War and Peace

War and Peace i.

Editor Improvement Era, Dear Brother : No other series of school books in my opinion ever compared favorably with the old "National" readers. I will appreciate having you reproduce the following articles from

the Fourth Reader, in this series : "Lad and His Neighbor," "Bat- tlefields or Vulture Shambles," and "The Watcher on the Tower." I should like also to see the following titles, from the same source, in the Era to follow : "True Freedom and How to Gain It," "Challenge to America," "The Days that are Gone," "War." I delight in all the articles in The Reader and among others esteem the above selections very highly indeed. Just at this time when a terrible war is raging in Europe, I believe all of your read- ders will appreciate the appropriateness of reproducing these arti- cles. I am sure they will be of great value to the youth of Israel who are trying to follow the teachings of the Prince of Peace. These articles express my sentiments far better than I could with any language at my command, hence, I shall not write about peace and war. I thank the Lord that in my boyhood the impressions made upon my heart by the selections that I am sending you, gave me a loathing and a horror of war which has never left me. Years ago I wrote an article for the Era quoting from "Battlefields or Vulture Shambles," and drawing a comparison between the lives of George Goddard and Karl G. Mseser, and Napoleon Bonaparte, suggesting that the latter was entitled to the appellation "the friend of the vultures." I make no excuses in requesting you to repro- duce these articles. Sincerely your brother, Herer J. Grant

LAD AND UTS NEIGHBOR

I had, said William Lad. the apostle of peace, a fine field of grain, growing upon an out-farm, at some distance from the homestead. Whenever I rode by I saw my neighbor Pnlcifer's sheep in the lot, destroying my hopes of a harvest. These sheep were of the gaunt, long-legged kind, active as spaniels they would :

spring over the highest fence, and no partition wall could keep them out. I complained to Neighbor Pulcifer about them, sent him fre-

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778 [MPRl >VEMENT E RA

quent messages, but all without avail. Perhaps they would be kept out for a day or two; but the legs of his sheep were long, and my grain more tempting than the adjoining pasture. I rode — by again the sheep were still there 1 became angry, and told :

my men to set the dogs on them and, if that would not do, I ;

would pay them, if they would shoot the sheep. T rode away much agitated for I was not so much of a peace ;

man then as I am now, and I felt literally full of fight.All at once, a light flashed in upon me. I asked myself, "Would it not

be well for you to try in your own conduct the peace principle you are teaching to others?" I thought it all over, and settled down in my mind as to the best course to be pursued. The next day I rode over to see Neighbor Pulcifer. I found him chopping wood at his door. "Good morning, neighbor!" No answer. "Good morning!" I repeated. He gave a kind of grunt without looking up "I came," continued I, "to see about the sheep." At this, he threw down his ax and exclaimed, in an angry manner: "Now, aren't you a pretty neighbor, to tell your men to kill my sheep ? I heard !" of it a rich man, like you, to shoot a poor man's sheep ;

"I was wrong, neighbor," said I "but it won't do to let your ;

sheep eat up all that grain so I came over to say that I would ;

take your sheep to my homestead pasture, and put them in with mine and in the fall you shall take them again, and if any one is ;

missing, you may take your pick out of my whole flock." Pulcifer looked confounded he did not know how to take me. ;

At last he stammered out: "Now, Squire, are you in earnest?" "Certainly I am," I answered "it is better for me to feed your ;

sheep in my pasture on grass, than to feed them here on grain and ;

I see the fence can't keep them out." After a moment's silence, "The sheep shan't trouble you any more," exclaimed Pulcifer. "I will fetter them all. But I'll let you know that, when any man talks of shooting, I can shoot, too and when they are kind and neighborly, I can be kind, too." The sheep never again trespassed on my lot. "And, my friends," he would continue, addressing the audience, "remember that when you, talk of injuring your neighbors, they will talk of injuring you. When nations threaten to fight, other nations will be ready, too. Love will beget love a wish to be at peace will keep ;

you in peace. You can overcome evil with good. There is no other way."

BATTLEFIELDS, OR VULTURES' SHAMBLES

As I was sitting within a hollow rock, and watching my sheep that fed in the valley, I heard two vultures crying to each other on the summit of the cliff. Both voices were earnest and

WAR AND PEACE 77')

deliberate. My curiosity prevailed over my care of the Muck. I climbed slowly and silently from crag' to crag concealed among - ,

the shrubs, till I found a cavity where I might sit and listen with- out suffering or giving disturbance. I soon perceived that my labor would be well repaid, for an old vulture was sitting on a naked prominence, with her young about her, whom she was instructing in the arts of a vulture's life, and preparing, by her last lecture, for their final dismission to

the mountains and the skies. "My children," said the old vulture, "you will the less want my instructions, because you have had my practice before your eyes. You have seen me snatch from the farm the household fowl; you have seen me seize the leveret in the bush, and the kid in the pasture you know how to fix your talons, and how to bal- ;

ance your flight when you are laden with prey. But you re- member the taste of more delicious food : I have often regaled

you with the flesh of man." "Tell us," said the young vultures, "where man may be found, and how he may be known. His flesh is surely the natural food of a vulture ! Whyhave you never brought a man in your talons to the nest?" "He is too bulky," said the mother. "When we find a man, we can only tear his flesh, and leave his bones upon the ground." "Since man is so big," said the young ones, "how do you kill him ? You are afraid of the wolf and of the bear. By what power are vultures superior to man? Is man more defenseless than a sheep?" "We have not the strength of man," returned the mother, "and the vulture would seldom feed upon his flesh, had not nature, that devoted him to our nourishment, infused into him a strange ferocity, which I have never observed in any other being that feeds upon the earth. "Two herds of men," continued she, "will often meet, and shake the earth with noise, and fill the air with fire. When you hear noise, and see fire, with flashes along the ground, hasten to the place with your swiftest wing, for men are surely destroy- ing one another you will then find the ground smoking with ;

blood, and covered with carcasses, of which many are mangled, for the convenience of the vulture." "But when men have killed their prey," said a young vulture, "why do they not eat it? When the wolf has killed a sheep, he suffers not the vulture to touch it, till he is satisfied himself. Is not man a kind of wolf?" "Man," said the mother, "is the only beast who kills that which he does not devour, and this quality makes him the greatest benefactor to our species." "If men kill our prey, and lay it in our way," said the young one, "what need shall we have of laboring for ourselves?"

780 1MPROVEMKNT ERA "Because man will, sometimes," replied the mother, "remain for a long time quiet in his den. The old vultures will tell you when you are to watch his motions. When you see men in great numbers moving close together, like a flock of storks, you may conclude that they are hunting, and that you will soon revel in human blood." "But still," said the young one, "I would gladly know the reason of this mutual slaughter. I could never kill what I could not eat." "My child," said the mother, "this is a question which I cannot answer, though I am reckoned the most subtle bird of the mountain. "When I was young, I used frequently to visit the eyry of an old vulture, who dwelt upon Carpathian rocks. He had made many observations he knew the places that afforded prey round ;

his habitation, as far in every direction as the strongest wing can fly, between the rising and setting of the summer sun and he had ;

fed year after year on the vitals of men. "His opinion was, that men had only the appearance of animal life,being really vegetables, with a power of motion and that ;

as the boughs of an oak are dashed together by the storm, that swine may fatten on the falling acorns, so men are, by some unaccountable power, driven one against another till they lose their motion, that vultures may be fed. "Others think they have observed something of contrivance and policy among these caterers of ours and those that hover;

more closely around them, pretend that there is in every herd one that gives directions to the rest, and seems to be more eminently delighted with carnage. What it is that entitles him to such pre- eminence, we know not. He is seldom the biggest or the swift- est but such are his eagerness and diligence in providing and pre- ;

paring food for us, that we think the leader of such human herds is entitled to our warmest gratitude, and should be styled, The

Friend of the Vultures !" Dr. Samuel Johnson

The Watcher on the Tower "What dost thou see, lone watcher on the tower? Is the day breaking? comes the wished-for-hour? Tell us the signs, and stretch abroad thy hand, If the bright morning dawns upon the land."

"The stars are clear above me, scarcely one Has dimmed its rays in reverence to the sun; But yet I see on the horizon's verge, Some fair, faint streaks, as if the light would surge.

— —

"And is that all, O watcher on the tower? Look forth again; it must be near the hour. Dost thou not see the snowy mountain copes, And the green woods beneath them on the slopes?" "A mist envelopes them; I can not trace Their outline; but the day comes on apace. The clouds roll up in gold and amber flakes, And all the stars grow dim. The morning breaks." 1

"We thank thee, lonely watcher on the tower; But look again; and tell us, hour by hour, All thou beholdest; many of us die Ere the day comes; oh, give them a reply!"

"I hope, but cannot tell. I hear a song, Vivid as day itself, and clear and strong, — As of a lark young prophet of the noon Pouring in sunlight his seraphic tune."

"What doth he say— O watcher on the tower? Is he a prophet? Doth the dawning hour Inspire his music? Is his chant sublime, Filled with the glories of the future time?"

— "He prophesies; his heart is full: his lay— Tells of the brightness of a peaceful day A day not cloudless, nor devoid of storm, But sunny for the most, and clear and warm."

"We thank thee, watcher on the lonely tower, For all thou tellest. Sings he of an hour When Error shall decay, and Truth grow strong, And Right shall rule supreme, and vanquish Wrong?" "He sings of brotherhood, and joy, and peace, Of days when jealousies and hate shall cease; When war shall die, and man's progressive mind Soar as unfettered as its God designed."

"Well done! thou watcher on the lonely tower! Is theday breaking? dawns the happy hour? We pine to see it: — tell us, yet again, If the broad daylight breaks upon the plain?"

"It breaks — it comes —the misty shawdows fly:

A rosy radiance gleams upon the sky; The mountain-tops reflect it calm and clear: The plain is yet in shade, but day is near." Charles Mackay