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Sumner , Charles
The true grande-ir of nations.
Wi Imington ,Del . 1846

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EXTRACTS

FROM AN

ORATION

DELIVERED BEFORE THE AUTHORITIES

OF THE CITY OF BOSTON, 1
JULY 4, 1»4S.
BY CHARLES SUMNER.

'O ! yet a nobler task a'waits thy hand !
. For what can War hut endless "War stffl breed ?
Till Truth md Right from Violence be freed.
«.,jjrMiLTON, Sonnet to Fairfax.

FitOM THE THIRD SdITION.

WILMINGTON, DEL.:
aVANS AND VEBNONj FRINTERS, "COBNER OP THIRD AND MARKBT SlTtXStS,
V 184e.

EXTRACTS. .
. It is in obedience to an uninterrupted usage in our community that, on
Sfeis' Sabbath of the Nation, we have all put aside the common cares of hfe,
and seized,* respite from the never-ending toils of labor, to meet in gladness
and congratulation, mindful of thff blessings transmitted from the Past, mind
ful also, I trust, oi|the duties to the. Present and the Future. May he vrho
now addresses you be enabled so to direct your minds, that you shaE not
seem to have lost a day !
All hearts first turn to the Fathers of the Republic. Their venerable forms
rise before us, and we seem to behold them, iij the procession of successive
.generations. Honor to the memory of our Fathers ; May the turf lie gently on their
sacred graves ! But let us not in words only, but in deeds also, , testify ovu:
reverence for their name;.. Let us imitate what in them was lofty, pure and
good; let us from them leam to bear hardship and privation. Let us, who
now reap in strength what they sowed in weakness, study to enhance the
inheritance we have received. To do this, we.must not fold our hands in
slumber, nor abide content with the Past. To each generation is committed
its peculiar task ; nor does the heart, which responds to the call of duty, find
rest except in the world to come.
Be ours, then, the task which, in the- order of Providence, has been cast
upon us ! And what is this task 1 ^ow shall we best perform the part
assigned to us ¦? What can we do to meike our coming welcome to our
Fathers in the skies, and to draw to our memory hereafter the homage of a,
grateful posterity ? How can we add to the inheritance we have received ?
The answer to these questions cannot fail to interest all minds, particularly on
this Anniversary of the birth-day of our country. Nay,!.more; it becomes
,us, on this occasion, as patriots and citizens, to turn our thoughts inward, as
the -good man dedicates hig birthday, to the consideration of'Tiis character
and the mode in which its' vices may be corrected and its virtues strengthen
ed. Avoiding, then, all exultation in the prosperity that has enriched our
land, and in the extending influence of the blessings of freedom, let us
consider what we can do to elevate our character, to add to the happiness of
all, and to attain to that righteousness which exalteth a nation. In this spirit,
I propose to inquire what, in our age, are the true objects of rwiiorial ambition —
what is truly national glory — national honor — what is the true GRANDEtrR
OF NATIONS.
I hope to rescue these terms, so powerful over the minds of men, from the
. mistaken objects to. which they are applied, from deeds of war and the exten-

6
spread in every direction. It was only when the drunken men dropped from
excess, or fell asleep, that any degree of order was restored, and yet the
storming of Ciudad Rodrigo is pronounced " one of the most brilliailt exploits of
the British army." This exploit was followed by the storming of Badajoz, in
which the same scenes were enacted again w^th added atrocities. Let the
story be told in the words of a partial historian: "Shameless rapacity,' brutal
intemperance, savage lust, cruelty and murder, shrieks and piteous lamenta
tions, groans, shouts, imprecations, the hissing of fire bursting' from the
houses, the crashing of doors and windows, and the report of muskets used
in violence, resounded for two days and nights in the streets of Badajoz! On
the third, when the city was sacked, when the soldiers were e:Aausted by
their excesses, the tumult rather subsided Jhan wasqneUedf The wounded
were then looked to, the dead disposed of." '
The same terrible war affords aijother instance of the hpirors of a seige,
which cries to Heaven for judgment. For weeks before the surrender of
Saragpssa, the deaths were from four to five hundred daily; the hving were
unable to bury the dead, and thousands of carcasses, scattered about thestreets
and court-yards, or piled in neaps at the doors of churches, were left to dis
solve in their own corruption or to be licked up by the flames of the burning
houses. The city' was shaken to its foundation by sixteen thousand shells
thrown during the boihbardroent, and the explosion of forty-five thousand
pounds of powder in the mines, while ^he bones of forty thousand persons of
every age and both sexes bore dreadful testimony to the unutterable atrocity
of war. (.^ "*
These might be supposed to be pictures from the age of Alari^ Scourge of
God, or of Attila, whose boast was, that' the grass did not grow where his
horse had set his foot; but no; they belong to our own times. They are por
tions of the wonderful but wicked career of him, who stands out as the fore,
most representative of woddly grandeur. The heart aches, as we follow him
and his marshals from field to field of glory. At Albuera in_ Spain, we see
the horrid piles of carcasses, while all the night the rain pours down',and the riv
er and the hills and, the woods on each side,resound with the dismal clamors and
groans of dyingmen. At Salamanca, long after the battle, we behold the ground
still'blanched by the skeletons of those who fell, and strewn with the fragments
of casques and cuirasses. We follow in the dismal traces of his Russian cam
paign; at Valentina we see thdsoldiers black with powder, their bayonets bent
by the violence of the encodnfer; the earth ploughed with cannon shot, the
trees torn and mutilated, the field covered with brdten carriages, wounded
horses and mangled bodies, while disease, sad attendant on mihtary suflFering,
sweeps thousands from the great hospitals of, the army, and the multitude of
amputated limbs, which there is not time to destroy,' accumulate in bloody^
heaps, filling the air with corruption. What tongue, what pen, can describe
the horrors of the field of Borodino, where between the rise and set of a sin
gle sun, more than one huiidred thousand of our fellow-men, equalling in

humber the poptilatio'n of this whole city, sank' to' the earth dead or wounded'?
¦Efty daysjafter the battle, no less "'than twenty thousand are found:
lying where they have fallen, and the whole plain is strewn with
half-buried carcasses oL men and horses, intermingled with garments dyed in
blood, and bones knawed by dogs and vultures. Who can follow the French
army; in their dismal retreat, avoiding the pursuing spear of the Cossack, only
to sink Tinder the sharper frost and ice, in a temperature below zero, on foot,
¦vtithout a shelter for their bodies, and famishing on horse-flesh and a misera
ble compound of rye and snow-water? Still later we behold him with a fresh
array, contending against new forces under the walls of Dresden; and as the
Emperor rides 'over thejfield of battle, having supped with the King of Saxony
the ni^ht before, ^astly traces of the contest of the precedingday are to be seen
on all sides; out of the newly made graves hands and arms are projecting,
stark and stiff" above "the earth.. And shortly afterwards when shelter is need
ed fonthe froops, directions is given to occupy the Hospitals for the Insane,
with the order "turn out the mad."
During the siege of Genoa, but before the last ejctremities, a pound of
horse-flesh is sold for 32,,cents; a pound of bran for 30 cents; a pound of flour
for $1,75. A single bean is soon sold for four cents, 'rand a biscuit of three
dunces for $2,25, and none are finally- fo be had. The miserable soldiers,
alter devouring all the horses in the city, are redticed to the degradation of
feeding on dogs, cats, rats and worms, which are eagerly Jhunted out in the
cellars and common sewers. Happy were now, exclaims an Italian historian,
not those who lived, but those who died l^ The day is dreary from hunger;
the night more dreary still from hunger accompanied by dehrious fancies.--'
Recourse is now had to herbs; monk's rhubarb, sorrel, mallows, wild sue]
cory. People of every condition, women of noble birth and beauty, seek on
the slope of the mountain enclosed within the defences, those aUments which
nature destiifed solely for the beasts. A little cheese- and a few vegetables
are all that can be afforded to the sick and wounded, those sacred s^tipen-
diaiies ttpon htiman charity. Men and women, in the lasfanguish of despair,'
now fiU the air with their groans and shrieks ; some in spasms, convulsions
and contortions, gasping their last breath on the unpitying stones of the
•(Blreets ; alas ! not more unpitying than man.
But Vasted lands, ruined and famished cities, arid slaughtered armies are
only a part of " the purple testament of bleeding war." Every soldier is
connected, as all of you, by dear ties of kindred,^, love and friendship. He
has been sternly sunimoMed from the warm embraces of family. To him
there is, perhaps, an ag'ed moth^t, who has fondly hoped to lean her deoay--
¦Jng frame upon his, more youthffl'Iform; perhaps a wife, vphOse hfe has been
just entwined inseparably with his, now eohdemned to wasting despair;
, perhaps brothers, sisters. As he falls on the field of battle, must not all
these rush with his_ blood ? Biut wfeo can measure the distress thaj, radiates
as from a bloody suii, penetrating innumerable homes? Who can give the

gauge and dimensions of this.incalculable sorrow?' Tell me, ye who have
felt the bitterness of parting with dear friends and kindred, whom you have
watched tenderly till the last golden sands have run out, and the great hour
glass is turned, what is the measure of your anguish ? Your friend has de
parted, soothed by kindness and in the arms of love ; the soldier gasps out
his life, with no friend near, while the scowl of hate darkens all that he
beholds, darkens his own departing soul
From this dreary picture of the miseries of war, I turn to another branch of
the subject.
War is utterly ineffectual to secure or, advance the object at which it aims.
The misery which it excites, contributes to no end, helps toestablish no right,
and therefore, in no respect determines justice between the contending nations.
The fruitlessness and vanity of war appear in the results of the great wars
by which the world has been lacerated. After long struggles, in which each
nation has inflicted and received incalculable injury, peace has been gladly
obtained on the basis of the condition of things before the war. Status ante
Bellum. Let me refer for an example to our last war with Great Britain, the
professed object of which was to obtain from the latter Power a renunciation
other claim to impress our seamen. The greatest number of American seamen
ever offioially alleged to be compulsorily sei-ving in the British navy was about
eight hundred. To overturn this injustice, the whole country was doomed,
for more than three years, to the accursed blight of war. Our commerce was
driven from the seas; the resources of the, land were drained by taxation;
villages on the Canadian frontier; were laid in ashes; the metropolis of the
Republic was captured, while gaunt distress raged every where within our
borders. Weary with this rude trial, our Government appointed Commission
ers to treat for Peace, under these instructions : " Your first duty will be to
conclude peace with Great?Britain, and you are authorized to do it, in case you
obtain a satisfactory stipulation against impressment, one which shall secure
tinder our flag protection to the crew. If this encroachment'of Great Britain
is not provided against, the United States have appealed to arms in vain." After
wards, despairing! ot extorting from,, Great Britain a rehnquishment of the
unrighteous claim, and foreseeing only an accumulation of calamities from an
inveterate prosecution of the war, our Government directed their negotiators,
in concluding a treaty of Peace, " to omit any stipulation on the subject of t«i-
pressment?' The instructions* were obeyed, and the Treaty that once more
lestored to us the blessings of Peace, which we had rashly cast away, and
which the country hailed with an intoxication of joy,xontained no allusion to
the subject of impressment, nor did it provide for the surrender of a single
American sailor detained in the service of the British navy, and thus, by the
confession of our own Government, " the United States had appealed to arms
IN VAIN."
All this is the natural result of an appeal to war in order to establish justice.
Justice implies the exercise of the judgmentin the determination of right. Now

war not only s|p*ercedes the judgment, but delit-ers over the resuhs to supe
riority of /ora?, ^ to cAoncc. * • ,'
¦Who can mifesure beforehand the currents of the heady fight ? In common
language we speak of the chances of battle ; and soldiers, whose lives are de
voted tjj'this harsh calling, yet speak of it as a game. The Great Captain of
our ag^, who seemed to chain victory to his chariot wheels, in a formal address
to his officers, on entering Russia, says: — " In war, fortune has an equal share
with ability in procuring suecess." The mighty victory of Marengo, the acci
dent of an accident, wrested unexpectedly at the close of the day from a foe, who
at an earlier hour was successful, must have taught him the uncertainty of war.
Afterwards in'th^ibitterni^s of his spi^^wheiT his immense forces had been shiv
ered, and his triumphant eagles drivenbaokwithbrokenwing,he exclaimed, in
that remarkable conversation recorded by the Abbe de Pradt: — "Well ! this
is war. High in the morning,— low enough at night. From a triumph to a
fall is often buf a step." The military historian of the Peninsular campaigns,
says : "•t'oftune always asserts her supremacy in war, and often from a slight
mistake, such disastrous consequences flow, that in every age and in every nation
the uncertainty of wars has been proverbial ;" and sigain, in another place,
in considering the conduct of 'Wellington, he says : — " A few hours' delay,
an accident, a turn of fortune, and he would have been foiled ! ay ! but this
is^vvar, always dangerous and uncertain, an ever-rolhng wheel and. armed
wifh scythes." And can intelligent man look for justice , to an ever-rolling
wheel armed with scythes ? ' %,® »^ ir
We are Struck with horror and our hair "stands on end, at the report of a
single murder j> we think of the soul that has been hurried to its final account ;
we seek the murderer; and the 'law puts forth all its energies to secure hi»
punishment. Viewed in the clear light of truth, what are war and battle but
organized murder; murder of malice afore-thought"; in cold blood; through
the operation of an extensive machinery of crime ; with innumerable hands;
at incalculable cost of money; through subtle contri-raniies of cunning and
skill ; or by the savage brutal assault ? Was no*t the Scythian right, when
he said to Alexander, " thou boastest, that the only design of thy marches is
to extirpate robbers; thou thyself art the greatest robber in the world."-^
.^long us one class of Siea?robbers is hanged as pirates ; another is hailed
with acclamation :
Ille orucem sceiferis pretium tulit, hie ^iadema.
It was midst the thunders which made Sinai tremble, that God declared;
" thou shalt not kill ;" and the voice of these, thunders, with this command
ment, has been prolonged to our own day in the echoes of Christian churches.
What mortal shall restrain the a^phcation of these words ? Who on earth is
empowered to vary or abridge the commandments of God? 'JVho shall presume
to declare, that this injunction was directed, not to nations,, bat to individuals
only; not to many but to one only ; that one man may not kUl, but ths^t many
may; that it is forbidden to each individual to destroy the life of a single
B

10
human being, but that it is ngt forbidden to a nation to cut olLby the sword a
whole people ? i:- ' < .. f^
When shall the St. Louis of nhe nations arise ? the Christian^ler or Chris
tian people, who shall proclaim to the whole earth, that henceforward for ever
the great trial by battle shall cease ; that it is the duty and policy of nations to
establish love between each other ; and in all respect,s, at all times, towards
all persons, as well their own people, as the people of other lands, to be gov
erned by the sacred rules of right, as between man and man ! May God speed
the coming ot that day 1
I have already alluded, in the early part of my remarks, to soma of the
obstacles to be encountered by the advocate of Peace. Qae of these is the
warlike tone of the literature, by which our minds and opinions are farmed. —
The world has supped so full with battles, that all its inner modes of thought,
and many of its rules of conduct seem to be in6arnadined with blood ; as the
bones of swine, fed on madder, are ssid to become red. But I now pass this
by, though a most fruitful theme, and hasten to other topics. I propose to
consider in succession, very briefly, some of those influences and prejudice s,
which are most powerful in keeping alive the d,elusipn of war.
One of the most important of these is the prejudice \o a certain extent in its
favor founded on the belief in.its necessity. The consciences of all good men
condemn it as a crime, a, sin ; even^the soldier, whose profession it is confesses
it is to be regprted tg only in the last necessity. But abenevolent and omnipotent
God cannot render it necessary to commit a crime . When war is called a necessity
it is meant, of course, that its object cannotibe gainedin any other way. Now
I think that it has already appeared! with distmctness, approaching demonstra
tion, that the professed object of war, which^s justice between nations, is in
no respect promoted by war; that force is not justice, nor in any way condu
cive to justice ; that the eaglgs of victory can be only the emblems of success
ful force and not of established right. Justice can be obtained only by the
exercise of the reason ahd judgment ; but these are silent in the' din ot arms.
Justioe-is without., passion; but war lets loose all the worst passions of _ our
nature, while " high arbiter Chance more embroils the fray." The age has
gassed in which a nation, within the enchanted circle of civilization, will make
war upon its neighbor, for any professed purpose of booty or vengeance. It
does "nought in hate, but all in honor." There are professions even of ten
derness which mingle with tl\e first mutteriags of the dismal strife. Each of
the two governments, as if conscience-struck at the abyss into which it is
about to plunge, seeks to fix on the other the charge of hostile aggression, and
to assume to itself the ground of defending some right. Like Pontius Pilate, it
vainly washes its hands of innocent blood, and straightway allows, a crime at
which the whole heavens are darkened, and two kindred countries are severe^'
as the veil of the, Temple was rent in twain.
The various modes, which have been proposed for the determination of dis
putes between nations, ai;e Negotiation, Arbitration, Mediation, and a Congress

11
of Nations ;all-of them practicable .and calculated to secure peaceful justice.
l^iyt not be^said, then, that war is a necessity ''and may our country aim at
the true glory of taking the lead in the 'recognition of these, as the only prop-
,«r modes of determining justic^ between nations ! Such a glory, unlike the
eartjllyjfame of battles, shall be immortal as the stars, dropping perpetual
Bght upon the souls of men !
Another prejudice in favor of war is^founded on the practice of nations, past
and present. There is no crime or enormity in morals, which may not find
the support of human example, often on a most extended scale. But it is not
to be urged in ourtday that we are to look,, for a standard of duty in the
conduct of vain, mistaken, fallible man. It is not in the power of man, by
any subtle alchemy, to transmute wrong into right. Because war is accord
ing to the practice of the world,.,it does not follow that it is right. For ages
the world wx)rshipped false gods; but these gods were not the less false, be
cause all bowed before them. At this moment the larger portion of mankind
are Heathen ; but Heathenism is not true. It was once the practice of na
tions to slaughter prisoners of war; but even the 'spirit of war recoils now
from this bloody sacrifice. In Sparta, theft, instead of being execrated as a
crime, was dignified into an art and an accomplishment, and as such admitted
into the system of youthful education ; and, even this debasing practice,
est^ished by local feeling, is enlightened, like war, by an instance of un
conquerable firmness, which is a barbaric counterfeit of virtue. The Spartan
youth, vyho allowed the fox concealed under his robe to eat into his heart, is
an example of .mistaken fortitude, not unlike that which we are asked to
admire in the soldier. Other iUijstrations of this character crowd upon the
mind ; but I wiU not dwell upoh them. We turn with disgust from Spartan
cruelty and the wolves of Taygetus ; from the, nwful cannibalism of the
Feejee Islands; from the profane rites of innuifterable savages; from the
crushing Juggernaut; from the, Hindoo widow lighting'^her funeral pyre.; fi'om
the Indian Ijancing at the stake. But had not all these, in their-respec-
ivve places and days, like war, the sanction of estabhshed.tfsage ?
Plato, reporting the angelic wisdom of Socrates, declaifes in ..one of those
teautiful dialogues, which shine with stellar light across the ages, that it is
more shameful to do a wrong than to receive a wrong. And this benign senti
ment commends itself, alike to the Christian, who is told to render good for
evil, and to the universal heart of man. But who that confesses its truth,
can vindicate a resort to'jfiprce,. for jtjie sake of honor ? . Better far to rece've
the blow that a false morality has thought degrading, than that it shou-'W be
revenged by force. Better that a najion should submit to what is wrong,
rather than vainly seek to maintain its honor by the great crime '^ ""^ar.
It seems that in ancient Athens, as in unchristianized Christian lands, there
were sophists, who urged that to suffer was unbecoming a ii>*n, and would
d,raw,down upon h^i incalculable eyil^ The following passage will show
the maimer in which the moral cowardice of these persi»'ns of little faith was

12
rebuked by him, whom the Gods pronounced wisest of merffia'- These things
being so, let us inquire what it is yon reproach me with ; wfiether it is well
said, or not, that I, forsooth, am not able to assist either myself,'Drany of iriy
friends or my relations, or to save them from the greatest dangers ; but that,
like the outlaws, I am at the mercy of any one, who may choose to smite me
on the temple — and this was the strong point in your argument — or to take
away my property, or to drive me out of the city, or (to take the extreme
case) to kill me ; now, according to yoiir argument, to be so situated is the
most shameful thing of all. But my view is^a view many times expressed
already, but there is no objection to its beuig stated again- — my view, I say,
is, 0 Collides, that to be struck unjustly on the temple is not rriost shameful, nor
to have my body mutilated, nor my purse exit} but to strike me and mine unjustly,
and to mutilate me and to cut my purse is more shamefufand worse') and steal
ing too, and enslaving, and housebreaHang, and' in general, doing any wrong
vihatever to me and mine is more shameful arid worse for him who does the
wrong, than for me who suffer it. These things, thus established in the
former arguments, as I maintain, are secured and bound, even if the expres
sion be somewhat too rustical, with iron and adamantine arguments,' and
unless you, or some one more vigorous than you, can break them, it is impos
sible for any one, speaking otherwise than I now speak, to speak well : since,
for my part, I always have the same thing to say, that I know not how these
things are, but that of all whom I ever discoursed with as now, not one is able to
say otherwise wimout being ridiculous." Such is the wisdom of Socrates.
There is still another influence vyhich stimulates war, and interferes with
the natural attractions of Peace; I refer to a selfish and exa^^ted love of
country, leading to its physical aggrandizement, and the strengthening of its
institutions at the expense of other countries. Our minds, nursed by the
literature of antiquity, have imbibed the narrow sentiment of heathen patriot
ism. Exclusiya^oye for the land of birth was a part of the religion of Greece
and Rome. It\s an indication of the lowness of their moral nature, that this
sentiment was so exclusive, and so material in its character. The Oracle
directed the returning Roman to kiss his mother, and he kissed the Mother
.^arth. Agamemnon, on regaining his home after a perilous separation of
more (^an ten years at the siege of Txoy, before pidressing his family, his
friends, his countrymen, first salutes Argos :
\ < By your leave, Lords, first Argos I salute.
To the love of universal man may be appUed those words by which the
grea^>^man elevated his selfish patriotism to a vfrtue, when he said that
country%l,one embraced all the charities of all. Attach this admired phrase
for a moiitisait to the single idea' of country, and you vsdll see how contracted
are its chari)!<3s compared with the world-wide circle of Christian love, whose
neighbor is theNsuffBijing man,'thoughjat the farthest pole.
1 do'^hot inculca\an indiff"erence to countrf. We incline, by a natural

13
sentiment, to the spot where'we were born, to the fields which witnessed tha
sports of cj^ildhj^od, to the seat of youthful studies, and to the institutions
under which we have been trained. The finger of God writes in indelible
¦colors all these things upon the heart of man, so that in the dread extremities
r of death, he reverts in fondness to early associations, and longs for a draught
of cold water from the bucket in his father's well ., This sentiment is inde
pendent of reflection, for it begins before reflection, grows with our growth,
and strengthens with our strength. It is blind in its nature ; and it is the duty
of each of us to take care that it does not absorb the whole character. In
the moral night which has envelope/^ the world, each nation, thus far, has
lived ignorant and careless, to much ejjtent, of the interests of others, which
it imperfectly saw,; butjthis thick darkness has now been scattered, and we
begin to discern,. all gilded by the beams of morning, the distant mountain-
peaks of other lands. We find that God has not placed us on this earth
alone ; that there are other nations, equally with us, children of his protecting
care. It is not that I love country less, but Humanity more, that now on this
national Anniversary, I plead the cause of a higher and truer patriotism. —
Remember that you are men, by a more sacred bond than you are citizens;
that you are children of a common Father more than you are Americans.
- •Viemng, then, the different people on the globe, as all deriving their blood
from a common source, and separated only by the accident of mountains,
rivers ajud seas, into those distinctions arougd which cluster the associations of
country, we must regard all the children of the earth as members of the
great human family. Discord in this family is treason to God ; while all war
is nothing else than civil war. It will be in vain that we restrain this odious
term, importing so much of horror, to the petty dissensions of a single State.
It belongs as justly to the feuds between nations^ ' The soul stands aghast, as
we contemplate fields drenched in fraternal gore, .where the happiness of
homes has beeh shivered by the unfriendly arms* of neighbors, and where
kinsmen have sunk beneath the cold steel that was nerved' by a kinsman's
hand. This is civil war, which stands for ever accursed in the calendar of
time. But the Muse of History,' in the faithful record of the future transac
tions of nations, inspired'by a new and loftfer justice, and touched to finer sen
sibilities, shall extend to the general sorrows of Universal Man the sympathy
•which has been profusely shed for the selfish sorrow of country, and shall
, ,pronounce all war to be civil war, and the partakers in it as traitors to God and
enemies to man. "••
I might here pause, feeling that those of my hearers who have kindly
- accompanied me to this stage, would be ready to join in the condemnation of
"war, and hail peace, as the only condition becoming the dignity of human
¦ nature, and in which true greatness can be achieved. But there is still one
more consideration, which yields to none of ,, the others in importance ; per-
?-haps it is more important than all. It is at once cause gjid effect j<rthe cause

14
of much of the feeling in favor of war, and the effect of this leering. I refer
to the costly preparations for war, in time of' peace. ^ . ,^ ^
I do not propose to dwell upon the immense cost of war itself. That will^
be present to the minds of all in the raonhtainous accumulations of debt, -
piled like Ossa upon Pelion, with which Europe is pressed to the easth. — ,
According to the most recent tables to which I have had access, the pubhc-
debt of the different European States, so far as it is known, amounts to the
terrific sura of $6,387.000,'b00, all of this'the growth of War ! It is said that
there are throughout these, states, 17,900,000 paupers, or persons subsisting at
the expense of the country, without contributing to its regpurces. If these
millions of the public debt, forming only a part of what has been wasted in
war, could be apportioned among these poor, -it would' give to eactt of them.
$375, a sum which would place all above wan^ and which is about equal to
the average value of the property of each inhabitant of Massachusetts.
The public debt of Great Britain amounted in 1839 to $4,265,000,000, all of
this the growth of War since. 1688 ! This amount is about equal to the sum
total, according to the calculations of Humboldt, of all the treasures which have
been reaped from the harvest of gold and silver in the mines of Spanish Amer
ica, including Mexico and Peru, since the first discovery of our hemisphere by
Christopher Columbus ! It is much larger than the amount of all the preciQus
metals, which at this moment form the circtilating medium of the world \ It
is said rashly by, some persons, who have given little attention to this subject,
that all this expenditure was good for the people; but these persons do not
bear in mind that it was not bestowed on any usefid object. It- was wasted.
The aggregate capital of all the joint stock companies in Englana, of which
there was any known record in 1842, embracing 'tsanals, docks, bridges, insur
ance companies, banks, gas-lights, water, mines, railways, and other miscel
laneous objects, was about $^,000,000; a sum which has been devoted to
the welfare of the people, but how infinitely less in amou»|»- than the War
Debt! For the six years ending in 1836, the average payment for the inter
est on this debt was about $140,000,000 annually. If we add to this sum,
$60,000,000 during tjii^ same period paid annually to the army, navy and
ordnance, we shall have $200,000,000 as the annual tax of the English jieo-
ple, to pay for former wars and to prepare for new. During this same period
there was an annual appropriation of only $20,000,000 for all the civil pur-.
poses of the government. It thus appears that War absorbed nuiety cents '
of every dollar that was pressed by heavy taxation from the Enghsh people,"
who almost seem to sweat blood ! What fabulous monster, or chimera dire,
ever raged with a maw so ravenous ! The remaining ten cents sufliced, to,
maintain the splendor.of the throne, the administrartion^ of, justice, and the**^.
diplomatic relations with foreign powers, in short all the proper objects of a*
Christian State.
Let us now look exclusively at the preparations for war in time of peace. It
is one of 4he mlseries^of war that, even in peace, its evils continue to be felt

15 i
by the woi'l^beyoud any ottior' evils by which poor sutTering humanity is
oppressed. ^If Bellona withdrsfws from 'the field, we only lose the sight of
her flaming torches ; the bay of her dogs is heard on the mountains, and
civilized marT thinks to find protection from their sudden fury, only by enclo
sing himself in the defences of war. At this moment the Christian nations,
'worshipping a symbol of common brotherhood, live as in entrenched oampe,
in which they keep armed, watch, to prevent surprise from each other.
It is difficult, if not impossible, to arrive at any exact estimate of the cost of
these preparations, ranging under four different heads; the standing army;
the navy ; the fortifications, and Ordnance ; and the militia or irregular
troops. ^ '¦'
The number pf soldiers now keeping the peace o£ European Christendom,
as a sfandmg army, without counting the Navy, is upwards of two millions. —
Some estimates place it as high as three millions. The array of Great
Britain exceeds 300,000 men ; that of France 350,000 ; that of Russia 730,-
000, and is reckoned by some as high as 1,000,000 : that of Austria about
275,000 ; that of Prussia 150,000. Taking the smaller number, suppose these
two millions to require for their annual support an average sum of only $150
each, the result would be $300,000,000, for their sustenance alone ; and
reckoning one officer to ten soldiers, and allowing to eaah of , the latter an
English shilling a day, or $87 a year, for wages, and to the former an average
salary of $500 a year, we should haye for the pay of the '^ajg no less than
$256,000,000, or an appalling sum total for both sustenance and pay of $556,-
000,000. If the same calculation be made, supposing the forces to amount to
three millions, the sum total' will be $835,000,000 ! But to this enormous
sum another still more enOrmoustmust be added on account, of the , loss sus
tained by the withdrawal of two millions of hardy, healthy men, in the
bloom of life, from useful, productive labor. 13|has been supposed that it
costs an average of $500 to rear a soldier ; and that die value of liis labor if
devoted to useful objects would be $150 a year. The"' Christian Powers,
therefore, in setting apart two millions of men, as soldiers," sustain a loss of
$1,000,000,000 on account of their training ; and $300,000,000 annually, on
account of their labor. So much for the cost pf the standing army pf Eu
ropean Christendom in time of Peace, exclusive of their Navies.
In the fortifications and arsenals of Europe, crowning, every height,' com-
pianding every valley, and frowning over every plain and every sea, wealth
has been sunk which is beyond palculation. Who^ can tell the immense sums
that have been expended in hollowing out, for the purposes of defence, th^
hving rook of Gibraltar? Who can calculate the cost, of all the preparation's
at Woolwich, its 27,000 cannons,^ and its hundreds pf thousands of small
arms? France alone contains upwards of one hundred and twenty fortified
places. And it, is supposed that the yet unfinished fortifications of Rari^ have,
cost upwards of fifty millions of dollars •'
The,cost|Of the mSjfw or irregular troops, the Yeomanry of Engjand, the,.

i(i
National Guards of Pari,?, and the Landwehr an,d Landsturm of Pinssia, must
add other incalculable .suras to these enormous amounts. ?t
Turn now to the United States, separated by a broad ocean from immediate
contact with the great powers of Christendom, bound by treaties of amity
and commerce with all the nations of the earth ; connected with all by the
strong ties of mutual interest ; and professing a devotion to the principles of
Peace. Are the Treaties of Amity mere words? Are the relations of com
merce and mutual interest mere things of a day? Are the professions of
Peace vain ? Else why not repose in quiet unvexed by preparations for
war? Enormous as are the expenses of this character in Europe, those in our
country are still greater in proportion to the other expenditures of the Fed
eral Government. *
It appears that the average expenditures of the Federal Government for
the six years ending with 1840, exclusive of payments on account of debt,
were $26,474,892; of this sum, the average appropriation each year for miU
tary and naval purposes amounted to $21,328,903, being eighty per cent, of
the whole amount? Yes; of all the income which was received by the
Federal Government, eighty cents in every dollar was apphed in this useless
way. The remaining twenty cents sufficed to maintain the Government, the
administration of justice, our relations, with foreign nations, the light-houses
which shed their cheerful signals over the rough waves which beat upon our
long and indented coast, from the Bay of Fundy to the mouth of the Missis
sippi. Let us observe the relative expenditures .of the United States, in the
scale of the nations, for military preparations^ in time of Peaae, exclusive of
payments on account of the debts. These expenditures are in proportion to
the whole expenditure of Government j
In Austria, as 33 per cent'., <*
In France, as 38 per cent..
In Prussia, as 44 per cent..
In Great Brhain, as 74 per cent..
In the United States, as 80 per cent !
To these superfiuous expenditures of the Federal Government, are to be
added the still larger and equally superfluous expenses of the militia through
out the country, which have been placed at $50,000,000 a year.
By a table of the expenditures of the United States, exclusive of payments
on account of the Public Debt, it appears, that, in the fifty-three years from
the formation of our present Government, in 1789 down to 1843, there have
been $246,620,055 spent for civil purposes, comprehending the expenses of
the executive, the legislative, the judiciary, the post-office^ hght-hojises, and
intercourse with foreign governments. During this same period there ha-v;e
been $368,526,594 devoted to the military establishment, and $170,437,684 to
the naval estabhshment ; the two, forming an aggregate of $538,964,278.—
Deducting from this sum the ^expropriations during the three years of war,

It
and we shall find that more than. /our hiixidred miti^ons were absorbed by vaia
preparations in time ot peace for war. Add to this amount a moderate sum
for the expenses of the mihtia during the same period, which a candid and
able writer places at present. at $50;000,000 a year; for the past years we
may take an average of $23,000,000, and we shall have the enormous sum of
$1,335,000,000 to be added to the $400,000,000; the whole amounting to
seventeen hundred and thirty-jiuc millions of dollars,) a, sum beyond the concep
tion of human faculties, sunk under the sanction of the Government of the
United States in mere peaceful preparations for war ;, more than seven times.aii
much as was dedicated by the Government, during the same period, to all,
other purposes whatsoever.
Look for pne moment at a high and peculiar interest of the nation, the ad
ministration of justicei Perhaps no part of our system is regarded with more
pride and confidence by the enlightened sense of the country. To this,
indeed, all the other concerns of Government, all its complications of machine
ry, are in a manner subordinate, since it is for the sake of justice that men
come together in states and^ estabhsh lawsl ' What part of the Government
can compare in importance with the Federal Judiciary, that great balance.
wheel of the Constitution, controlling the relations of the States to each other,
the legislation of Cohgress and of the States, besides private, interests to an
incalculable amount ? Nor can the citizen, who discerns the true glory of his
country, fail to recognize in the judicial labors Of ; Marshall,, now departed,
and in the iimmortal judgments of Story; who is still spared to us,— ser«s in
caelum redeat — a higher claim to admiration and gratitude than can be found
in any triumpH*of battle; "* Thel expenses of 'the administration, of Justice,
throughout the United States, under the "Federal Government, in 1842, era-
bracing the salaries of the judges, the cost of-jSiries, court-houses and all
officers thereof, in short all the outlay by whiclf!. Justice, according to the re
quirements of Magna Charta, is carried to every '•¦man's ; door, amounted to
$560,990, a larger sum than is usually appropriated for this .purpose, but how
insignificant compared with the demands of the array and navy !
Let me allude to one more curiosity of waste. It appears, by acalculation
founded on the expenlfes of, the Navy, that the average, cost of each gun,
carried over the ocean, for one year, amounts to about fifteen thousand dol
lars ; a sum .sufficient tp sustain ten professors of Colleges, and equal to the
salaries of all the judges of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts and tha
Governor combined ? f^
Such are a few brief illustrations of the tax'which the nations of the world,
and partieularly our own country, impose, on the,' people, in time of profound
^eace-, for no purpose of gopd, but only in-obedienceto.the spirit of war.. As
'we wearily climb, in this survey, from expenditure to expenditure, from veaste
to waste, we seem to pass beyond the Tegiori of ordinary calculation ; Alps
on Alps arise, on whqse crowning height*of everlasting; ice, far above th»
G U.

18
habitations of man, where no green thing lives, where no creature draws its
breath, we behold the cold, sharp, flashing glacier of War.
In the contemplation of this spectacle the soul swells with alternate despa,ir
and hope ; with despair, at the thought of such wealth, capable of rendering
such service to humanity, not merely wasted but given to perpetuate hate J
with hope, as the blessed 'vision arises of the devotion of all these incalculable
means to the purposes of peace. The whole world labors at this moment with
poverty and distress ; and the painful question "occurs to every observer, in
Europe as weU as at home, — what shall become of the poor, — the increasing
standing army of the poor. Could the humble voice that now addresses you
penetrate those distant councils, or coiuicils nearer home, it would say, dis
band your standing armies of soldiers ; abandon your fortifications and arsenals,
or dedicate them to works of beneficence, as the statue of Jupiter Capitolinus
was changed to the image of a Christian saint ; apply your navy to purposes of
commerce ; in fine, utterly forsake the present incongruous system of armed
peace !
What is the use of the fortifications of the United States ? We have already
seen the enormous sums which have been locked in the dead hands, in the-
odious mortmain, of their everlasting masonry. This is in the hope of sav
ing the country thereby from the horrors of conquest and bloodshed. And
here let me meet this suggestion with frankness and distinctness- I wfll not
repeat what has been set forth in an earlier part of my remarks, the consid
erations shovring that in our age, no war of strict self-defence can possibly
arise, no war which can be supported by the consciences of those even who
disclaim the highest standard of the gospel ; but I 'wiE suppose the case of a
war, unjust and unchristian it must be, between our country and one of the
great powers of Europe. In such a war, what would be the eflfect of the
fortifications ? Clearly to invite the attack, which they would in aJl probabil
ity be inadequate to defeatf It is a rule now recognized even in the barbar
ous code of war, one branch of which has been fllustratedf with admirable
abihty in the diplomatic correspondence of Mr.Webster, that non-combatants
shall not, in any way ,^ be molested, and that the propertp- of private persons
shall in all cases be held sacred. So firmly did the Duke of WeUington act
upon this rule, that throughout the murderous campaigns of Spain, and
afterwards when he entered France, flushed with the victory of Waterloo, he
dhected that liis army should pay for all provisions, and even for the forage
of their horses. The war is carried on' against pubhc property, — against
fortifications,na'vy-^ards and ar^nals. But if 'these do not exist, there can be no
ahment, no fuel for the flame. Every new fortification and every additional
gun in our harbor is, therefore, 'not a safeguard, but a source of danger to out
city. Better throw them in the sea, than madly allow them to draw to our
homes the lightning of battle, without, alas, any conductor to hurry its terrors
iimocently beneath the concealing bosom of the earth !

19
Such is a reari^w of the true character and value of the national defences
of the UniteS States ! It wifi be observed that I have thus far regarded them
in the, -plainest light of ordinary worldly economy, without reference to those
higher considerations, founded on the history and nature of man, and the
truths of Christianity, which pronounce them to be vain. It is grateful to
know, that, though they may yet have the support of what Jeremy Taylor
calls the " popular noises, "_ still the more economical, more humane, more
wise, moie Christian system is daily commending itself to wide circles of the,
good people of the land. AU the virtues that truly elevate a state are on its
side. Economy, sick of the pigmy eiforts to staunch the smallest fountains
and riUs of exuberant expenditure, pleads that here is an endless, boundless
river, an Amazon of waste, rolling its turbid, unhealthy waters vainly to the
sea. It chides us with an unnatural inconsistency when we strain at a little
twine and red tape, and swallow the monstrous cables and armaments of war.
Humanity pleads for the poor from whom such mighty means are withdrawn.
Wisdom frown,: on these preparations as calculated to nurse sentiments incon
sistent with Peace, Christianity calmly rebukes the spirit in which they have
their origin, as being of little faith, and treacherous to her high behests ;
whUe History shows the sure progress of man, hke the lion in Paradise still
" pawing to get free his hinder partsJ^ but certain, if he be true to his nature,
to emancipate him'self from the restraints of earth.
The sentiment, that in time of peace we must prepare for war, has been
transmitted' frofe distant ages when brute force prevailed. It is the terrible
inheritance, the damnosa haereditas, which painfully reminds the people of our
day of their relations with the Pasf. It belongs to the rejected dogmas of
barbarism. It is the companion of thosefharsh rules of tyranny by which
the happiness of the many has been ofi'ered up to the propensities of the
few. It is the child of suspicion and the forerunner of violence. Having in
its faVor the almost uninterrupted usage of the worldj, it possesses a hold on
the common mind, 'which is not easily unloosed. And yet the conscientious
Boul cannot fail, on' careful observation, to detect its most mischievous fallacy
— a fallacy the most costly the world has witnessed, aud which dooms nations
to annual tributes in comparison with which all that have been extorted by
cou'quests are as the widow's mite by the side of Pharisaical contributions. —
So 'true is what Rousseau said, and Guizot has since repeated, "that a bad
principle is far worse than a bad fact ;" for the operations of the one are
finite, while those of the other are infinite.
I speak of this principle with earnestness, for I believe it to be erroneous
and false, founded in ignorance and barbarism, unworthy of an age of light)
and disgraceful to Christians. I have called it a principle; but it is a mere
jjrejudice- sustained 'by human example only, and not by lofty truth— in"
obeying which we imitate the early mariners, who steered from headland to
headland and hugged the eholte, nn^vilKng to V^htare upon the broad ocean,
where <tbw guide shottld W tire himiiiaiJes "if! HeavSrt.

20
Dismissing from our minds, the actual usage of nations on the one side,
and the considerations of economy^on the other, and regai'aing |jfeparations
for war in time of peace in the clear light of reason, in a justVppreciation of
the nature of man, and in the injunctions of the highest truth, and they can
not fail to be branded as most pernicious. They are pernicious on two
grounds; first, because they inflame the people who make them, exciting
them to deeds of violence which otherwise would be most alien to their
minds; and second, because haying their origin in the low motive of distrust
and hate, they inevitably, by a sure law of the human m&d, excite a corres
ponding feeling in other nations. Thus they are in fact not the preservers of
peace, but the provokers of war.
In illustration of the first of these grounds, it will occur to every inquirer,
that the possession of power is always in itself dangerous, that it tempts tha
purest and highest natures to self-indulgence, that it can rarely be enjoyed
without abuse ; nor is the power to employ force in war, or otherwise, an excep
tion to this law. History teaches that the nations possessing the greatest mih
tary forces, have always been the most belHgerent ; while the feebler powers
have enjoyed^ for a longer period, the blessings of Peace. The din ot war
resounds throughout more than seven hundred, years of Roman history, with
only two short lulls of repose ; while smaller states, less potent in arms, and
without the excitement to quarrels on this account, have enjoyed long eras of
Peace. , .;
I cannot leave these illustrations without alluding particularly to. the history of
the treatment of the insane, which is fullof deep instruction, showing how strong
in nature must be the principle, which leads us to respond to the conduct and
feelings of others. When Pinel first proposed, to remove the heavy chains
from the raving maniacs of the hospitals of Paris, he was regarded as one
whp saw visions, or dreanied dreams. His wishes were gratified at last; and
the change in the conduct of his patients was immediate; the wrinkled fronj
of evil passions' was smoothed into the serene countenance of Peace. The
old treatment by force is now universally abandoned; the law of lo.ve has taien
its place; and all these unfortunates mingle together, unvexed by those re
straints, which implied suspicion, and, therefore, atouse'd opposition. The
warring propensities, which once filled with confusion and strife the. hospitals
for the insane while they were controlled by force, are a dark but feeble type
of the present relations of natio'ris, oh whose hands are the heavy chains of
mihtary preparations, assimilating the worid to one great mad house; whjle
the peace and good-will which now'abou'tid in these retreats, are the happy
emblems of what awaits the world when it shall have the ^yisdom to recog
nize the supremacy of the higher sentiments of our nature;' of- gentleness, of
confidence, of love; • '> ¦ ' * ;

. ; , > ' — TT— making thMr future might
. Magijetio o'er, the fixed unlrembling heart. . -'i , . ¦.' '
I might also dvyell on the recent experience, so full of delightful wisdom, in

21
the treatr^ent of the dislarit, degraded convicts of New South Wales, showing
the importance of confidence and kindness on the part of their overseers, in
awakening a corresponding sentiment even in these outcasts, from whose
isoulsviitae seems, at first view, to be wholly blotted out. Thus frora all
quarters, from the far off past, frora the far away Pacific, from the verse of
the poet, frora the legend of historj', from the cell of the mad-house, from the
assembly of transported criminals, from the experience of daily life, from the
universal heart of man, ascends the spontaneous tribute to the prevailing pow
er of that law, according to which the human heart responds to the feelings
by which it is addressed, whether of confidence or distrust, of love or hate.
It will be urged that these instances are exceptions to the general la-n-s by
which mankind are governed. It is not so. They are the unanswerable evi
dence of the real nature of man. They reveal the divinity ot humanity, out
'of which all goodness, all happiness, all true greatness can alone proceed. —
They disclose susceptibilities which are general, which are confined to no par
ticular race of men, to no period of time, to no narrow circle of knowledge and
refinement — susceptibilities which are present wherever two or more human
beings come together. It is, then, on the impregnable ground of the universal
and unalterable nature of man, that I place the fallacy of that prejudice, in
obedience to ¦vvhichin time of peace we prepare for war. .;;.
But this prejudice is nolf only, founded on, a misconception of the nature of
man; it is abhorent to Christianity, which teaches that Love is more puissant
than Force. To the reflecting mind the Omnipotence of God himself is less
discernible in the earthquake and the storm than in the gentle but quickening
rays of the sun, and the sweet descending dews. And he is a careless obser
ver who do'es not recognize the superiority of gentleness and kindness, as a
mode of excercising influence, or securing rights among men. As the winds
of violence beat about them, they hug those mantles, which they gladly throw
to the earth under the genial warmth of a kindly sun. Thus far, nations have
drawn their weapons frora the earthly armories of Force, unmindful of those
others of celestial temper from the house of Love.
But Christianity not only teaches the superiority of Love over Force; it pos
itively enjoins the practice of the one, and the rejection of the other. It
says: "Love your neighbors;" but it does not say: "In time of Peace rear the
massive fortification,, build the man of war, ehhst, armies, train the militia,
and accumulate military stores to be employed in future quarrels with your
neighbors." Its precepts go still further,. They direct that vye^hould do untq
others as we would heive them do, unto tis — a golden rule for the conduct of
nations as well as individuals, called by Confucius the virtue, of the heart, and
made by him the. basis of the nine maxitns of Government which he present..
ed to the sovereigns of his country;, but, how inconsistent with that distryst of
others, ih wrongful obedience to which nations, in time °f Peace, seem tO
deep like soldiers oh their arms. But its precepts go still further. They en
join patience, suffering, forgiveness of evil, even the duty of benefitting a

22
destroyer, "as the sandal wood, in the instant of its overthrow, sheds perfume
on the axe which fells it." And can a people, in whom 'this; faith is more
than an idle word, ,consent to such enormous sacrifices of money, in violation
of its plainest precepts? • *'
The injunction, "Love one Another," is applicable to nations as well as indi
viduals. It is one of the great laws of Heaven. And any one may well
measure his nearness to God by the degree to which he regulates his conduct
to this truth.
In response to these successive views, founded on considerations of econo
my, of the true nature of man, and of Christianity, I hear the skeptical note
of some- defender of the transmitted order of things, some one who wishes
<'to fight for Peace," saying, these views are beautiful but visionary;,. they are
in advance of the age; the world is not yet prepared for their rece|)tion. To
such persons (if there be such), I would' say; — nothing can be beautilul that
is not true; but thpse views are true; the time is now come for their reception;
now is the day and now is the hour. Every effort to impede their progress
arrests the advancing hand on the great dial plate of human happiness.
To William Penn belongs the distinctions, destined to brighten as men
advance in virtue, of first, in human history, establishing the Law of Love as
a rule of conduct for the intercourse of nations. While he recognized as a
great end of government, "to support .power in reverence with the people,
and to secure the people from abuse of power," he declined the superfluous
protection of arms against foreign force, and " aimed to reduce the savage
nations by just and gentle manners to the love of civil society and the
Christian rehgion." His serene countenance, as he stands with his followers
in what he called the sweet and clear air of Pennsylvania, all unarmed,
beneath the spreading elm, forming the great treaty of friendship ¦with the
untutored Indians, — who fill with savage display the surrounding forest as far
as the eye can reach, — not to wrest their lands by violence, but to obtain
them by peaceful purchase, is to my mind, the proudest picture in the history
of our country. " The great God," said this illustrious Quaker, in his words
¦of sincerity and truth, addressed to the Sachems, "has ¦written his law in our
hearts, hy which we are taught and commanded to love, and to help, and ta
do good to one another. It is not our custom to use hostile weapons ^^gainst
our fellow creatnres, for which reason we have cQine unarmed. Our object
is not to do injury, "but to do good. We have .met, then, in the broad pathway
of good faith and good will, so that no advantage .can be taken on either side,
but all is to be openness, h;-otherhood and love ; while all,are to be treated.a8
of the same flesh'andblood." These are, indeed, words of true greatness.
''Without any carnal weapons," says one of his companions, "we entered
the land, and inljabited therein as safe as if there had been thousands of gar
risons!" " This httle State," says Oldmixon, " subsisted in the midst of ^ix
Indian natiofls, 'siritlto.g.t SO mubh as a roiUtig, for its defence." Agreatmanj

23
worthy of the mantle of Penn, the veneraMe philanthropist, Clarkson, in his
nfe,,of the founder of Pennsylvania, says, " The Pennsylvanians became
armed, though without arms ; they became strong, though without strength ;
they became safe, without' the ordinary means of safety. The constable's
staff was the only instrument of authority ansongst 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 vpar."
Greater than the divinity that doth hedge a king, is the divinity that encom
passes the righteous man, and the righteous people. Tlie flowers of pros
perity smiled in the blessed footprints of William Penn. His people were un--
molested and happy, while (sad, but true contrast ! ) those of other colonies,
acting upon'the policy of the world, building forts, and showing themselves
in arms, not after receiving provocation, but merely in the anticipation^ or
from the fear, of insults or danger, were harrassed by perpetual alarms, and
pierced by the sharp arrows of savage war.
This pattern of a Christian Commonwealth never fails t& arrest the' admi
ration of all who contemplate its beauties. It drew an epigram of eulogy
from the caustic pen of Voltaire, and has been fondly painted by many
virtupus historians. Every ingenuous soul in our dayoff'ers his willing tribute
to those celestial graces of justice and humanity, by the side of which the
flinty hardnesss of the Pilgrims of Plymouth Rock seems earthly and
coarse. But let us not confine ourselves to barren words in recognition of virtue. — ¦
While we see the right, and approve it, too, let us dare to pursue it. Let us
now, in this age of civihzation, surrounded by Christian nations, by willing to
follow the successful example of William Penn, surrounded by savages.—
Let us, while we recognize those transcendent ordinances of God, the Law of
Right and the Law of Love,' — the double suns which illumine the moral
universe,— .aspire to the true glory, and what is higher than gtery, the great
good, of taking the lead in the disarming of the nations. Let us abandon the
system' of preparation for war in time of peace, as irrational, unchristian,
vainly prodigal of expense, and having a direct tendency to excite the very
evil, against which it professes to guard. Let the enormous means thus'
released from hon hands, be devoted'to labors of beneficence. Our battle
ments shall be schools, hospitals, colleges and churches ; our arsenals shall
beihhraries; our navy shall be peaceful ships, on errands of perpetual com
merce; our army shalW be the teachers of youth, and the ministers of
rehgion. This is indeed, the cheap defence of nations. ' In such entrench
ments, what Christian soul can be touched with fear. Angels of the Lord
shall throw over the land an invisible, but impenetrable panoply ;
Or if virtue feeHe were
J Heaven itself -wouM stoop to her.
At^he thought of SKch a change in pohcy, the imagination loses itself ih

21
the vain efibrt to 'follow the various streams of happlnes'?, which gush forth
as from a thousand hills. Then shall the naked bs clothed and the hungry
fed. Institutions ot science and learning shall crown every hill-top; hospitals
for the sick, and other retreats for the unfortunate children of the world, for
all who suff'er in any way, in mhid, body or estate, shall nestle in every val
ley; while the spires of new churches shall leap exulting to the skies. The
whole land shall bear witness to the chaihge ; art shall confess it in the new
inspiration of the calivass.and the marble ; the harp of the poet shall pro-.
claim it in a loftier rhyme. Above all, the heart of man' shall bear -witness ¦¦
to it, in the elevation of his sentiments,' in the expansion'of his affections, in
his devotion to the highest truth, in liis appreciation of true greatness. The '
eagle of our country, without the terror of his beak, and- dropping^ the force
ful thunderbolt from his pounces, shall soar with the olive of Peace, into
untried realms of ether, nearer to the sun.
Far be from us, fellow-citizens, on this Anniversary ; the illusions of National
freedom in which we are too prone to indulge. We have but "half done, when
we have made ourselves free. Let not the scornful taunt be directed at- us ••
" They wish to he free ; but know not how to be jiist." Freedomis not an
end in itself; but a means only ; a means of seciiring Jtistice and Happiness,
the real end and aim of States, as of every human heart. It'becomes us to
inquire earnestly if there is not much to be done by which these can be pro
moted. If I have succeeded in impressing on your minds the truths, which
I have upheld to-day, you will be ready to join in efforts for the Ahohtionof
War, and of all preparation for War, as indispensable to the true grandeur of.
our country.
To this great work let me sumraon you. That Future .which fiUed the lofty
visions of the sages and bards' of Greece and Rome, which was foretold by the
prophets and heralded by the evangelists, when- man in Happy Isles, or in a ,
new Paradise, shall confess the lovehness of Peace, maybe secured- by your .
care, if not for yourselves,- at least for your children. Beheve that you can do
it and you can doit. The true golden age is before you, not behind you. If .
man has been driven once from Paradise, while an angel with a flaming sword .
forbade his return, there is another Paradise, even on earth, which, he may ,
form for himself, by the cultivation of the kindly virtues of life, where the .
confusion of tongues shall be dissolved in the union of hearts, - where there
shall be a perpetual jocund spring, and sweet strains borne on " the odoriferous
wings of gerffle gales," more pleasant than the Vale of aJempe, richer than the
garden of the Hesperides, with no dragon to guard-; its 'golden fruit.
Let it not be said that the age does not demand this work. The mighty con
querors of the Past, from their fiery sepulchres, demand it; the blood of mil;.-
lions unjustly shed in war crying from the ground demands it ; the voices of all
good men demand it; the conscience even of the soldier whispers " Peace.''
There are considerations, springing from our situation and condition, which fer-

•5
*ently inylte us to take the lead in this great work. To this should bend tha
patriotic ardor of the land ; the ambhion of the statesman ; the efforts of the
scholar ; tha pervasive influence of the press ; the mild persuasion of the sanc
tuary ; the.^early teachings of the school. Here, in ampler ether and diviner
air, are untried fields for exalted triumphs, more truly worthy the American
name, than any snatched from rivers of blood. War is known as the Last
Reason of Kings. Let it be no reason of our Republic. Let us renounce and
throw off for ever the yoke of a tyranny more oppressive than any in the
annals of the world. As those standing on the mountain-tops first discern the
coming beams of morning, let us, from the vantage-ground of liberal institutions
first recognize the ascending sun of a new era ! Lift high the gates, and let
the King of Glory in — the King of true Glory — of Peace. I catch the last words
of music from the lips of innocence and beauty;
And let the whole earth be filled with his glory !
It is a beautiful picture in Grecian story, that there was at least one spot, the
small Island of Delos, dedicated to the Gods, and kept at all times sacred from
war, where the citizens of hostile countries met and united in a common wor
ship. So let us dedicate our broad country ! The Temple of Honor shall be
surrounded by the Temple of Concord, so that the former can be entered only
through the portals of the latter ; the horn of Abundance shall overflow at its
gates; the angel of Religion shall be the guide over its steps of flashing ada
mant; while within Jdstice, returned to the earth from her long exile in the
skies, shall rear her serene and majestic front. And the future chiefs of the
Republic, destined to uphold the glories of a new era, unspotted by human
blood, shall be " the first in Peace, and the first in the hearts of their country.
men." But while we seek these blissful glories for ourselves, let us strive to extend
¦&em to other lands. Let the bugles sound the Truce of God to the whole
world for ever. Let the selfish boast of the Spartan women become the grand
chorus of mankind, that they have never seen the smoke of an enemy's camp.
Let the iron belt of martial music which now encompasses the earth, be ex
changed for the golden ces^us of Peace, clothing all with celestial beauty. —
History dwells with fondness on the reverent homage, that was bestowed, by
inassacreing soldiers, on the spot occupied by the Sepulchre of the Lord. Vain
man ! to restrain his regard to a few'feet of sacred mould ! The whole earth
is the Sepulchre of the Lord ; nor can any righteous man profane any part
thereof. Let us recognize this truth ; and now, on this Sabbath of ourcountry,
lay a new stone in the grand Temple of Universal Peace, whose dome shaU be
as lofty as the firmament of Heaven, as broad and comprehensive as the earth
Itwlf.

26 *"
EXTRACT
TEOM A THANKSGIVINO SERMON DELIVERED IN THE PIRST ERESBTTfiRIAM
CHURCH, PHILADELPHIA, NOVEMBER 27, 1845-: BY ALBERT BARNES.
Who has ever told the evils, and the curses, and the crimes of war! Who
can describe the horrors of the carnage of battle? Who can portray the
fiendish passions which reign there? Who can tell the amount of the treas
ures wasted, and of the blood that has flowed, and of the tears that have
been shed over the slain? Who can register the crimes which war has ori
ginated and sustained? If there is anything in which earth, more than in any
other, resembles hell, it is in its wars. And who, with the heart of a man —
of a lover of human happiness — of a hater of carnage and crime — can look
but with pity; who can repress his contempt in looking on all the trappings of
'war — the tinsel, the nodding plumes, even the animating mnsic — designed to
cover over the reality of the contemplated murder of fathers, and husbands,
and sons?
And yet we, a Christian people; brothers of Christian nations; associates
with Christian people abroad in purposes of philanthropy, talk coolly of going
again to war; and are ready to send forth our sons to fight, and kill, and the,
on the slightest pretext of quarrel with a Christian nation — a nation with
whom are all our fathers' sepulchres. We talk of it as a matter of cool arith
metic; as affecting the price of flour, and pork, and cotton; as a question of
close calculation between the North and the South; as likely to affect stocks
and securities; and hardly dare to lisp a word of the enormous wrong in the
face of high heaven in arming ourselves to imbrue our hands in the blood of
brothers. This day, amidst our thanksgivings, our prayers should go up to"'
Heaven for peace — universal peace — that we may do right^ana that others
may do right, and that the blood of carnage may never again stain our soil,
or be shed on the deck of a rnan-of-war. There have been wars enough in^
this land. If it were desirable to show that, as a nation, we have prowess,
and can fight well, it has been done. Let it be enough for this, that we can
point the nations, if we are called on to do it, to Lake Erie, and to the Ocean;
to Bunker HiU, and Trenton, and Yorktown. That is enough in our military
glory. We are called into being, as a nation, for higher and nobler ends; and
it is our vocation — and especially the vocation of the people of this Com
monwealth of Penn — to show to the world the blessings of the principles
of peace. When the world's history shall all be written, let not the first
pages of our own story be blackened like those of Assyria and of Rome. —
Let there be so much light, and so much true glory evolved from the arts of
peace, that the few dark spots which war has already made — for war always
does it-^may be covered over with the living splendor that shall have accu
mulated in a long career of true glory.