What is, in some respects, more singular, the Israelites were subsequently delivered from a foreign yoke by the heroism of a religious woman. This was Deborah, a prophetess, the wife of Lapidoth. For twenty years her country had groaned beneath the iron hand of Jabin, the Canaanite, of whose numerous armies Sisera was captain. Under the direction of Deborah, the Israelites, amounting only to ten thousand, joined battle with their oppressors. The adversary was completely beaten, so that not a man survived to tell the tale of their defeat; and, lest the shadow of doubt should rest upon these active operations, conducted as they were by the wise and good, they were celebrated, and thus rendered immortal, by one of the noblest odes on record, written, without doubt, under plenary inspiration: while pointed maledictions are levelled against those lukewarm friends whose supineness kept them from the righteous fray. Let us listen a minute. ‘The inhabitants of the villages ceased, they ceased in Israel, until that I Deborah arose, that I arose a mother in Israel. They fought from heaven; the stars in their courses fought against Sisera. The river of Kishon swept them away, that ancient river, the river Kishon. O my soul, thou hast trodden down strength. Curse ye Meroz, said the angel of the Lord, curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof; because they came not to the help of the Lord, to the help of the Lord against the mighty. So let all thine enemies perish, O Lord; but let them that love Him be as the sun when he goeth forth in his might.’ The result of these spirited demonstrations was of the most substantial order; for it is particularly noted that the land had rest forty years.
We find, also, that Gideon and Jephthah were of the same noble line of godly soldiery. The former rescued his country from Midianitish despotism; and the latter put down the children of Ammon. ‘He smote them from Aroer, even till thou come to Minnith, even twenty cities, and unto the plain of the vineyards, with a very great slaughter.’ I scarcely need add, that the sympathy of succeeding generations has been excited by his rash and thoughtless vow connected with the virtuous and noble-minded conduct of his daughter. But his fame, as the brave and pious defender of his people, can never be tarnished.
About eleven centuries before the Christian era, another prodigy arose. This was a man of superhuman physical power; and, what is most remarkable, the feats resulting from his prodigious strength were performed chiefly, if not exclusively, when, as the Scriptures term it, ‘the Spirit of the Lord came mightily upon him;’ and when that influence departed, he became weak as other men. In other words, while his heart was right with God he prevailed; and when he forsook the Rock of his salvation, defeat and ruin were nigh. In the height of his glorious career, he slew a thousand men with the jaw-bone of an ass; and when in danger of perishing from thirst, a miracle was wrought in his favour. ‘God clave an hollow place that was in the jaw, and there came water thereout; and when he had drunk, his spirit came again, and he revived: wherefore he called the name of that place En-hakkore,’ or, the well of him that cried. It is true he lost his life at last, and, in the interim, had been sadly abused; but his end was triumphant; and he fell, buried beneath the bodies of the slain. This remarkable man judged Israel twenty years; and if we survey the dreadful excesses in which the people indulged, as recorded in the latter part of the Book of Judges, the restraints of some such influential ruler as Samson appear to have been necessary. When there was no king in Israel, every man did that which was right in his own eyes; and that was, in most instances, uniformly wrong.
Another of the heroes of antiquity, whose biography illustrates our meaning, is Saul. The immediate cause of his first achievement arose from the conduct of Nahash, an Ammonite, who insulted the men of Jabesh-Gilead by epistolary insolence, and the threat of future outrage. Unable to defend themselves, they contrived to obtain seven days’ respite for consultation. This they employed in sending messengers to Gibeah, specially empowered to obtain immediate help. When the tidings reached the ear of Saul, he was greatly moved: the Spirit of God came upon him; measures were directly adopted to repress the raging of the heathen, and the deputation were sent back to assure their friends that, ‘to-morrow, by that time the sun be hot, ye shall have help.’ Faithful to the promise, Saul and his men were in sight by the morning watch; and the Ammonites, though three hundred thousand of them shone in arms, were utterly routed. Saul was a courageous man and an approved soldier. Though at last slain in battle, and his countrymen were defeated, it should be remembered that he had offended and forsaken his God by an improper invasion of the office of the priesthood; had been weak enough to consult a witch at Endor; and under a malignant influence had several times attempted the life of his best earthly friend. The varied vicissitudes of his life, and his untimely end, are therefore to be viewed as proofs of the position now sought to be maintained. Pious soldiers fight best. When Saul served God, he beat the Philistines; when he ceased to serve God, the Philistines slew him. The occasion of his death was touching, and called forth from a hand of no common skill a lament not easily surpassed: ‘The beauty of Israel is slain upon the high places; how are the mighty fallen! Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew, neither let there be rain, upon you, nor fields of offerings: for there the shield of the mighty is vilely cast away, the shield of Saul, as though he had not been anointed with oil. How are the mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished!’ But of all the warriors whose history is recorded in Scripture, none is to be compared with David. Almost every step of his eventful life, from the period when he was taken from the sheep-cote to his complete establishment on the throne of Israel, was marked by a spirit of singular enterprise and valour, regulated and impelled by fervent piety. He is described even in youth as ‘a mighty valiant man, and a man of war, and prudent in matters, and a comely person, and the Lord was with him.’ His combat with Goliath exhibits an astonishing instance of cool and determined resolution, especially when the simplicity of his attire and weapons are contrasted with the panoply of the tall Philistine. The Israelitish slingers, it is said, could hurl stones with amazing force, and precision so wonderful as to strike within an hair’s-breadth of the intended mark. David was, no doubt, a proficient in this art, of which the issue of the duel is sufficient proof. The Philistine came on, wrapt probably in steel, and in formidable array, preceded by his armourbearer. He then commenced a speech, somewhat Homeric, but replete with invective, in which, like an overgrown coward, he impudently invoked the curses of his gods upon his antagonist, and ended by intimating that his shattered remains should soon be the vultures’ meal. David’s answer was finely conceived, and as well expressed. Without further delay, he addressed himself to the fight; ‘he put his hand in his bag, and took thence a stone, and slang it, and smote the Philistine in his forehead, that the stone sank into his forehead, and he fell upon his face to the earth.’ The military prowess and superior talents of David were afterwards shown, during a lengthened course of brilliant operations, in which he was generally successful.
As collateral evidence of the possible existence and moral worth of a pious soldiery, it is worth notice, that in the New Testament, which divulges the religion of peace and love, the writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews in exhibiting ‘a great cloud of witnesses,’ whom he sets forth to defend and exemplify the truth, takes care to include therein, with special commendation, several of the heroes to whom allusion has been made. Were it not that the time failed, as we are expressly told, he had a desire to expatiate largely on their respective merits and services. He is, therefore, obliged to content himself with an extract, as it were, from the army-list, adding only a brief summary of a few of the more splendid excellencies of each. There are delightful notices of Gideon, and Barak, and Samson, and Jephthah, and David, and Samuel; ‘who through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the aliens; and of whom, waiving all other encomium,’ we are told in one comprehensive sentence, that ‘the world was not worthy.’
Independently of the instances cited from sacred record, the page of profane history furnishes numerous instances of sound and practical piety among the professors in the rough and repulsive art of war; and had we leisure for copious extract, there would be no difficulty in arranging a formidable staff, composed of such persons,—of men, too, who had been eminently successful in the strategy and science of hostility. One of the earliest and most extraordinary manifestations of Christian zeal is recorded to have happened to the Theban legion, in the reign of Diocletian, the Roman Emperor; who, it is said, rather than conform to the rites of Paganism, suffered martyrdom by the order of Maximian, to the number of six thousand. Another instance of ancient military piety is recorded in the case of the Thundering Legion, a name given to those Christians who served in the Roman army of Marcus Antoninus, in the second century. It seems that when that emperor was at war with the Marcomanni, his army was enclosed by the enemy, and reduced to the most deplorable condition, by the thirst under which they languished, in a parched desert. Just at this time they were singularly relieved by a sudden and unexpected rain. This event was attributed to the Christians, who were supposed to have effected this by their prayers; and the name of the ‘Thundering Legion’ was given to them on account of the thunder and lightning that destroyed the enemy, while the shower revived the fainting Romans.
Our own Alfred the Great combined in his own person that union of piety and courage which, when associated, are so truly noble. He was born at Wantage, in Berkshire, in 849. Those were dark ages; and the prince, we are told, was twelve years of age before a master could be procured in the western kingdom to teach him the alphabet. He felt the misery of ignorance; he saw the oppression of his country; and determined, if possible, to remove both. His improvement in letters was astonishing. He ultimately acquired great erudition. Had he not been illustrious as a king, he would have had fame as an author; and an old history of Ely has asserted that he translated the Old and New Testaments. On ascending the throne, he found that the Danes had penetrated into the heart of his kingdom; and before he had reigned a month, he was obliged to take the field against these formidable enemies. After numerous battles, fought with varied success, he finally expelled them from the kingdom. Alfred reigned twenty-eight years; during the last three of which he enjoyed profound peace. He died A.D. 900, and was buried at Winchester. All historians agree that he was one of the most valiant, wise, and excellent kings that ever reigned in England. There is great reason to believe that we are indebted to this prince for trial by jury; and the Doomsday-book, which is preserved in the Exchequer, is thought to be no more than another edition of Alfred’s Book of Winchester, which contained a survey of the kingdom. In private life Alfred was one of the most amiable men in his dominions; and of so equal a temper that he never suffered either sadness or levity to enter his mind. He was a remarkable economist of his time; and an explanation has been given of the method he took for dividing and keeping an account of it. He caused six wax candles to be made; on the candles the inches were regularly marked; and having found that one of them burned just four hours, he committed them to the care of the keepers of his chapel, who from time to time gave him notice how the hours went; but, as in windy weather the candles were wasted by the impression of the air on the flame, to remedy this inconvenience he invented lanterns, there being then no glass in his dominions. Of the piety of this consummate general there can be no doubt. Just before his death he was visited by his son, to whom he gave the following admirable advice: ‘My dear son, sit thee down beside me, and I will deliver thee true instruction. I feel that my hour is coming; my countenance is wan. My days are almost done. I shall go to another world, and thou shalt be left alone in all my wealth. I pray thee, strive to be a father and a lord to thy people. Be thou a father to the children and a friend to the widow. Comfort thou the poor, shelter the weak, and with all thy might right that which is wrong. Govern thyself by law: then shall the Lord love thee, and God above all things shall be thy reward. Call upon Him to advise thee in all thy need, and He shall help thee in all thou undertakest.’
Godliness is profitable also for the private soldier, and contributes to the confirmation of his courage. One of the directions given by Oliver Cromwell to the soldiers of his army was, that every man should carry a Bible in his pocket: the edition distributed was that since known by the name of Field’s. This arrangement, so much in accordance with the spirit of the times, was carried into effect when the Protector assumed the command of the Parliamentary army against Charles the First. Among the rest, there was a wild young fellow, who ran away from his apprenticeship in London, for the sake of plunder and dissipation. This fellow was obliged to be in the fashion. Being one day ordered out on a skirmishing party, or to attack some fortress, he returned back to his quarters in the evening without hurt. When he was going to bed, pulling the Bible out of his pocket, he observed a hole in it; his curiosity led him to trace the depth of this hole into his Bible, when he found that a bullet had gone as far as Ecclesiastes xi. 9. He read the verse: ‘Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thy heart, and in the sight of thine eyes: but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment.’ The words were set home upon his heart, by the divine Spirit, so that he became a sound believer in the Lord Jesus Christ, and lived in London many years after the civil wars were over.
Religion and its saving effects are the same at every period; and, descending the stream of time, we may strengthen our case by relating an account of late but genuine piety in the last hours of a brave and accomplished officer. The following very interesting incident is related by Dr. Fresenius, Senior of the Clergy at Frankfort:
‘After the battle of Bergen, in Germany, among the many wounded who were brought in to Frankfort-on-the-Maine, was the Right Honourable George C. Dykern, Baron, lieutenant-general of the Saxon troops, in the service of the king of France. He was born of an ancient and noble family in Silesia, on April 10th, 1710; so that it was on an anniversary of his birth-day that he received his wound. He was of equal abilities as a minister and a general. In his younger years he had gone through a regular course of study in the university, and had made great proficiency in philosophy, especially in mathematics. He afterwards studied polemic divinity, till he reasoned himself into an infidel. During his illness, he showed not the least desire for pious company or serious discourse, till the surgeon let his valet-de-chambre know that he could not live long. The man then asked his master whether he did not choose to be visited by a clergyman. He answered, with warmth, “I shall not trouble those gentlemen: I know well myself what to believe and do.” His man, not discouraged, continued thus: “My lord, have you ever found me wanting in my duty, all the time I have been in your service?” He answered, “No.” “Then,” replied he, “I will not be wanting now. The surgeons count you past hopes of recovery, but every one is afraid to tell you so. You stand upon the brink of eternity. Pray, sir, order a clergyman to be called.” He paused a little, but soon gave his hand to his servant, thanked him for his honesty, and ordered him to send for me.