But who will undertake to prove that soldiers are usually kind and tender-hearted, and that their employment has a natural tendency to promote active benevolence, while it requires all their study of mind and strength of body to injure their enemies to the greatest extent?

Though we often hear of the generosity and attention of soldiers to prisoners, and notwithstanding I am willing to allow that feelings of humanity are not altogether obliterated from every soldier, yet much of this apparent kindness may flow from a desire of better treatment themselves should circumstances be reversed, or from a hope of the applause of mankind. My object, however, is not to prove that all soldiers are destitute of humanity, but that their occupation has a natural tendency and actually does weaken their kind and tender feelings, and harden their hearts.

Is it not a fact that those who are engaged in the spirit of war, either in the council or in the field, are not usually so meek, lowly, kind, and tender-hearted as other men? Does the soldier usually become kind and tender-hearted while trained to the art of killing his fellow-man, or more so when engaged in the heat of the battle, stepping forward over the wounded and hearing the groans of the expiring? Does he actually put on bowels of tenderness, mercy, and forgiveness, while he bathes his sword in the blood of his brother? Do these scenes generally change the lion into the lamb? On the contrary, do not the history of ages and the voice of millions bear testimony that the whole trade of war has a natural tendency to blunt the tender edge of mercy and chill all the sympathizing feelings of the human heart? Who that is a parent, having an uncommonly hard-hearted and unfeeling son, would send him into the camp to subdue his inhumanity and to stamp upon him kind and tender feelings? If war has not a natural tendency to harden the heart, permit me to inquire why mankind do not usually feel as much at the distress occasioned by war as by other calamities?

It would be truly astonishing, were it not so common, to see with what composure the generality of mankind hear the account of barbarous and destructive battles. They may have some little excitement when they hear of savages—whose religion teaches them revenge—using the tomahawk and scalping knife; but when thousands are torn to pieces with shot and shells and butchered with polished steels, then it becomes a very polite and civil business, and those who perish are contemplated as only reclining on a bed of honor. If an individual in common life breaks a bone or fractures a limb, all around him not only sympathize but are ready to aid in alleviating his distress; but when thousands are slain and ten thousand wounded in the field of battle, the shock is but trifling, and the feelings are soon lost in admiring the gallantry of this hero and the prowess of that veteran. And why all this sensibility at the pains of an individual, and all this indifference at the sufferings of thousands, if war has not a natural tendency to harden the heart and destroy the tender feelings of mankind?

It is a fact, however, so notorious that the spirit and practice of war do actually harden the heart and chill the kind and tender feelings of mankind, that I think few will be found to deny it, and none who have ever known or felt the spirit of Christ.

The spirit of war must be very unlike the spirit of the gospel, for the gospel enforces no duty the practice of which has a natural tendency to harden men’s hearts, but in proportion as they are influenced by its spirit and actuated by its principles they will be humane; therefore, if war hardens men’s hearts it is not a Christian duty, and of course it cannot be right for Christians to engage in it.

II. WAR IS INHUMAN, AS IN ITS NATURE AND TENDENCY IT ABUSES GOD’S ANIMAL CREATION

When God at first created man, he gave him authority over the beasts of the field, the fowls of the air, and the fishes of the deep. After he had swept away the old ungodly world of mankind for their violence with all the animal creation, except those in the ark, he was pleased to renew to Noah the same privilege of being lord over the animal world.

It may not perhaps be improper here to digress a little and remark that this appears to have been the original bounds of man’s authority,—that of having dominion only over the animal world and not over his fellow-man. It appears that God reserved to himself the government of man, whom he originally created in his own image; from which it may be inferred that man has no lawful authority for governing his fellow-man except as the special executor of divine command, and that no government can be morally right except that which acknowledges and looks up to God as the supreme head and governor.

But to return: although the animal world is put under the dominion of man for his use, yet he has no authority to exercise cruelty towards it. “For the merciful man regardeth the life of his beast.” God is very merciful to his creatures; he not only hears the young ravens when they cry but he opens his hand and supplies the wants of the cattle upon a thousand hills.