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The War Prayer
by Mark Twain
Note: During his
writing career, Mark Twain had criticized perhaps every type of
person or institution either living or dead. But this piece was just
a little too hot for his family to tolerate. Since they believed the
short narrative would be regarded as sacrilege, they urged him not
to publish it. However, Twain was to have the last word, and even
the word after that. Having directed it to be published after his
death, he said: "I have told the truth in that... and only dead men
can tell the truth in this world." Twain wrote "The War Prayer" in
1904, in response to the
Philippine-American War, but it was
not published until 1916, six years after his death.
It
was a time of great exulting and excitement. The country was up in arms,
the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the
drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the
bunched firecrackers hissing and sputtering; on every hand and far down
the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering
wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers
marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the
proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with
voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed
mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the
deepest depths of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest
intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks
the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and
country, and invoked the God of Battles, beseeching His aid in our good
cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. It
was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits
that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast doubt upon its
righteousness straight way got such a stern and angry warning that for
their personal safety's sake they quickly shrank out of sight and
offended no more in that way.
Sunday morning came – next day the battalions would leave for the front;
the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces
alight with martial dreams – visions of the stern advance, the gathering
momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the
foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the
surrender! – then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored,
submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear
ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no
sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for
the flag, or failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service
proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first
prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the
building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and
beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation:
"God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest, Thunder thy clarion and
lightning thy sword!"
Then came the "long" prayer. None could remember the like of it for
passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its
supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all
would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and
encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the
day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make
them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to
crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable
honor and glory –
An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the
main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a
robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending
in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale,
pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following and wondering, he made
his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher's side and
stood there, waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his
presence, continued his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the
words, uttered in fervent appeal, "Bless our arms, grant us victory, O
Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!"
The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside – which the
startled minister did – and took his place. During some moments he
surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an
uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:
"I come from the Throne – bearing a message from Almighty God!" The
words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave
no attention. "He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and
will grant it if such be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have
explained to you its import – that is to say, its full import. For it is
like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he
who utters it is aware of – except he pause and think.
"God's servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken
thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two – one uttered, the other not.
Both have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the
spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this – keep it in mind. If you would
beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke
a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing
of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly
praying for a curse upon some neighbor's crop which may not need rain
and can be injured by it.
"You have heard your servant's prayer – the uttered part of it. I am
commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it – that part
which the pastor – and also you in your hearts – fervently prayed
silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You
heard these words: 'Grant us victory, O Lord our God!' That is
sufficient. The whole of the uttered prayer is compact into those
pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed
for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow
victory – must follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening
spirit of God the Father fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He
commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!
"O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to
battle – be Thou near them! With them – in spirit – we also go forth
from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord
our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our
shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of
their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with
shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their
humble homes with hurricanes of fire; help us to wring the hearts of
their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out
roofless with their little children to wander unfriended the wastes of
their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun
flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn
with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it –
for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their
lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water
their way with tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their
wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source
of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are
sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen."
[After a pause.] "Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The
messenger of the Most High waits."
It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was
no sense in what he said.
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