CHAPTER X

DOMINION FROM SEA TO SEA

No part of the Empire rendered the cause of the world's soul in the

world war greater service than Canada. When the clouds of chlorine gas

were let loose it was the Canadians who stopped the gap through which

the torrent of destruction was flowing. And the question the wounded

men gasped out of tortured throats and lungs was not 'Shall I live?'

but 'Did the Huns get through?' In the great host that at last swept

the wolves back to their lair, the Canadians were foremost. 'We pledge

ourselves solemnly before God to keep faith with our fallen comrades,'

wrote General Currie to Sir Robert Borden, and nobly did they fulfil

the pledge. To-day when a citizen of the States begins to demonstrate

how his countrymen won the war, a Canadian produces the official

statistics from his pocket and shows how the ten millions of Canada

gave more of their sons over to death and wounds than the total

casualties of the one hundred and ten millions in the States. And it

is not surprising that Canada should have a clear vision of the ideal

of duty. The very name that their country bears lifts that young

nation into the fellowship of the highest ideal. When a name was

discussed for the new confederation an inspiration came to Sir Leonard

Tilley as he read the eighth verse of the seventy-second psalm: 'He

shall have dominion also from sea to sea, and from the river unto the

ends of the earth,' and on his initiative the name Dominion was

adopted. Not for Canada alone but for the whole Empire that name sets

forth the only ideal. The cry of 'World-dominion or death' can only be

overcome at last by the watchword 'God-dominion and Life.'

I

It is difficult for men to learn the lesson of their own most bitter

experience. Only when the Cross stands far back across the years does

its meaning and purpose faintly gleam on the minds of men. It need be

no matter for surprise that men who did not themselves stand in the

breach of death should be unable to articulate the master-word of the

future. That great word will be--Spirit. What the world gazed on for

four years of woe was the triumph of the spirit. To the men who,

footsore and limping, marched back from Mons, defeat was

incredible--their souls knew not the word. And because victory, even

as they retreated, was in their souls, they swept the enemy back from

the gates of Paris. For four years in mud and misery and defeat the

soul endured and triumphed. It was the greatest of all the soldiers of

France who said to his body as it shrank in his first battle:

'Tremblest thou? If thou knewest the dangers into which I shall this

day carry thee, thou wouldest tremble!' Often and often in these four

years the poor worn suffering body said, 'I have had enough--enough of

mud and vermin--I am fed up; I will do no more,' but when the call of

duty came the soul said to the body, 'I will make you face it, make you

go through with it'; and the soul compelled the body to charge into the

very face of death. It was the spark of the Divine in the soul that

enabled our brothers to conquer the shrinking of flesh and blood and so

to conquer the foe. It is in the measure that armies are souls that

armies conquer. And it has been the same at home in castle and

cot-house. We have but to think of the wives and mothers.

'They let them go forth at the wheels

Of the guns and denied not. But then the surprise

When one sits quiet alone! Then one weeps, then one kneels,

God! how the house feels.'

However deeply the iron pierced, there was never a thought of defeat

being even possible. And when the call came the women toiled in the

factories, and the ammunition dumps were their spirit materialised. At

home and in the battle-line the final destiny of every nation depends

upon the soul.

II

Still more is the mastery of this word apparent when we consider the

future destiny of the world. One result of the world's blood-bath is

that all thoughtful men are asking, How can the world be saved in the

future? And multitudes discuss the way of the world's salvation by a

League of Nations or other method. By parchments and signatures the

world is to be saved! All that is but the folly with which men have

deceived themselves in all ages. The folly is apparent when we ask,

Whence do wars spring? They spring from greed and lust and

ambition--from the life surrendered to evil. We speak of the horror of

war; what we should speak of is the horror of wickedness. For war is

only a symptom, not the disease. What all these weary discussions

about 'Leagues to make an end of war,' and the new watchword 'No more

war,' aim at is the doing away with the symptom--leaving the disease to

run its deadly course. To suppress symptoms without removal of the

hidden cause is the way of death. What the nations must face is the

disease and its healing!

It is with nations as with individuals! How can a man protect himself

against a thief. He can do it in three ways. He may (1) use force; or

(2) he may make an agreement with the thief--enter into a treaty with

him; or (3) he may endeavour to reform the thief. The first method is

militarism and, whether in the form of armies or policemen, is costly

and uncertain. The second only protects so long as the thief finds it

convenient or in his own interest to keep it. Neither a burglar nor a

robber-state can be warded off by treaties. The third alone provides a

certain protection; the only safety is that the thief experience a

change of spirit--be, in short, converted. 'Admirable,' said Cardinal

Fleury, when a scheme for 'perpetual peace' was submitted to him;

'admirable, save for one omission--I find no provision for sending

missionaries to convert the hearts of princes.' The day of princes is

over, and the day of democracy has come. The first requisite of

perpetual peace is that the nations of the world experience a change of

heart and spirit--should repent. But in all the schemes for ending war

there is no suggestion of sending missionaries to convert the world's

democracies. France has 'extinguished the lights of heaven which none

shall rekindle'; England, if the number of worshippers in the churches

be any gauge, is rapidly sinking back into paganism; and across the

Atlantic the United States is resolved to live unto itself alone,

separating itself from the perishing nations; while on the Continent of

Europe there is but one ritual: 'We did no wrong: we did not begin the

war.' Missionaries to convert the democracies of the world--they are

needed in legions. But such a need is not in all the thoughts of the

orators. They can only think of forming leagues to abolish the

vultures that swoop down on the carcases. They cannot realise that the

only way to make an end of the swooping vulture is to make an end of

carcases. Unless the world experiences a spiritual and moral renewal,

any league that would secure it peace in the midst of its depravity

would only secure its moral doom. It is manifest then that the only

way to abolish war is to bring the body into subjection to the spirit.

The way of salvation is the way of spiritual renewal. Love does not

kill or poison, and humanity's feet need to be guided into the way of

love. Along that road there is but the one guide: He who said 'I am

the way.... Love as I have loved you.' The measure of that love is

the Cross. And that is why the way to salvation leads through

Calvary.... Peace will only come when the kingdoms of this world shall

submit to that kingdom of the soul whose dominion is from sea to sea.

'I find a hundred little indications to reassure one that God comes,'

writes H. G. Wells. 'The time draws near when mankind will awake ...

and there shall be ... no leader but the one God of mankind.' But

though Mr. Wells writes sentences so vital as that, yet when one asks

him what God is--he is silent. Is He holy and righteous? Though Mr.

Wells' God is but an abstraction, yet the truth remains. The coming of

the Kingdom of God is the one hope of mankind--that Kingdom which Jesus

preached. And the entrance into that Kingdom is by way of repentance

and love and faith. When the soul of the world awakes to that, the day

of deliverance shall have dawned.

III

This, then, must be the goal of human effort, to bring the nations of

the world into such a unity of spirit that war will no longer be

thinkable. But we, as a nation, can only do this if we ourselves bring

our lives into conformity with the laws of righteousness. It is

manifest that no amount of oratory will enable us to raise the world to

any higher level than we have attained ourselves.

The first duty, then, is to see that we base our own lives on

righteousness. The problem is how to bring to bear on the human heart

those motives that will move it irresistibly towards righteousness.

That road is not easy to travel and the choice of it means effort and

travail. It means a battle against selfishness and self-seeking--a

battle long-drawn-out. Why should men choose that conflict rather than

ease and self-indulgence? There can be no reason save this: that God

wills and enjoins righteousness. But does He? We know very little

about God, and the strange thing is that the more knowledge that comes

to us regarding Him, the more mysterious He becomes. But there is one

thing that we do know with absolute certainty regarding God, and it is

this--that all down the thousands of years of recorded history the

power of the Unseen Ruler of the universe can be traced fighting

against iniquity, burying corrupt nations under the avalanche, digging

the grave for tyranny and corruption. The history of the world is the

history of God making an end of crime. The way to destruction has been

the way of iniquity. That God should have so ordered the universe that

the stars in their courses fight against the Siseras, that all its

forces are at last arrayed for the destruction of evil, is the proof

that God is righteous and holy and that the passion in His heart is

that His children should be righteous and holy. The world, as God

means it, is the school for the training of men and women in

goodness--and so in the image of God.... It is only the call of the

Unseen Ruler as He summons His children to bring their lives into

unison with Himself, that can turn the feet into the way of

righteousness. There is no impelling force equal to the choice of good

rather than evil except this--that God wills goodness. No other motive

save that can turn the faces of men towards the heights.

IV

The greatest of all questions then is this--how most efficiently to

bring that motive to bear upon the nation. It is in the early and

plastic years that the destiny of individuals is fixed. If anywhere,

it is in our schools that our children shall learn the things out of

which are the issues of life and death. What atmosphere shall we

surround our children with in our schools? is the supreme question.

'To educate without religion is only to produce clever devils,'

declared the Duke of Wellington in his downright way. And as a nation

we have made sure of everything being taught--except religion. No

government-inspector ever asks about it!

What a waste it all is and what a travesty--this pumping of facts and

figures into the weary, jaded brains of little children. Only five per

cent. or so of the people are capable of benefiting by a long process

of education--yet everybody must be confined in dreary barracks from

five to fifteen years, learning things that will never be of use and

are straightway forgotten. We ordained that all the children should be

taught, but in our usual blundering fashion we never settled what we

should teach them. The child looks out on a world of wonder, and

proves its wisdom by peopling every grove and every hill with fairies.

For the child the world is spiritual. And it comes to us and asks how

came it and why came it? But our legislators decreed that, so far as

they were concerned, the child should be taught geography and the names

of rivers and hills, but not about the God who made the rivers and

hills and the world; botany, but not about the God who made the grass

and the flowers; physiology, but not about the God who fashioned man;

dates of kings and of battles, but not about the God whose providence

is written over all history; about laws, but not about the Source of

all law--the divine commands that regulate human action. The only part

of man that the educators considered was the brain. If they

intellectualised the race they deemed that the millennium would come.

They did it. But the millennium is further off than ever. They caused

all the people to go through the mills where knowledge was ground out;

they learned to read and write. The only consequence was that they

became the victims of every charlatan. They turned their arithmetic

into roguery and their literature into lust. They became the victims

of the gamblers and the betting touts. They pursued the missing words

and became the disciples of demagogues. And salvation has tarried

though the brain has been nurtured. Yes! there has come a vast

progress! London in the next war can be completely destroyed by

spraying it with gas bombs--in eight hours! Education, with God left

out, will, then, have come to its fruition!

V

National education will only become a means of deliverance from evil

when our schools shall have been transformed into the nurseries of

goodness. For after all, what we need is good men and women. Clever

men are as common as berries; what the world cries for is men who can

be trusted, men whose motive will be the welfare of others and not

their own. 'His fame was immense,' was the verdict on a Roman patriot;

'his private property was so scanty that there was not enough to pay

the expenses of his funeral. He was buried at the public cost. The

matrons mourned him as they mourned Brutus.' Ah! the terrible thing is

not to die poor but to die with a character no man honours. To train

our children to love and desire goodness is our need. The history of

the ages is the proof that goodness cannot flourish apart from

religion. And the Bible tells the story of the dealing of God with

men--of the evolution of religion. It is that which constitutes the

supreme value of the book.

But no book has suffered more at the hands of its friends than has the

Bible. The Bible is an Eastern book, and it is filled with glowing

metaphors and parables. Dull, unimaginative Western minds said: 'These

are literally true, and unless you believe them so you are lost.' The

writer of the beautiful book of Jonah wrote a story rebuking the narrow

spirit of the Jews, and his book has become the citadel of all the

narrow souls who see nothing in it but the whale. Children should be

taught that science and religion cannot contradict each other, because

they both are revelations of the one God; that the Bible is full of

poetry and parables which the writers never meant that any should

mistake for treatises; that the slaughter of the Canaanites and the

psalms of cursing are no more of the essence of religion, than the

Stuart tyranny the essence of Scotland; that the serpent in the garden

and Jonah in the whale are parables; that religion, in short, is a

flowing and deepening river and not a stagnant pool. But religion as

too often taught in our schools is only the teaching of things which

the growing boy discovers to be untrue. So far from doing good, it is

the destruction of religion.

When the Bible is taught as the record of the evolution of the

revelation of God, it will move the hearts of men towards goodness

while time endures, for it enshrines the figure of Him who based a

Kingdom on love and meekness--a Kingdom that endures for ever, because

no guns can fight against a Spirit, nor any frontiers bar it. The

education that has not this as its base may produce the chlorine

gas--but it will never produce that goodness which alone maketh great.

But the course is so crowded that something must be jettisoned. And as

inspectors take no note of religion--let it be thrown overboard. Its

total omission in Secondary Schools is declared necessary, because the

syllabus is too crowded already! It is as if a man having a ship laden

with dross were offered some nuggets of fine gold and answered, 'My

ship is overloaded already, I cannot take more.' But he wouldn't be

such a fool. He would throw everything overboard, if need be, to make

room!

VI

In the last year of the Great War a new Education Bill was passed for

the Northern Kingdom, and provision was made for everything but the

teaching of religion. At every election the voters who desire that

religion be continued must have another spell of sentry-go to secure

it--all except Roman Catholics and Episcopalians! Truly we are of the

race of the Bourbons. The expense of teaching has been trebled; the

futility of what is taught remains as before. I heard the Chairman of

an Education Authority being asked whether provision was made in the

schools for teaching the children the scientific facts about alcohol.

He replied that the syllabus was too crowded already! Alcohol has

claimed more victims from humanity than all the wars and famines of all

the centuries; and yet our children were not to be taught the truth

about it because the syllabus was so crowded! What is it they teach

that could compare in value with the truths of temperance and

self-discipline? Through a course of training so expensive that the

countryside is well-nigh bankrupt because of its cost, the children

pass and they go forth into the world unwarned of the rocks and shoals

on which the millions have perished.... That, at this time of day, we

should shut the doors of our schools against the knowledge of God, in

whose love alone men can find their healing, and against the teaching

of truth and temperance, which alone can make children grow in

character and goodness, seems possible only on the supposition that we

have been bereft of our judgment. 'If they do abolish God from their

poor bewildered hearts,' said Carlyle, 'all or most of them, there will

be seen for some length of time, perhaps for some centuries, such a

world as few are dreaming of.'

Victory out of Ruin · 第 10 / 13 章