This day broke upon our country in gloom; for the sounds of war came up to us from the South,—war between brethren; civil war; well may "all faces gather blackness." And yet the gloom we feel ought to be the result of sorrow for the erring, for the violators of national unity, for those who are in black rebellion against truth, freedom, and peace. The rebels have struck the first blow, and what ruin they are pulling down on their heads may be guessed, though not yet fully foretold; but it is plain to see that a dark prospect is before them, since they have no high principle at the heart of their cause.
It will be no pleasure to any American to remember that he lived in this revolution, when brother lifted his hand against brother; and the fear is, that we shall forget that we are brethren still, though some are so unreasonable and wander so far from the true principles of national prosperity. Though the clouds of this morning have cleared away into brightness, it seems as if we could feel the thunder of those deadly echoes passing to and from Fort Sumter. But there is a right, and God always defends it. War is not according to His wish; though it seems one of the permitted evils yet. He will scatter those who delight in it, and it is not too much to hope and expect that He will uphold the government which has so long been trying to avert bloodshed.
Another unpleasant association with this day. I went to the meeting expecting and needing spiritual food, and received only burning coals and ashes. There was a sermon (not by our minister, I am glad to say) to prove that Satan will be tormented forever and ever; and the stress of the argument was to prove the endlessness of his punishment. The text was taken from the twentieth of Revelation, a chapter which few have the audacity to explain; but the object was to show that "eternal," in its highest sense, is not so plainly taught in the Bible, as "eternal" in its lowest sense, that of duration. Truly, "The wisdom of men is foolishness with God!” — the deep and sacred truth of eternal life lies hidden yet in the words of Christ, for him who will understand. It seems to me wrong to preach a theoretical sermon like this to those who are hungering for the bread of life; who are longing to come nearer to the Saviour, and receive His spirit. I think none but a young minister would have preached so; certainly, a warmhearted Christian could not have treated the subject in that cold argumentative way. As it was, I could only pity one who could so misinterpret his Master's words; he must be yet on the outer threshold of the heart of Christ, if so near as that, and not, like the Beloved John, leaning on His bosom. And I grieved for the "hungry sheep," who looked up and were not fed. But if such sermons drive all hearers to the word itself, refusing human interpretations, they may do good. Alas! We grope in darkness yet! Man is blinded to God's deep meaning everywhere, in thought and in life, in religion and in government. The dark ages are not wholly past; nor will they be, until all fetters of thought and limb are broken.
Yet, through all, the birds are singing with the joy of sunshine after April rain; and earth is beautiful and bright, beneath the promises of spring, written on soft skies and sweet west winds. The good God sits yet upon His throne of love!
SOURCE: Daniel Dulany Addison, “Lucy Larcom: Life, Letters, and Diary,” pp. 87-9
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