ason the Spartans _sacrificed to the Muses_ before an action;
these goddesses being expected to produce regularity and order in
battle; as they _sacrificed on the same occasion in Crete to the god of
love_, as the confirmer of mutual esteem and shame. Every man put on a
crown, when the band of flute-players gave the signal for attack; all
the shields of the line glittered with their high polish, and mingled
their splendour with the dark red of the purple mantles, which were
meant both to adorn the combatant, and to conceal the blood of the
wounded; to fall well and decorously being an incentive the more to the
most heroic valour. The conduct of the Spartans in battle denotes a high
and noble disposition, which rejected all the extremes of brutal rage.
The pursuit of the enemy ceased when the victory was completed; and
after the signal for retreat had been given, all hostilities ceased. The
spoiling of arms, at least during the battle, was also interdicted; and
the consecration of the spoils of slain enemies to the gods, as, in
general, all rejoicings for victory, were considered as ill-omened.

Such was the war of the greatest soldiers who prayed to heathen gods.
What Christian war is, preached by Christian ministers, let any one tell
you, who saw the sacred crowning, and heard the sacred flute-playing,
and was inspired and sanctified by the divinely-measured and musical
language, of any North American regiment preparing for its charge. And
what is the relative cost of life in pagan and Christian wars, let this
one fact tell you:--the Spartans won the decisive battle of Corinth with
the loss of eight men; the victors at indecisive Gettysburg confess to
the loss of 30,000.

II. I pass now to our second order of war, the commonest among men, that
undertaken in desire of dominion. And let me ask you to think for a few
moments what the real meaning of this desire of dominion is--first in
the minds of kings--then in that of nations.

Now, mind you this first,--that I speak either about kings, or masses of
men, with a fixed conviction that human nature is a noble and beautiful
thing; not a foul nor a base thing. All the sin of men I esteem as their
disease, not their nature; as a folly which may be prevented, not a
necessity which must be accepted. And my wonder, even when things are at
their worst, is always at the height which this human nature can attain.
Thinking it high, I find it always a higher thing than I thought