The Gun or the Gospel
Not long ago we went to look at Waterloo — and Waterloo looked at iis. Like most of the storied places which we have chanced to visit, he seemed to remember all about himself, and told us a deeper tale than the old sergeant who acted as our guide and his interpreter. We found him nearly recovered from the rough usage of the famous conflict. His right arm, the scorched and battered Hougomont, he still carries in a sling; and a huge excrescence has grown up where the shots fell thickest; while solemn monuments are the scars which cover many a casualty On the whole, however, the veteran wore a placid aspect. His crops were in good condition, and he had lately taken to the bleaching trade; and though one of our party was hunting a rare butterfly on the very mount of the Bolgic lion, lie did not re?ent the levity. Even Waterloo, though pensively, appeared to share the spirit of the age, and gave his vote for traffic, peace, and progress.
And since that day, in quiet hours, the old Battlefield will often come to us and talk to us. And, reader, we shall confide to thee some lessons which the gray warrior has whispered in our inward ear.
Sometimes he says, “Be thankful, h was no common fight: it was not a play of arms; it was not the old tournay betwixt France and England, with a little glory for the prize. But it was an Armageddon. It was a battle betwixt freedom and brute force — betwixt the soul of man and military despotism, — and a battle of most anxious issue. In men and guns, the oppressor was much the strongest. His troops spoke one language, were moved by one intelligence, and, familiar with victory, they were this time flushed with vindictive fury. The allies came from all countries. As he marched beneath the beech-trees of Soignies, or rose from his rainy bivouac that morning, many a soldier felt for the first time that he was about to stand, front to front, with death; and even the bravest were taken aback by the enemy’s rapid arrival. And had some little move been different — had not heavier metal been introduced into the British artillery — had the Belgian panic spread — had the frail defence of Hougomont yielded — had Napoleon not wavered at a critical conjuncture — had the English guards failed to repel the charge of his veterans — or had the Prussians been a little later in coming, — the story of the world might have bounded back a hundred years, and, like another Sisyphus, weary Europe would have beerl constrained to moil up hill once more the stone which bluff Harry and grand Louis had twice before rolled down. But the Lord on high controlled it all. He gave t|>e timely valor; he brought the seasonable succor; he prompted the previous plans, and crowned them with prosperity; he toned the nerves on which freedom hung; and when a few miles and a single day were all that intervened betwixt Europe and an age of steel, he smote the spoiler, and gave the nations what they never knew before — a generation of peace and improvement; an era of busy enterprise and bloodless industry, an age of intelligence, and liberty, and lofty aspirations.”
Sometimes, in accents more subdued, our oracle will say,” Be thankful, for war is fearful work. You are a youngster, and have forgotten it, and it is easy for you to sit under your fig-tree, and read it in Alison or Siborne; but you can never realize it. That morning, the people at home rose from pleasant slumber, and little knew what thousands, over-night, could boast no better bed than the flooded fields of Mont St. Jean. And when the village bells were sprinkling sabbath music over all the land, and the psalm of praise pealed high, they did not hear the death-shots rattle and the murdering cannons roar. And when the Sunday-schools were met, and family groups repeated hymns and read the word of God together, they were not startled by the noise as bombs exploded, and frantic squadrons swooped at one another in trampling thunder. And when Highland cottagers knelt down for evening worship, and London streets were brightly filled from closing sanctuaries, none knew that their fathers and brothers strewed the turf where the tide of battle had receded, and left behind its wreck of surging agony. Distance of place made people unconscious, and therefore callous, then; distance of time makes you almost as unconscious and as callous now. But, trust me, war is ghastly work, and I never shall forget that night of horrors. I can not forget the shudder of mother Earth as her dying children tossed upon her bosom, and how timidly from among the clouds the moon peeped forth on miles of slain. I can not forget the
527387B moans, and blasphemies, and prayers. 1 can not forget how the stalwart grenadier would spurn the sod, and grasp the clay in his terrible death-struggle; and how softly the warm blood flowed through the broidered vest of the gallant youth, till England and his sisters stood before his eyes, and melted into his swooning sleep.* And, sooth to. say, broad-cast with orphanage and widowhood as that evening left my acres, it was long before I felt the pride of glorious victory.” But lately our mystic visiter came to us in more cheerful mood. It was a sabbath morning, and the ISth of June in the bygone summer; and along with the dim light the wraith of Waterloo stole into our chamber. ‘’ I wish you joy,” said the vision;” a new thing in the earth! Europe completes this day a generation of
Those who would like to know how it fares with the woundeJ soldier on the field of battle, may read the narrative of Colonel Ponsonhy as given in Glcig’s story of Waterloo. It is too long for transcription here; but Mr. Gilbert has told most of it in the sketch which precedes this paper.
repose! Britain has kept peace for three and thirty years! To you and your coevals the lines have fallen in pleasant places; and for your lot in this wealthiest and happiest of all times, you can not thank enough the Prince of Peace. Diluted and indirect, there is a gospel in this age; and if you can get the ear of any of your countrymen, go and tell them the blessings of this long tranquillity. And go and tell them about that gospel, which, did the world embrace, it would never need another Waterloo.”
Fain would we tell them; but in a short paper like this, we have only room for hints.
1. One most obvious advantage of peace is the occupation which it gives to industry. In time of war, markets are shut, and seas are dangerous. Looking on Britain as one huge factory — a factory which is willing to spin and weave for all the world, it is plain that a declaration of hostilities is the same thing as the closing of many markets. Nations against whom Britain is in arms, refuse to take her goods; and though neutral or friendly nations may still be willing to take them, they can not so easily get them. The path of the ocean is infested by privateers and ships-of-war; and the expense of transport is terribly enhanced by the augmented rates of insurance, and by long detentions in waiting for a convoy; so that while the manufacturer loses one customer by losing the hostile nation, in consequence of the higher price of his commodities, the customer whom he keeps can only buy a smaller share. For instance, in the last year of the war, in 1814, there were exported from this country six thousand tons of hardware and cutlery; but in ten years of peace, the quantity had doubled, and in twenty years had nearly trebled.* In ISOl, there were consumed
The exact numbers were: — In 1814 .... 6,162 tons.
“1824 12,285”
1834 .... 16,275”
Porter’s” Progress of the Nation.** in the cotton manufactures of this empire about fifty millions of pounds of the raw material, and this quantity continued nearly stationary till the close of the war. But, five years after the restoration of peace, the consumption had trebled; in ten years it was quadruple; in twenty it had increased sixfold; and m thirty years, it was twelve times as great as it had been from the commencement to the close of hostilities.*
In other words, since peace was established, employment has multiplied threefold or fourfold for the workmen of Birmingham and Sheffield; and for the spinners of Glasgow and Manchester, in a ratio of twelve to one.
2. And while the operatives of this coun-
* The consumption of cotton in the mills of Britain
was as follows: —
1801.... 54,203,433 lbs.
1814 53,777,802
1820 .... 152,829,633
1825 202,546,809
1835 .... 333,043,464
1845 592,581,600”
The last year is derived from Du Fay and Co.’s Trade
Report i the rest from Porter.
try have been thus contributing to the comfort of the human brotherhood, supplying scissors, knives, and fowling-pieces, to the Indian hunter and the African villager, and apparel to all the world, the recompense has come back into their own wardrobe and cupboard, and the modern mechanic has become a far wealthier man than his forefather was. The twenty million pounds’ worth of cotton goods which we annually ship for other shores, and the corresponding productions of other sorts, return in commodities good for food and pleasant to the eye. And though an English laborer may earn no more shillings in a week than he could have earned thirty years ago, these shillings will procure comforts and accommodations now which they could not have compassed then. And I need not say that wealth lies not in the shilling, but in the shilling’s worth — not in the quantity of coin which a man possesses, but in the amount of commodities which, at a given time and place, that coin will procure.
Applying this test of opulence, we may thankfully conclude, that amid all its remaining privations, British industry is better conditioned now than it has ever been; and we may trust that, with peace among the nations, and with sobriety and self-control among the citizens, the standard of comfort will steadily ascend.
To make the improvement palpable, we might appeal to the better clothing of the artisan and of his wife and children. And we might refer to the better furniture of his abode. But we select an instance in those articles which were once the luxury of the rich, but are now, to some extent, the privilege of all. In 1814, there were imported, for Britain’s home consumption, 19,224,154 lbs. of tea. In 1846, the import had mounted to 47,500,000 lbs. That is, in the former year, each inhabitant of the United Kingdom consumed a pound of tea; in the latter year, there was an allowance to each of one pound ten ounces. In 1814, there were imported about 6,000,-
000 lbs. of coffee. In 1S4G, the import of coffee for domestic use had risen to 3G,- 781,391 lbs. That is, there was, in the rormer year, an allowance of five ounces, or thereby, and in the latter, nearly a pound and a quarter to each inhabitant of Great Britain and Ireland.* In 1814 there were imported 223,775,888 lbs. of sugar. In 1846 there were entered for consumption 547.292,816 lbs. That is, assuming the population of Great Britain and Ireland as eighteen millions at the former period and thirty millions at the latter, we have, at the earlier date, twelve pounds of sugar for each inhabitant, and at the later period, eighteen pounds. t And what renders this
•To which may be added 3,000,000 lbs. of cocoa in 1846 against nothing in 1814.
fThe above calculations arc founded on statements contained in the house of commons’ report on commercial relations with China (1847); reports of meetings at Liverpool on the tea duties; M’Culloch’s Dictionary of Commerce; the last edition of the EncvcIopa;dia Britannica; the trade circulars of Messrs, T. and H. Littledale, of Liverpool, and Messrs. Ripley, Brown, & Co., of London; along with items of information obligingly communicated by personal friends.
progress peculiarly cheering, is the assura;ice that it is mainly a progress among the working-classes. The wealthier members of the community consume no more at present than they did forty years ago, for even when the article was dearest they used as much as they required. Oiher people only use as much as they can afford; and though we wish they could afford a great deal more, we are glad to find that the mass of the population can now command these healthful and innocent enjoyments to an extent which no other nation knows, and which, to our frugal fathers would have looked like dangerous luxury.
3. But there is another way in which the commonwealth has profited by peace. It has let loose much of the capital, and all the mind and soul which were formerly locked up in the sreat business of fio-htinof. By its constant demands, war drains the wealth of a kingdom, and instead of spe iding his money in building mills, or improving waste lands, the capitalist is obliged to pay some of it into the exchequer in the shape of positive taxes, and is tempted. to pay over the remainder in the shape of lucrative loans. And even though taxation did not rise, and though the capitalist continued as wealthy as before, war makes him timid and retentive; afraid to launch a ship to-day which may be captured to-morrow; afraid to build a factory this autumn, which the torch of the invader may reduce to ashes next spring; afraid to commence some costly process of production, when the market for which he designed it may be shut in a moment, and remain hermetically closed for years to come. But encouraged by protracted peace, the capital of England has waxed courageous and conr fident, and has given to the workingmen of these kingdoms an extent and continuance of employment without a parallel in modern story.
Vnd peace has set free, for the purposes of human improvement, that large amount of intelligence which war, the monster-monopollst, absorbed into itself. In the fighting times the engineer exerted his skill to invent new implements of destruction, and was mighty in catamarans, and rocket-tubes, and martello-towers; and incandescent with phosphorus and sulphur, the patriotic chymist exercised himself in cheapening gunpowder, and discovering Greek fire. The two ventricles of the nation’s heart were the horse-guards and the admiralty, and all thought and interest, the nation’s very life, flowed through them. And though sometimes a gentle spirit hinted a mitigation of the criminal code, or a concession to some overburdened class, the rebuffs which he perpetually encountered taught him that he was born before the time. But, when peace arrived, the volunteer beat his sword into a ploughshare, and the soldier became philanthropist. It was no longer needful for the mind of the nation to deposite its first-fruits on the altar of IVLoloch; but, without impeachment of his loyalty, the mechanist, and statesman, and the lover of his species, might devote his energies to useful inventions and civic reforms, and all those benevolent labors which tend to make a bad world better.
We can not recount all the discoveries of this peaceful age, from a lucifer-match up to a railroad, and from a steamship down to a pair of gutta-percha goloshes. But these discoveries have made the modern laborer a mightier man than an ancient lord. Just look at your lot, and wonder at your wealth. There was your worthy father — when he wanted to be up betimes, he lost half the night listening to the village clock, and starting up at all the hours except the right one; and when at last, a trifle late, he jumped out of bed, and got hold of the tinder-box, after ten minutes’ practice with the flint and steel, heated but not enlightened, through sleet and slush he had to seek his neighbor’s door, and borrow a burning brand. But soundly reposing all the night, and by an alarum roused at the appointed minute, you rasp the ready match
across the sanded surface, and turn the stopcock of the magic tube, and in a moment are surrounded by an affluence of the purest light. It was in the Brighton van that your father travelled, that hard season when he visited the coast in search of work, and he never got the better of the long, bleak journey. But for your own diversion you took the trip the other day. You went in the morning and returned at night, and it cost you neither cough nor rheumatism, and less money altogether than you would have paid for one night’s jolting in the frosty van. When the last letter came from your poor brother in the north — penny stamps were not invented then — and you remember how rueful you felt, as the postman refused to leave the precious packet, for you had not in all the house a shilling and threepence halfpenny. And when your uncle broke his leg, and the bungling surgeon set it so badly, that it had to be broken and set anew, after all his torture he never got full use of it again. But when you put out your shoulder-blade, you can not tell how they set it to rights; for all your remembrance is, the doctor holding some fragrant essence to your nostrils, and when you awoke from a pleasant trance, the arm was supple, and you yourself all straight and trim.
To peace we are indebted for cities lit with gas, and rivers alive with steam. To peace we owe the locomotive and the telegraph, which have made the British towns one capital, and remotest provinces the enclosing park. To peace our thanks are due for food without restriction, and intercourse without expense; for journeys without fatigue, and operations without pain; cheap correspondence and cheap corn; railway cars and chloroform. And to the same bounteous source — or rather to the Giver of peace, and of every perfect gift — we stand beholden for the hundred expedients which now combine to make life longer and more happy.
But far better than such material boons are the social and moral blessings which have followed in the train of peace. It has given us leisure to review our position, and has not only revealed, but remedied some of its worst evils. It has enabled us to emancipate our slaves, and it has shortened the hours of factory labor. It has so enlaroed the franchise that no frus-al citizen need despair of attaining it; and it has given to public opinion a legislative power which it never knew before. It has revised our criminal jurisprudence, and has expunged from the statute-book the greater number of its sanguinary laws. And it has lately been turning a benevolent eye toward the abodes and occupations of the poor, and has sought to give the sons of toil cheerful amusements and salubrious dwellings. And by removing taxes on knowledge, and by improvements in printing, it has made the newspaper a familiar visiter of cottages, and has rendered bibles and other books as cheap as loaves of bread. When the New Zealand chief was going to war, and the missionary remonstrated, he exclaimed: “But what shall I do with my barrels of gunpowder?” So might Britain have remonstrated, could any one have warned her that there was to be no more fighting for thirty successive years. ‘* What will become of all our energies? our combativeness and enterprise, and love of adventure? and all the heroic ingredients of our national character? We must have a battle, though it were only to keep so much good gunpowder from spoiling.” But God himself has found another outlet for these energies; and it is with God’s own enemy and man’s — it is with moral evil — that the great battle is now begun. Fighting on the field of foreign heathenism and home-bred depravity, every teacher of a ragged school or a Sunday class, every faithful superintendent of a penitentiary or a convict-ship, and every earnest minister or missionary is a soldier; and every outcast reclaimed, every child instructed, and every human being won over to the cause of piety and virtue, is another victory. This is the great contest of our age; and in this bloodless battle we long to see enlisted all the chivalry and prowess of our Anglo-Saxon world. We long to see a holy war in which men shall fight with their own bad passions, and shall seek to demolish nothing, except those works of the devil which the Son of God came to destroy. We long to see a campaign, not of race against race, nor of class against class; but a crusade of all races and all classes against whatever is ungodly and selfish here below. We long to see — precursor of the Prince of peace — a war in which the Bible shall be the standard, and Christianity the uniform; in which the gospel or love divine shall be the only weapon, and sin the only enemy; a war in which the watchword and the rallying cry shall be, “Glory to God in the highest; on earth peace, good-will toward man.”*
* To show how extensively the evangelical spirit has spread, and how greatly Christian philanthropy has And now that it is done, do you ask the
purpose of iliis paper “? It is, first of all, to
make the reader and the writer thankful.
It is, to make more vivid to our minds
God’s goodness in casting our lot on this
tranquil time.
strengthened during these peaceful years, we might refer to the statistics of any religious society. For instance, in 1814, the Bible society had a revenue of 87,216/., and issued 352,569 copies of the Scriptures; but in the year ending March, 1847. its income was 117,440/., and its issues were 1,419,283 copies. And the following table, from returns kindly furnished by the secretaries, shows the relative income and missionary staff of the four leading societies: —
NUMBER OF
INCOME.
MISSIOXARIES.
Church of )
England )
1814. 1 1847.
1814.
1847.
10,788/. 101,2947.
180a,
Wesleyan..
9,554 103,619
London...
19,429 76,319
165A
Baptist....
7,000 25,000
70c
To which may be added the many societies which had no existence at the earlier period. It is only five years since the Free Church of Scotland became a distinct community, and in that time it has contributed for Christian purposes upward of a million and a half of money.
a Besides 1298 country-born and native teachers.
b Besides 700 teachers.
e Besides 159 teachers.
And we have written with a view to perpetuate the blessing* We confess a desire for the spread of pacific principles; and we would urge their importance on that class of the community who, if not the greatest gainers in peace, are the first and the sorest sufferers in war.
But what can a working man contribute toward the grand result of “peace on earth”? He can contribute to society one peaceful citizen. Forming his own opinions and holding his own convictions, he can lay down and carry out the rule of leaving truth to fight its own battle. He can foster in his children habits of magnanimity and mutual forbearance, and can teach them that “greater is he who ruleth his spirit than he who taketh a city.” He can exhibit that brightest heroism which retaliates evil with good; and he may do his endeavor to spread that gospel which is the grand peacemaker. And looking forward to the day when the weapons of the warrior, like the engines of the inquisitor, shall only survive on the shelves of the museum, as relics of a fearful barbarism, he may even now, by his practical suffrage, recognise the majesty of mind and the meanness of physical force.
And he can teach his fellow-workmen the more excellent way for obtaining their just demands. Break the head of a burgess or yeoman, and however liberal his former leanings, you make him at once an enemy of the popular cause; burn a cotton-mill, and, by raising the rates of insurance and ruinino confidence — confidence in the good-sense and forbearance of the English people — you make the owner hesitate whether he will build another; burn a second, and the owner does not hesitate, but at once withdraws to safer reirions his capital and his family, and leaves to lasting misery some hundreds of your fellows; burn a dozen, and Lancashire will soon be a Saxon Tipperary, with no smoking chimneys to deface the landscape, nor any factory bell to disturb the ragged holyday; but, unlike the Celtic Tipperary, without a market for its pigs, and when potatoes rot, without a hard-working neighbor to send it beef and bread. But let the industrious classes advance in education and principle, and there is no political privilege which they need despair of attaining, nor any which a right-hearted citizen would grudge to share with them. The working-classes will find their most eloquent argument, as well as their most efiective armor, in their own worth and intelligence.
And every laborer who, in the manifesto of Messiah the prince, has read that golden sentence, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God,” may pray, “O, Prince of peace, thy kingdom come — thy kingdom of righteousness, and peace, and joy.” He may pray for the quick arrival of that time when, beneath the Saviour’s benignant sceptre, the Bible shall supplant the baton, and the gospel shall silence the gun; and joined in cordial brotherhood, the sons of Adam shall again behold this earth a happy home!