1. The end of war is not to come through culture or progress in civilization. That hope has been too often disappointed. When the Exhibition of 1851 was opened in Hyde Park, “we were supposed,” says Froude, “to be standing on the threshold of a new era. Commerce and free trade were to work a revolution which Christianity had tried to produce, and failed. War was to be at an end for ever, and the inhabitants of the earth were to compete thenceforward only in the arts of peace. The world smiled kindly on our enthusiasm, or seemed to share our expectations. When the first successful cable was laid across the Atlantic the single message which it bore from Washington to England was ‘Peace on earth, and good-will towards men.’ The peace proved a cycle of storms which in one quarter or another have raged since scarcely with intermission, and, though at home our streak of sea has stood our friend, we have borne our share already in the East, and danger may very easily come to seek us at our own doors without our going out of the way to look for it.” [Note: J. A. Froude, Short Studies on Great Subjects, ii. 480.]
In July 1914 there was a general belief in England and America that war had become an anachronism; that, though it might survive among half-civilized and decadent peoples, it could no longer occur amongst the most highly developed nations. It seemed impossible that there should be such an outrage on civilization. On the one side, humanitarian sentiment was likely to prevent an outbreak of war, with all the misery it entails; on the other, the interests of the nations of the world were so interdependent that it seemed unlikely that any could gain by means of war. But events have proved that the hopes which were so generally entertained were baseless; a nation distinguished for scientific culture and for effective organization forced on a war, and horrors which were looked upon as a thing of the past were let loose on a larger scale than ever before. Pacificism, which professed to be the last result of scientific sociology, has been discredited as impracticable in Europe, since events have proved the ineffectiveness of humanitarian sentiment and prudential calculation to prevent an appeal to arms.
The experiences through which we have since passed have revealed the insecurity of the foundations on which Western civilization rests. That civilization is wider in extent, far more complex and closely knit, than any that history has to show. Its ramifications are so far-reaching and the interdependence of its parts so complete that its dissolution would cause untold suffering and loss. Yet it is doubtful whether it has enough moral strength to hold together. Its cohesion is gravely endangered. The war is a reminder that a civilization based on materialism and selfishness must in the end compass its own destruction. The awful sufferings through which Europe has had to pass are evidence that the world is a moral order. They proclaim anew the law which the Christian Scriptures assert from beginning to end, that “Sin, when it is full-grown, bringeth forth death” (Jam_1:15).
Whom do you blame, brothers? Bow your heads down!
The sin has been yours and ours.
The heat growing in the heart of God for ages—
The cowardice of the weak, the arrogance of the strong, the greed
of fat prosperity, the rancour of the deprived, pride of race,
and insult to man—
Has burst God’s peace, raging in storm.
Nothing will operate efficaciously to this grand effect that does not go deep into the constitution of men’s souls, and change their temper; so as to quell, internally, those fatal passions, which have perpetuated external war. And that is what cannot be done by any civilization, national refinement, science, or even an enlightened theoretical policy. All these may be but like fair structures and gardens, extended over a ground where volcanic fires are in a temporary slumber below. All these may be shattered and exploded by some mighty impulse of ambition, or some blast of revengeful anger. These exterior improvements may leave those passions in full existence there;—and if they be existing, they will prove it is not for nothing. No polish, cultivation, or intelligence in a nation, would be any security against its being possessed by a spirit of haughty and imperious pride, which would impel it to resent and revenge some insult, at whatever cost of blood and destruction;—or any security against ambition, when tempted by some opportune juncture for making a splendid conquest;—or against a nation’s running mad for martial glory, at the will and under the direction of some great national champion;— or against the pernicious delusion of an extravagant Patriotism. No; there must be a greater, nobler power brought into prevalence among mankind, and that is plainly CHRISTIANITY. It is in no other way, assuredly, that prophecy gives the pledge for the realization of our hope on this subject. And on any other ground we should agree with those speculators who scorn the notion of mankind being ever estranged from war. Nothing springing merely from the action of the human mind can suffice. It must be something coming from Heaven. And this is the appointed and qualified agent. [Note: John Foster, Lectures, ii. 20]
2. The European War, far from representing the bankruptcy of Christianity, really represents a great advance in its conquest of the world; for it is the first war of which many people have said that it marks the collapse of our religion. In other words, it is only now that Europe has found out again that if nations were Christian there would be no war. That was known well enough to Athanasius and Tertullian and the primitive Church; but from the time of Constantine till now it has been forgotten.
When the world took the Church under its protection, and largely under its control, in the event known as Constantine’s conversion, many of the principles of the Gospel were obscured. For centuries the Church was ready to bless armies and armadas. Shakespeare finds it appropriate to make bishops prominent among those who advise Henry v. to declare war on France. But in our day a Pope, when besought to bless arms, is reported to have answered, “I give my benediction to peace”; and an Archbishop solemnly declares all war to be “devil’s work.” We have at least found out—believers and unbelievers alike—that all war is contrary to the mind and spirit of Christ. That is a real gain. Indeed, it is not Christianity that has broken down, for Christianity has never been applied to international relations. What has broken down is a civilization which was not Christian.
