From the Morning Star, Aug., 20th, 1863.

IT IS TERRIBLY TRUE-none the less true that the Times has said it-that the war in America is an event shameful to our human nature and to this nineteenth of the Christian centuries. War is at all times and in all countries a collection of horrors. It is hardly possible to draw too large, or to colour too highly, the cartoon that depicts the battle-field. If the scene had no accessories, it would yet surpass in appaling reality the darkest devices of the imagination. If armies met upon an open barren space-if they shunned the paths of civilisation and the haunts of peace, -if they pitched their camps on a sandy desert or a rocky table land-if there they assailed each other with every engine of destruction that science could furnish, and executed the movements prescribed by military art with all the ferocity of maddened passion-it would be a sickening sight, a ghastly spectacle of suffering and death. No eye but that of the foul birds hovering over the banquet prepared for his cruel beak could look unpitying on such a scene. The surviving actors, however hardened by experience and disciplined by duty, could not fail to regard with sobs and tears the comrades whose mutilated corpses they inter, or whose bleeeding, shattered bodies they remove to the hospitals, in which, too likely, fresh agonies await them. Nay, even from the fallen foe no soldier not absolutely imbruted by his work could withold compassion. Let the painter divide his canvas between the rage of battle and the rough tenderness of the ambulance. Let him give no place to gentle Nature or to peaceful man. Let there be nothing in his picture to remind the spectator of scenes in which God's bounty has been augmented by human toil. Let there be no blood-sodden grass, no trampled corn, no shot-torn trees, no smoking homesteads, no mill or steeple turned into a fort-nothing but the sullen earth, the darkened sky, the glittering masses of human steel, the blaze of cannon, the rush of cavalry, the heaps of unburied dead mingled with the stunned or anguishing living, and the hospital parties gathering up the embers of half-extinct humanity. Terrible as would be such a picture, it would fall far short of the reality presented by scenes of actual warfare. For not even in our wars with Kaffirs or Maoris, still less in our Chinese or Indian battle-flelds, is there that absence of natural and civilised life which we have supposed. The African fights within sight of his kraal-the New Zealander defends with a stockade his humble home. To both these are accessories of fertility and beauty that heighten the gloom of the contrast between the calm of nature and the rage of man. But if we would see the contrast sharpened to the uttermost-if we would really realise the horrors that war accumulates upon its victims-we must look at such fields as those of Gettysburgh and Chancellorsville in the light of a familiar landscape. It is easy enough to do this. The chroniclers of the war supply us with particulars that may readily be transferred to our haunts. The semicircle of hills--the groves that embosom rural mansions-the tall trees that stand like a wall of green against the horizon-the roads marked out by hedges and white farmyard gates-the patches of corn-land and of meadow-the country town, with its roofs and steeples, and the cemetery on the contiguous slope, these we can see even from the windows of our London dwellings, and visit in a summer's stroll. The English settlers in Pennsylvania and other New World States could not but carry with them the names of their birth-places; for Nature, ever repeating herself with endless variations, astonished them with the reproduction there of every English county, from Cumberland to Sussex. And we, wandering about our undulating island, rejoicing in the peaceful loveliness of its summer landscapes, cannot but remember ever and anon that on just such scenes war has set its red brand, and burned in with characters of fire the curse of passion uncontrolled by law.

Shall we be content with these vague musings? Is it enongh to indulge in philanthropic reflections on the horribleness of slaughtering human beings and breaking up the machinery of civilisation? Such meditations used to be called morbid such philanthrophy, unpatriotic. When from our pen has flowed a lamentation over blood spilt like water without water's fructifying, cleansing powerwhen we have mourned for the fate of Englishmen, Frenchmen, Russians, Turks, Chinese, or Indians, butchered with the finest weapons that science could provide in the most doubtful cause thate statecraft could invent-when we have murmured at the creation of armaments whose ultimate object could be nothing else than slaughter more swift than by any previous method-we have been sternly or scornfully rebuked by the power that now lifts up streaming eyes to Heaven in pathetic deprecation of

war! We remember, too, that once a favoured writer in the columns of the Timesdear to many humane hearts by the initials "S. G. O."-ventured to pity the soldiers of the CZAR slain in the Crimea, and he was fiercely turned upon, and scoffingly bidden to stuff his ears with wool against the cries of stupid Tartars. May we now be permitted to suggest that for this war there may be as reasonable an object as for that-and to urge that Englishmen, searching out the just cause, give to it the sympathy that may assuage and even shorten the calamities of the conflict? To all quarrels there must be a right and a wrong. To all struggles there must come an end. To believe that the moral judgment of the world is helpless to strengthen the right and to hasten the end is to despair of the cessation of wars from off the earth, and to rank them with the fierce phenomena of nature-blameless and inevitable as the earthquake or the storm. We have a happier faith. We look with confidence for a time when battles shall be as unknown as the martyr's fire. And to promote its advent we invoke the condemnation of English morality upon the authors of the strife that now desolates America.

Reviews.

THE ANTI-SLAVERY CAUSE IN AMERICA, AND ITS MARTYRS.-By Eliza Wigham.-(London: A. W. Bennett).-The Anti-Slavery Cause in America, and its Martyrs is the title of a very interesting and instructive book, written by Eliza Wigham. Of course, no well-written work on this subject can fail to interest those whose thoughts ever rest on the subject of Slavery. From time to time, startling events occur which rouse the most apathetic, and stir the most careless and thoughtless. The awful drama being enacted in the western world has drawn attention to the causes of such a calamity, and necessarily the subject of Slavery is prominently forced on our consideration. It is well that the opportunity should be embraced by the friends of the negro, to point, with earnestness and power, to the duty of every Christian. In the book before us, of course there are many most touching histories of individual slaves, which, though we may have heard over and over again, seem, on every repetition, to draw fresh tears, deeper sighs of sympathy; but the writer does not confine herself to the sufferings of the slave,-rests not with the records of their wrongs in courts, where laws should be impartially administered, and justice rendered to all who appear.

The conduct of professing Christian churches respecting slavery, its advocacy by men holding office as Christ's ministers, as those whose duty it is to teach and preach His Gospel, these things are plainly pointed out and condemned as they ought to be; but the chief interest of the book seems to us to lie in the clearness with which the motives and conduct of the white martyrs to the Anti-Slavery cause are set forth, and so set forth, as not only to compel every heart to render them honour, but to stir every conscience to be up and doing in the same cause for which such a company of martyrs have suffered a noble band truly of men and women of all sects, ranks, and professions. Foremost stands

William Lloyd Garrison, in whose heart a widowed mother sowed the seeds from which sprung his love of liberty, and hatred of oppressing,imprisonment, bitter persecution in every form have been his, without power to move him.

Prominent in this list of martyrs to a holy cause, are the names of Maria Weston Chapman, Prudence Crandale, Lydia Maria Child,

Angelina and Sarah Gurnke, giving themselves, with all woman's earnestness and self-devotion, to the work they undertook. Students of Lane Seminary unhesitatingly sacrificed scholastic privileges, rather than countenance in any way the crying sin of Slavery. One of the most beautiful and affecting incidents recorded, is the martyrdom of Elija P. Lovejoy, an eminent editor, a minister of the gospel, of blameless life and conversation, whose mother and wife were scarcely less heroic than himself. We, with much pleasure, commend this very excellent and interesting book to our readers. As a resume of the AntiSlavery movement in America, it is really valuable for the fulness of its information, while it must attract by the pure spirit of charity and good will, combined with the love of liberty and right, which characterised its pages.

The Hartwell Peace and Temperance Festival.

On Wednesday and Thursday, August 12th and 13th, the Annual Peace and Temperance Festival was held in Hartwell Park, near Aylesbury. With his accustomed liberality, Dr. Lee had placed his park and grounds at the disposal of the Committee, and, the weather being beautifully fine, a very large number of holiday makers availed themselves of the opportunity to enjoy a day or two of thorough and healthful recreation. The hospitalities of Hartwell House were extended to several gentlemen who took part in the proceedings, as speakers at the several meetings which were held. Among others we observed the Rev. T. Pyne of Hook, the Rev. J. Nicholls of Mill Hill, the Rev. I. Doxsey, Messrs Dickson, Edmund Fry, George Howlett, Jabez Inwards, J. Rutherford, T. Reynolds, John Plato, and other well known friends of the Peace and Temperance causes. Meetings were held each day at past 2 in the Afternoon, and at 6 o'clock in the Evening, and it was remarked that, on each occasion the attendance of auditors was larger than at almost any previous Festival. Amusements of various kinds were actively carried on by the young people, but it was gratifying to observe how large a proportion of the visitors appeared to take an interest in the more serious business of the day, and the marked attention which they paid to the addresses of the several speakers. Dr. Lee read an opening address, in which he presented a very interesting and able resume of the progress which had been made in various movements of philanthropy during the past year. He urged strongly the importance of a large reduction in the Military and Naval expenditure of the country, and of seeking to promote the adjustment of National disputes by friendly negotiation rather than by War. The Doctor and Mrs. Lee were indefatigable in their efforts to promote the comfort and happiness of their numerous visitors, a very warm acknowledgement of which was expressed by several gentlemen at the supper table on Thursday Evening, when the proceedings were closed by a social party in the dining room; a general opinion being expressed that the Festival had been, on the whole, the most successful ever held in Hartwell Park.

Strand Office, in favor of JOB CAUDWELL, 335, Talking on Paper has been employed as a

HE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS: Its TWELV

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