CHURCH AND WAR

Dominion, Volume 9, Issue 2606, 30 October 1915, Page 14

CHURCH AND WAR

NATION AT PRAYER HISTORIC SERVICE AT ST. PAUL'S. The national and Imperial celebration of the anniversary of the declaration of war found its'reverent and resolute expression in the historic service at' St. Paul's Cathedral (6ays the "Daily News"). The King and Queen, with other members of the Royal Family, Ministers of State, and distinguished representatives of the varied life of the Empire, men and women who have lost dear ones, and wounded soldiers and sailors were gathered together under the great dome. "Watch ye; stand fast in the faith. Quit yo like men; bo strong," was the text of the Archbishop of Canterbury's sermon; and the service, so impressive in its simplicity, ended on the triumphant note of the National Anthem. It was the symbolic expression of the soul of a people. Kneeling at noon between the two women, who are bound to him most closely by every sacred tie —his wife anil his mother—the King joined with the nation and Empire in prayer. History will remember it as significant of the inner life of these harsh days. Bercavemont, horror, the pressure of near dangers, tho bracing of hearts to bear whatever the future may hold in store, these have brought us back to' simple things—a child at its mother's knee, a King praying to his God. It was as though the aspirations of

the freedom-loving communities of the Empire were by some actual telepathic power fooussed upon St. Paul's, there to he unified as a single impulse—tho uplifting of a people's soul in tho name of the Fatherhood of God and the Brotherhood of Man.

Two thousand men and women, a few out of the tons of thousands who would have been present if spaco had permitted, filled the nave, and at least another five thousand must have been under tho dome or in the choir. Tho singing of the great homely hymns that carry us all back to childhood as it came rolling up to meet the flood of choir music was 0110 of the finest

things that lias been heard in tho Cathedral for years. As tho great congregation under tho dome swelled slowly from eleven o'clock onwards its unique character beoamo more and more apparent. File after file of wounded soldiers or sailors, beerutched and bandaged, passed to their places. Some were in khaki,' often patched and weather-stained, carrying sun helmet's, or' battered caps in their hands; others woro merely the loose butcher-blue suits of the hospitals, and others again the most erratic combinations of these two stylos. But they were all united in this—that their bodies bore the marks of the good fight they had fought. And there were the nurses, too, no less conspicuous and honourable. Each batch of wounded soldiers had its shepherding group of women, helping tho men to their places, and showing them every tender solicitude. Nurses and wounded .wero grouped mainly on the western side of the dome (that nearest the nave), and in front of them sat row upon row of officers in khaki, many of tliein straight from Flanders on short leave, officers' widows, and other people with a special claim to consideration. Not a single uniform other than the khaki of active service was to be seen. The gathering had the heroio simplicity of heroic times. Just before noon, when organ notes had begun to ccho mysteriously through the dome, the opening of tho North door lot in a burst of cheering that quickly ccased. Everyone kuew it must be for the King. Tho Royal party made an absolutely unostentatious entry. There had been a small ceremony of welcome by tho IJisliop of London, the Dean, and the Lord Mayor, in the porch, but it was of the briefest, and almost before anybody bad realised the fact that they wero in the Cathedral at all the King, the Queen, and the Queen Mother had passed to their places facing the Altar. Then the first notes sounded of a tune that, is known the whole world round. The choir had begun to sing, slowly and softly, "'lloclc of Ages." Soon the congregation were joining,, softly, too, so that the waves' of music beat' upon tho great sounding-board of the domo like a gentle but resistless ocean swell, till they rose to full-throated. 6torm in the lines: When I soar through tracts unknown, See Thee on Thy judgment throne. "Watch ye; stand fast in the faith. Quit you like men; be strong," was the text of the Archbishop of Canterbury's sermon. It attempted no eloquence, but was a manly, straightforward appeal for the steadfast prosecution of tlie great task the nation lias taken in hand.

"Hundreds of us must feel," he said, "that these straight and strong words furnish tho very thought which should bo gripping and steadying us just now. To the men and women of our Empiro has como in tho unrolling of the wor.ld's life an' unparalleled trust not laid in like degree on any of our sires—a trust of taking part in a conflict involving the largest principles of conduct and tho simplest issues of right and wrong. Wo have made up our minds that we judged aright when, on this exact date a year ago, after exhausting every effort which could honourably bo made to avert conflict, we deliberately faced the tremendous issues and unsheathed the sword in a cause which we can, with a clear conscience, commend to God—a cause of fealty to plighted word and of resistance to tho ruthless dominance of force and force alqne. If, then, to tho best of the powers God gives us, our conviction is thus clear and undeviating, it remains that we put into the furtherance of tho right every ounce of strength and, what is harder, of perseverance which wo can muster and sustain. The duty is absolute. Are we alive in every fibro of our corporate and separate lives? The well-being of the world in centuries unborn may turn upon our use in every way and all ways of this decisive hour. If there be hesitancy or reserve, can we at all count upon it that right shall win?'' The congregation knelt again, and while they knelt the choir sang the "Miserere" to Stainer's exquisite sotting. Men's voices chanted first, then the clear treble of tho white-robed choristers andi scarlet-coated children of tho Chapel Royal soared and sank, leaping to welcome the Psalmi3t's triumphant outburst: , "Thou shalt make me hear of joy and glaidness, that the bones which Thou hast broken may rejoice." and sinking again to the petiirion: "0 bo favourable and gracious unto Sion, build Thou the walls of Jerusalem." Prayers followed—for tho King, for "tho men who through perils of war aro serving this nation," and that tho issues of the war may be decided "according to righteousness," followed by a special thanksgiving for "our brothors who have laid down their lives for their country," and tho General Thanksgiving. The second hymn was "Praise, my scul, the King of Heaven," and after that the Bishop of London—putting marvellous expression into his words, though the prayer was intoned—asked a blessing upon the pcoplo of this land: "Help us (lie prayed) to respond to the call of our country according to our several powers; put far from us all selfish indifference to the need of others, nnd give us grace to fulfil our daily duties with a sober diligence." After tho Blessing, tho hymn, i'Tfrmgk tho nigkt oi 4oukt AWMMI

row," was sung by the whole congregation; and "Cioci Save tho King," with tiio full power of organ, orchestra, clioir, and. people, closed tho historic servico.

THE WAYSIDE CALVARY. Atigust 4, 1915. Sir Owen Seaman, tho editor of "Punch," wrote these lines to accompany a lino cartoon, "Tho Two Ideals": Now . with the full year Memory holds her tryst, Heavy with such a tale of bitter loss As never Earth has suffered since tho Christ Hung for us on the Cross. If God, 0 Kaiser, makos the vision plain; Gives you on some lone Calvary to seo The Man of Sorrows Who endured the pain And died to set us free — How will you face beneath its crown of thorn That figure stark against tho smoking skies, Tho arms outstretched, the sacred head forlorn, And those reproachful eyes? How daro confront the false quest with the true P Or think what gulfs between tho ideals lie Of Him Who died that mon might live— and you Who live that men may die? Ah, turn your eyes away; Ho reads your heart; Pass on and, having done your work abhorred^ Join hands with Judas in his place apart, Yon who betrayed your Lord. CARDINAL AMETTE AND HIS PRIEST-SOLDIERS. 'Ait the closo of a j'ear of war tho Cardinal Archbisliop of Paris addressed a letter to tho clergy of his dioceso who have been mobilised, and who number almost half of his priests. Eight have been killed on tho field of honour. His Eminence writes:—

. "In a trial of which it is yet impossible to foresee tho end, there is nothing to be done but to practise what wo preach; to hold on to the end, that is to say, till victory is achieved. And you will hold on in the accomplishment of your duty as soldiers the more faithful you are to the praotico of priestly virtues and piety—the spirit of sacrifice, of apostolate and of prayer. Sacrifice is imposed on you daily in all its forms and exposes many of you to the supreme immolation of life: unite all these sacrifices to that of the Sovereign Priest, Our Lord Jesus Christ, for tho redemption of souls; they will be fruitful. As to tho aspostolate, it is only possible to many or you in a restricted form. Tho most fortunate among .you are those who can, either as chaplains or stretcher-bearers at the. front, give the help of their ministry to their brothers in arms. But all of you, if you are always anxious to do 'good to those about you, can bo apostles, in all prudence and discretion, by giving an examplo of couratrc, discipline, endurance,'and devoteduess." A TRIBUTE TO OUR SOLDIERS. Father Peal, 1 S.J., who is giving his cxpcrienco as an army chaplain in the "Catholic Herald of India," writes: — : "One arid all have been strnclc hy tho patience and unselfish conduct of "Tommy." Ho may be wounded, but lffiver complains. Ho is always ready to walk, or even to crawl, to make room in tho ambulanco. wagon for a comrade. He is most grateful for any little comforts wo may offer him, and while his wounds are being dressed, though ho may wince at times, he chats ahead and relates his exploits as if they were tho most ordinary acts in the world."

AN INTERESTING EXPERIENCE. One of our soldiers records a very interesting experience. ' "I shall never forget," he writes, "the first night I spent in barracks,, When the last post sounded ait 10.15, I prepared for sleep and knelt on my hard bed for my usual 'nightly prayer. When I got up I was raoro than surprised to seo almost all our company in ono long corridor kneel on tlieir beds before finally retiring. I only noticed about five who didn't do so. f begin to think that there is more religion in the Army than- in the majority of homes." —"Progress" (Salem Church; Leeds.)