The French priest of Mars, who proclaimed the "divinity" of War, rivals the ancient Germans in faith that God is the tutelary guardian of battle, and he finds a new title, which he says "shines" on all the pages of Scripture, being none other than _God of Armies_.[60] Never was greater mistake. No theology, no theodicy, has ever attributed to God this title. God is God of Heaven, God of Hosts, the Living God, and he is God of Peace,--so called by St. Paul, saying, "Now the God of Peace be with you all,"[61] and again, "The God of Peace shall bruise Satan shortly,"[62]--but God of Armies he is not, as he is not God of Battles.[63] The title, whether of Armies or of Hosts, thus invoked for War, has an opposite import, even angelic,--the armies named being simply, according to authorities Ecclesiastical and Rabbinical, the hosts of angels standing about the throne. Who, then, is God of Battles? It is Mars,--man-slaying, blood-polluted, city-smiting Mars![64] It is not He who binds the sweet influences of the Pleiades and looses the bands of Orion, who causes the sun to shine on the evil and the good, who distils the oil of gladness upon every upright heart, who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,--the Fountain of Mercy and Goodness, the God of Justice and Love. Mars is not the God of Christians; he is not Our Father in Heaven; to him can ascend no prayers of Christian thanksgiving, no words of Christian worship, no pealing anthem to swell the note of praise. [60] Joseph de Maistre, Soirées de Saint-Pétersbourg, Tom. II. p. 27. [61] Romans, xv. 33. [62] Ibid., xvi. 20. [63] A volume so common as Cruden's Concordance shows the audacity of the martial claim. [64] Iliad, V. 31. And yet Christ and Mars are still brought into fellowship, even interchanging pulpits. What a picture of contrasts! A national ship of the line now floats in this harbor. Many of you have pressed its deck, and observed with admiration the completeness which prevails in all its parts,--its lithe masts and complex network of ropes,--its thick wooden walls, within which are more than the soldiers of Ulysses,--its strong defences, and its numerous dread and rude-throated engines of War. There, each Sabbath, amidst this armament of blood, while the wave comes gently plashing against the frowning sides, from a pulpit supported by a cannon, in repose now, but ready to awake its dormant thunder charged with death, a Christian preacher addresses officers and crew. May his instructions carry strength and succor to their souls! But, in such a place, those highest words of the Master he professes, "Blessed are the peacemakers," "Love your enemies," "Resist not evil," must, like Macbeth's "Amen," stick in the throat. It will not be doubted that this strange and unblessed conjunction of the Church with War has no little influence in blinding the world to the truth, too slowly recognized, that the whole custom of war _is contrary to Christianity_.