I shall not expect you in your reading often to penetrate into the
innumerable dusty octavos that contain sermons. The stoutest heart
may fail, without blame, before the flat-footed pedestrianism of these
platitudinous volumes. But there does occasionally arise above the dull
horizon a star whose brilliance is the more conspicuous for the
surrounding gloom.
In 1796, Coleridge, in a letter[1] to a Mr. Flower, who was a publisher
at Cambridge, wrote:--
"I hope Robert Hall is well. Why is he idle? I mean towards the
public. We want such men to rescue this _enlightened age_ from
general irreligion."
I suppose Robert Hall is a name known to but few in these days, but at
the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth centuries
his fame was great and deserved.
As a divine, dowered with the gift of inspired eloquence, Coleridge
estimated his powers as second only to those of Jeremy Taylor. When
Napoleon was at the supreme height of his conquests, and England
alone of European countries still stood erect, uninvaded and
undismayed, a company of soldiers attended Robert Hall's place of
worship on the eve of their departure to Spain. The occasion was
memorable and moving, and the preacher's splendid periods deserve to
be preserved from oblivion:--
"By a series of criminal enterprises, by the successes of guilty
ambition, the liberties of Europe have been gradually
extinguished; the subjugation of Holland, Switzerland, and the
free towns of Germany, has completed that catastrophe; and we are
the only people in the Eastern Hemisphere who are in possession of
equal laws and a free constitution. Freedom, driven from every
spot on the Continent, has sought an asylum in a country which she
always chose for her favorite abode; but she is pursued even here,
and threatened with destruction. The inundations of lawless power,
after covering the whole earth, threaten to follow us here, and
we are most exactly, most critically placed in the only aperture
where it can be successfully repelled, in the Thermopylæ of the
universe.
"As far as the interests of freedom are concerned, the most
important by far of sublunary interests, you, my countrymen, stand
in the capacity of the federal representatives of the human race;
for with you it is to determine (under God) in what condition the
latest posterity shall be born; their fortunes are entrusted to
your care, and on your conduct at this moment depends the colour
and complexion of their destiny. If liberty, after being
extinguished on the Continent, is suffered to expire here, whence
is it ever to emerge in the midst of that thick night that will
invest it?
"It remains with you, then, to decide whether that freedom, at
whose voice the kingdoms of Europe awoke from the sleep of ages to
run a career of virtuous emulation in everything great and good;
the freedom which dispelled the mists of superstition and invited
the nations to behold their God; whose magic touch kindled the
rays of genius, the enthusiasm of poetry, and the flame of
eloquence; the freedom which poured into our lap opulence and
arts, and embellished life with innumerable institutions and
improvements till it became a theatre of wonders; it is for you to
decide whether this freedom shall yet survive, or be covered with
a funeral pall, and wrapt in eternal gloom.
"It is not necessary to await your determination. In the
solicitude you feel to approve yourselves worthy of such a trust,
every thought of what is afflicting in warfare, every apprehension
of danger, must vanish, and you are impatient to mingle in the
battle of the civilised world.
"Go then, ye defenders of your country, accompanied with every
auspicious omen; advance with alacrity into the field, where God
Himself musters the hosts of war. Religion is too much interested
in your success not to lend you her aid; she will shed over this
enterprise her selectest influences. While you are engaged in the
field many will repair to the closet, many to the sanctuary; the
faithful of every name will employ that prayer which has power
with God; the feeble hands which are unequal to any other weapon
will grasp the sword of the Spirit; from myriads of humble,
contrite hearts, the voice of intercession, supplication, and
weeping, will mingle in its ascent to heaven with the shouts of
battle and the shock of arms.
"While you have everything to fear from the success of the enemy,
you have every means of preventing that success, so that it is
next to impossible for victory not to crown your exertions. The
extent of your resources, under God, is equal to the justice of
your cause.
"But should Providence determine otherwise; should you fall in
this struggle, should the nation fall, you will have the
satisfaction (the purest allotted to man) of having performed your
part; your names will be enrolled with the most illustrious dead,
while posterity to the end of time, as often as they revolve the
events of this period (and they will incessantly revolve them)
will turn to you a reverential eye while they mourn over the
freedom which is entombed in your sepulchre.
"I cannot but imagine the virtuous heroes, legislators, and
patriots, of every age and country, are bending from their
elevated seats to witness this contest, as if they were incapable,
till it be brought to a favourable issue, of enjoying their
eternal repose.
"Enjoy that repose, illustrious immortals! Your mantle fell when
you ascended, and thousands inflamed with your spirit, and
impatient to tread in your steps, are ready 'to swear by Him that
sitteth upon the throne and liveth for ever and ever,' they will
protect freedom in her last asylums, and never desert that cause
which you sustained by your labours and cemented with your blood.
"And Thou, Sole Ruler among the children of men, to whom the
shields of the earth belong, 'gird on Thy sword, Thou most
Mighty'; go forth with our hosts in the day of battle! Impart, in
addition to their hereditary valour, that confidence of success
which springs from Thy Presence!
"Pour into their hearts the spirit of departed heroes! Inspire
them with Thine own, and, while led by Thine Hand and fighting
under Thy banners, open Thou their eyes to behold in every valley
and in every plain, what the prophet beheld by the same
illuminations--chariots of fire, and horses of fire!
"Then shall the strong man be as tow, and the maker of it as a
spark; and they shall both burn together, and none shall quench
them."
We, who have just emerged, shattered indeed and reeling, from
another and yet more awful combat for freedom, can the better extend
our sympathy to those forefathers of ours situated in like case, and can
imagine with what beating hearts they must have listened to so
magnificent a call to arms as this; commingling prayer, exhortation,
and benediction.
Napoleon, after all, waged his wars with us according to the laws of
nations, the rules of civilised peoples, and the dictates of decent
humanity. But never since Christianity has been established has one
man committed so dread and awful an accumulation of public iniquities
as stand for ever against the base and cowardly name of William
Hohenzollern, Emperor in Germany. He spat upon the ancient chivalries
of battle; he prostituted the decent amenities of diplomacy; he polluted
with infamy and murder the splendid comradeship of the sea.
When the captain of one of his submarines placed upon his deck the
captured crew of an unarmed merchant vessel which he had sunk,
destroyed their boats, took from them their life-belts, carried them
miles away from any floating wreckage, and then projected them into
the sea to drown, this unspeakable monarch approved the awful deed
and decorated the ruffian for his infamous cruelty.
When gallant Fryatt, fulfilling every duty a captain owes to his unarmed
crew and helpless passengers, turned the bows of his peaceful
packet-boat upon the submarine which was being used to murder them
all in cold blood, he fell into this Kaiser's hands, and the coward
wreaked his vengeance upon nobility that was beyond his
comprehension and valour that rendered him insignificant.
Of these horrible acts the proofs stand unchallenged, and for such
deeds as these the world has cast him out: thrown him down from one
of the greatest thrones in history; and left him in the place to which,
white with terror, he ignominiously fled, stripped of all his power and
splendour, his crowns, his crosses, and his diadems.
Idle is it for this man and his apologists to plead any extenuation or
excuse.
It was his custom in the plenitude of his power to declare himself
answerable for his actions only to God and himself. Then let the
judgment of God be upon him. When we recall the awful and
unnumbered horrors with which he covered Europe, I doubt whether all
history can furnish a parallel to him.
By his authority helpless Belgium was invaded, treaties treacherously
broken, and her people slaughtered. By his authority her priests were
murdered in cold blood and her nuns violated by his vile soldiery. By his
authority poison gases were first projected with low cunning upon brave
and honourable adversaries. By his authority hospital ships at sea were
sent to the bottom.
But time and the might of free nations have, after fearful sufferings,
dissipated his invincible armies, and they have shrivelled before the
wrath of mankind. The whole world rose up in its offended majesty and
tore from him that shining armour of which it was his custom to boast;
and, with the brand of Cain upon him, he now lies obscurely in Holland,
bereft of all the trappings of his sinister power.
There were times in the past when justice would have avenged such
awful crimes as lie at this man's door with the torture of his living body
and the desecration of his lifeless remains, but his conquerors disdained
to debase themselves by imitating his own abominations; and they left
him to afford a spectacle to posterity as the supreme example of
human ignominy!
When you are old, Antony, and this greatest of all wars has become
part of England's history, you will be proud and happy to remember
that your own father, at the first call for volunteers, laid down the
pencil and scale of his peaceful profession, went out to fight for his
country in the trenches in France, was wounded almost to death, and
was saved only by the skill and devotion of one of the greatest
surgeons of the day.[2] All the best blood of England, Scotland, and
Ireland went marching together to defend the freedom of the world,
and upon their hearts were engraven the glorious words:--
"Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth my hands to war
and my fingers to fight."
May such a call never come to our beloved country again! But if it does,
Antony, I know where you will be found without need of exhortations
from me.
Your loving old
G.P.
[Footnote 1: Now in my library.--S.C.]
[Footnote 2: Sir Arbuthnot Lane.]
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