Who called this demon up? by
Archibald Brown from Peace versus War July the 17th 1870 Editors note, Brown is referring
to the upcoming French-German war, July 19, 1870 to May 10,
1871. By pride comes nothing but strife, Proverbs 13, verse 10. It is humiliating to our race
to find that after well near nineteen centuries of Christian
time have passed, the clumsy method of war yet remains the
last resource of arbitration for the nations. Humiliating,
did I say? Yes, and something infinitely
more. War is a crime only worthy of
its father. strip war of its outward pageantry
and pomp, tear from it the gaudy cloak called National Honour,
look at it in its naked reality, and was ever so loathsome and
horrid a spectre seen outside of Hell? This is the monster
that has so unexpectedly stalked upon the scene, carrying dismay
and panic and grief into the hearts and homes of myriads.
Who called this demon up? What compensation is there for
the curse? These questions are soon answered. This war is only the food demanded
by accursed pride in order to glut its insatiable appetite. Men are to become mere food for
the cannon, to maintain what is so libelously called national
glory. It looks like bitter sarcasm
to contrast the paltry causes of war with the dreadful results
of war. Some petty point of etiquette
neglected, some ridiculously little slight, which in ordinary
everyday life would be counted unworthy of any notice, becomes,
when offered to a nation, sufficient motive to lead it to the battlefield. To wash away some tiny stain
supposed to be found on the robe of honour—a stain not worthy
of the shedding of a tear—behold, a very ocean of blood is spelt. To avenge an insult. to maintain
the old bugbear of the balance of power, or to glorify the ambition
of a man. Countries are desolated, trade
is paralyzed, blood is spilt in unknown measure, agonies are
endured by those who are as innocent of the quarrel as newborn babes. and all the miseries contained
in that one word war are let loose upon the continent. It
is horrible and sickening beyond all description to think that
even this week there will be heard the roar of the cannon
and the sharp crack of the rifle, carrying death to a thousand
hearts. Who can bear to contemplate without
a sigh the wives that will be made widows and the multitudes
of children that will shortly become orphans? you