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“Why, sir,” exclaimed I, in astonishment, “do you imagine that the
human race will ever so far return on the steps of its past madness
as to weld another sword or cast another cannon?”

“There will be no need,” observed, with a sneer, one who neither
felt benevolence nor had faith in it. “When Cain wished to slay his
brother, he was at no loss for a weapon.”

“We shall see,” replied the veteran commander. “If I am mistaken,
so much the better; but in my opinion, without pretending to
philosophize about the matter, the necessity of war lies far deeper
than these honest gentlemen suppose. What! is there a field for all
the petty disputes of individuals? and shall there be no great law
court for the settlement of national difficulties? The battle-field
is the only court where such suits can be tried.”

“You forget, general,” rejoined I, “that, in this advanced stage of
civilization, Reason and Philanthropy combined will constitute just
such a tribunal as is requisite.”

“Ah, I had forgotten that, indeed!” said the old warrior, as he
limped away.

The fire was now to be replenished with materials that had hitherto
been considered of even greater importance to the well-being of
society than the warlike munitions which we had already seen
consumed. A body of reformers had travelled all over the earth in
quest of the machinery by which the different nations were
accustomed to inflict the punishment of death. A shudder passed
through the multitude as these ghastly emblems were dragged forward.
Even the flames seemed at first to shrink away, displaying the shape
and murderous contrivance of each in a full blaze of light, which of
itself was sufficient to convince mankind of the long and deadly
error of human law. Those old implements of cruelty; those horrible
monsters of mechanism; those inventions which it seemed to demand
something worse than man’s natural heart to contrive, and which had
lurked in the dusky nooks of ancient prisons, the subject of terror-
stricken legend,–were now brought forth to view. Headsmen’s axes,
with the rust of noble and royal blood upon them, and a vast
collection of halters that had choked the breath of plebeian
victims, were thrown in together. A shout greeted the arrival of
the guillotine, which was thrust forward on the same wheels that had
borne it from one to another of the bloodstained streets of Paris.
But the loudest roar of applause went up, telling the distant sky of
the triumph of the earth’s redemption, when the gallows made its
appearance. An ill-looking fellow, however, rushed forward, and,
putting himself in the path of the reformers, bellowed hoarsely, and
fought with brute fury to stay their progress.

It was little matter of surprise, perhaps, that the executioner
should thus do his best to vindicate and uphold the machinery by
which he himself had his livelihood and worthier individuals their
death; but it deserved special note that men of a far different
sphere–even of that consecrated class in whose guardianship the
world is apt to trust its benevolence–were found to take the
hangman’s view of the question.

“Stay, my brethren!” cried one of them. “You are misled by a false
philanthropy; you know not what you do. The gallows is a Heaven-
ordained instrument. Bear it back, then, reverently, and set it up
in its old place, else the world will fall to speedy ruin and
desolation!”

“Onward! onward!” shouted a leader in the reform. “Into the flames
with the accursed instrument of man’s bloody policy! How can human
law inculcate benevolence and love while it persists in setting up the
gallows as its chief symbol? One heave more, good friends, and the
world will be redeemed from its greatest error.”