Yet there have been always some to lament that the creatures whom G.o.d has made should thus destroy each other. They have felt that human life was short enough, without its being made still shorter by violence.

Among the most warlike nations there have been wise and reflecting minds, who felt that war was an evil, and deplored it as a judgment.

Rome was one of the most warlike nations of the ancient world. Yet three of her best Emperors gave their testimony against war, and were most reluctant to engage in it. Adrian truly loved peace, and endeavoured to promote it. He saw that war was a foe to those arts and sciences which cause nations to prosper. t.i.tus Antoninus Pius tried to live in peace with every one. He did all in his power to prevent war, and said he would "rather save the life of one citizen, than destroy a thousand enemies." Marcus Aurelius considered war both as a disgrace and a calamity. When he was forced into it, his heart revolted.

Yet these were heathen emperors. They had never received the Gospel, which breathes "peace and good-will to man." The law of Moses did not forbid war "An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth," was the maxim of the Jewish people. But the law of Jesus Christ is a law of peace. "I say unto you, that ye resist not evil," were the words not only of his lips, but of his example. His command to his disciples was, "See that ye love one another."

The spirit of war, therefore, was not condemned by the Jewish law, or by the creeds of the heathen. But it is contrary to the spirit of the Gospel.

Have you ever seriously considered the evil and sorrow of war? how it destroys the lives of mult.i.tudes, and makes bitter mourning in families and nations? You are sorry when you see a friend suffering pain, or a lame man with a broken bone, or even a child with a cut finger. But after a battle, what gashes and gaping wounds are seen, while the ground is red with the flowing blood, and the dying in their agony are trampled under the feet of horses, or covered with heaps of dead bodies.

Think too of the poverty and distress that come upon many families, who have lost the friend whose labour provided them with bread, upon the mourning of gray-headed parents from whose feeble limbs the prop is taken away; upon the anguish of wives for their slaughtered husbands; and the weeping of children, because their dear fathers must return to them no more.

All these evils, and many which there is not room to mention, come from a single battle. But in one war there are often many battles. Towns are sometimes burned, and the aged and helpless destroyed. The mother and her innocent babes perish in the flames of their own beloved homes.

It is very sad to think of the cruelty and bad pa.s.sions which war produces. Men, who have no cause to dislike each other, meet as deadly foes. They raise weapons of destruction, and exult to hear the groans of death. Rulers who make war, should remember the suffering and sin which it occasions, and how much more n.o.ble it is to save life than to destroy it.

Howard visited the prisons of Europe, and relieved the miseries of those who had no helper, and died with their blessings on his head. Bonaparte caused mult.i.tudes to be slain, and mult.i.tudes to mourn, and died like a chained lion upon a desolate island. Is not the fame of Howard better than that of Bonaparte?

The religious sect of Friends, or Quakers, as they are sometimes called, never go to war. The beautiful State of Pennsylvania was originally settled by them. William Penn, its founder, would not permit any discord with the Indians, its original inhabitants. He obtained the land of them by fair purchase, and set the example of treating them with justice and courtesy.

In most of the other colonies there had been fearful wars with the savages. In ambush and ma.s.sacre, the blood of the new-comers had been shed; and they had retaliated on the sons of the forest with terrible vengeance. Older States looked upon this proffer of peace as a dangerous experiment. They said, "These Quakers have put their heads under the tomahawk." But on the contrary, no drop of their blood was ever shed by the Indians in Pennsylvania. They gathered around William Penn with reverence and love. Rude warriors as they were, they admired his peaceful spirit. He explained his views to them with cordiality, and they listened to his words.

"We will not fight with you," he said, "nor shed your blood. If a quarrel arise, six of our people and six of your own, shall meet together and judge what is right, and settle the matter accordingly."

Subdued by his spirit of kindness and truth, they promised to live in peace with him and his posterity "so long as the sun and moon shall endure."

On his return to England, among the friends who gathered around the ship to bid him farewell, were groups of Indians with mournful brows, the women holding up their little ones, that they might have one more sight of the great and good man, whom they called their Father. Was not this more acceptable to Heaven than the din of strife, and the false glory of the conqueror?

So earnest was William Penn to convince his fellowmen that it was both their duty and privilege to live in peace, that he travelled into foreign countries for that purpose, using his eloquence, and knowledge of various languages with considerable success. Peter the Great, when studying the arts of civilization in England, was much interested by visits from this teacher of Peace, who conversed fluently with him in German. The young Czar listened with great attention and courtesy, while he unfolded his system. He then earnestly requested that it might be expressed for him in a few words, and William Penn wrote,

"Men must be holy, or they cannot be happy; they should be few in words, peaceable in life, suffer wrongs, love enemies, and deny themselves: without which, faith is false; worship, formality, and religion, hypocrisy."

The future Emperor of the Russians, though not a convert to the doctrine of the Quakers, regarded it with so much respect, that he repeatedly attended their meetings, evincing deep and interested attention. To his mind, the theory of peace seemed beautiful, yet he considered it impossible that wars should be prevented. He did not believe that contending nations could be made to settle their differences without an appeal to arms, or that their anger might be soothed by the mediation of a friendly people, as a good man makes peace between offended neighbours. It did not occur to him that a Christian ruler might mediate with the soothing policy of the patriarch Abraham to his wrathful kinsman:

"Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, or between my herdsmen and thy herdsmen, for we be brethren."

The Liberated Fly.

A Fly was struggling in a vase of ink, Which with my feathery quill-top I releas'd, As the rope saves the drowning mariner.

I thought at first the luckless wight was dead, But mark'd a quivering of the slender limbs, And laid him on a paper in the sun, To renovate himself.

With sudden spasm Convulsion shook him sore, and on his back Discomfited he lay. Then, by his side I strew'd some sugar, and upon his breast Arrang'd a particle, thinking, perchance, The odour of his favourite aliment Might stimulate the palate, and uncoil The folded trunk.

But, straight, a troop of friends Gather'd around him, and I deem'd it kind To express their sympathy, in such dark hour Of adverse fortune. Yet, behold! they came To forage on his stores, and rudely turn'd And toss'd him o'er and o'er, to help themselves With more convenience. Quite incens'd to see Their utter want of pitying courtesy, I drove these venal people all away, And shut a wine-gla.s.s o'er him, to exclude Their coa.r.s.e intrusion.

Forthwith, they return'd, And through his palace peer'd, and, round and round Gadding, admission sought: yet all in vain.

And so, a wondrous buzzing they set up, As if with envy mov'd to see him there, The untasted luxury at his very lips, For which they long'd so much.

Then suddenly, The prisoner mov'd his head, and rose with pain, And dragg'd his palsied body slow along, Marking out sinuous lines, as on a map, Coast, islet, creek, and lithe promontory, Blank as the Stygian ink-pool, where he plung'd So foolishly. But a nice bath was made In a small silver spoon, from which he rose Most marvellously chang'd, stretching outright All his six legs uncramp'd, and, opening wide And shutting with delight his gauzy wings, Seem'd to applaud the cleansing properties Of pure cold water. Then with appet.i.te, He took the food that he had loath'd before; And in this renovation of the life Of a poor noteless insect, was a joy, And sweet content, I never could have felt From taking it away.

Still let us guard, For every harmless creature, G.o.d's good gifts Of breath and being; since each beating heart Doth hide some secret sense of happiness Which he who treadeth out can ne'er restore.

The Good Brother and Sister.

Jacob Bicks was a native of Leyden, in Holland, and born in the year 1657. His parents were religious, and gave strict attention to his early education, and their efforts were rewarded. He became tenderly conscientious, and in all his conduct sought to obey them and please G.o.d.

When the plague raged in Holland, in 1664, he was seized with the fatal infection. At first he seemed drowsy and lethargic, but during his waking intervals, was observed to be engaged in prayer.

"This," said he, "gives me comfort in my distress."

Perceiving that he suffered pain, he was asked if he would like again to see the physician.

"No," he earnestly answered, "I wish to have him no more. The Lord will help me, for I well know that He is about to take me to himself."

"Dear child," said his father, "this grieves us to the heart."

"Father," answered the meek sufferer, "let us pray. The Lord will be near for my helper."

After prayer, he spoke with a stronger and more joyful voice, his parting words,

"Come now, father and mother, come and kiss me, I feel that I am to die.

Farewell, dear parents, farewell, dear sister, farewell all. Now shall I go to heaven, and to the holy angels. Remember ye not what is said by Jeremiah, 'Blessed is he who trusteth in the Lord.' I trust in Him, and lo! he blesseth me. 'Little children, love not the world, for it pa.s.seth away.' Away then with the pleasant things of the world, away with my toys, away with my books, in heaven I shall have a sufficiency of the true wisdom without them."

"G.o.d will be near thee," said the father. "He shall uphold thee."

"It is written," answered the child, "that He giveth grace unto the humble. I shall humble myself under His mighty hand, and He will lift me up."

"Hast thou indeed, so strong a faith, my dear son?" asked the afflicted father.

"Yes," said the dying boy, "He hath given me this strong faith in Jesus Christ. He that believeth on Him hath everlasting life, and shall overcome the wicked one. I believe in Jesus Christ, my Redeemer. He will never leave nor forsake me. He will give me eternal life. He will let me sing, 'Holy, holy, holy, Lord G.o.d of Sabaoth.'"

Then, with his failing breath, they heard upon his lips the softly murmured prayer, "Lord, be merciful to me a poor sinner," as with a trusting smile his spirit pa.s.sed away, just as he had completed his seventh year.

His sister, Susanna, seven years older than himself, was smitten by the same terrible pestilence, a few weeks after his death. She had been from the beginning a child of great sweetness of disposition, attentive to her studies, and so faithful in her religious duties as to be considered an example for other young persons, and even for older Christians.

Bending beneath the anguish of her disease, like a crushed and beautiful flower she sustained herself and comforted others with the words of that Blessed Book, in which was her hope.

"If Thy law were not my delight, I should perish in this my affliction.

Be merciful to me, oh Father! be merciful to me a sinner, according unto thy word."

Fixing her eyes tenderly upon her mourning parents, she said,

"Cast your burden upon the Lord. He shall sustain you. He will never suffer the righteous to be moved. Therefore, dearest mother, be comforted. He will cause all things to go well that concern you."

Her mother answered with tears,