“Why, just look here, Tommy. There’s what you call the angels’ song, ‘Glory to God in the highest! And on earth peace, good-will towards men.’ That’s how it goes, I think. Now, Professor Tyndall, one of the greatest scientific men of the day, says that you’ve only to look at the wars that still go on between civilised nations to see that the angels’ song has not been fulfilled—that the gospel has failed to bring about universal peace. And so you see the Christian Bible has not accomplished what it professed to accomplish.”
“Stop a bit—softly!” said the other; “let’s take one thing at a time. Professor Tyndall may understand a great deal about science, but it don’t follow that he knows much about the Bible. But now I’ll make bold to take the very wars that have been going on in your time and mine, and call them up to give evidence just the other way. Mind you, I’m not saying a word in favour of wars. I only wish people would be content to fight with my weapons, and no others; and that’s just simply with the Bible itself—‘the sword of the Spirit,’ as the Scripture calls it. But now, you just listen to this letter from a newspaper correspondent in the war between the Prussians and the French. I cut it out, and here it is:—
“‘This afternoon I witnessed a very touching scene. A French soldier of the Thirty-third Line Regiment, belonging to the corps of General Frossard, had been made prisoner at the outposts. He is a native of Jouy-aux-Arches, where his wife and children now reside. On his way to Corny, where the head-quarters of the prince are now situated, he asked permission to be allowed to see his wife and children. Need I say that the request was immediately granted? The poor woman, half delirious with joy, asked to be allowed to accompany her husband at least to Corny. This was also acceded to. But then came the difficulty about the bairns. The woman was weak, and could not carry her baby, and at home there was no one to mind it. As for the little chap of five, he could toddle along by his father’s side. The difficulty was, however, overcome by a great big Pomeranian soldier, who volunteered to act as nurse. This man had been quartered close to the poor woman’s house; and the little ones knew him, for he had often played with them. When therefore, bidding the poor wife be of good cheer, he held out his big strong arms to the little infant, it came to him immediately, and nestling its tiny head upon his shoulders, seemed perfectly content. So did the Prussian soldier carry the Frenchman’s child. When I first saw the group, the wife was clasped in her husband’s embrace; the little boy clung to his father’s hand; while the Prussian soldier, with the baby in his arms, stalked along by their sides. Then the Frenchwoman told her husband how, when she had been ill and in want of food, the Prussian soldiers had shared their rations with her, had fetched wood and water, had lit the fire, and helped her in their own rough, kindly way; until at last those two men, who belonged to countries now arrayed against each other in bitterest hate—who perhaps a few days since fought the one against the other—embraced like brothers, while I, like a great big fool, stood by and cried like a baby. But I was not alone in my folly, if folly it be: several Prussian officers and soldiers followed my example, for we all had wives and children in far-off homes.’
“Now, I ask you all, friends, to give me an honest answer: could such a thing have happened if those countries, France and Prussia, hadn’t both of ’em been enjoying the light that comes from the Bible—as Christian nations by profession, at any rate—for long years past? You’ve only to look at wars between nations that know nothing of the Bible to get an answer to that.”
“You had him there, Tommy,” cried one of the auditory, considerably delighted at Foster’s evident discomfiture.
But the latter returned to the charge, saying, “All very fine, Tommy Tracks; but you haven’t fully answered my objection.”
“I know it,” was Bradly’s reply. “I understand that you deny that the Bible is a revelation from God because it has failed, (so you say) to do what it professes to do.”
“Just so.”
“Well, what does it profess to do?”
“Doesn’t it profess to convert all the world?”