Note 2 — ISAIAH. (continued 16)

Almost four or five years since, our Government had a war with the Pindarees—a terrible assemblage of outlaws, robbers, and murderers, to the number of fifty thousand, occupying a strong and almost inaccessible tract on the northern frontier. Thence with impetuous rapidity, they rushed down, all horsemen, on the country, inhabited by a population of cultivators; seized whatever could easily be carried off, and with furious eagerness demolished, burnt, destroyed the rest. But far more than this, they were universally possessed with the spirit of murder; they killed the people without regard to sex or age. Not only so, but when sufficiently at leisure for such amusement, they inflicted excruciating tortures previous to death.

Now, when the Governor-General had intelligence of this—what was he to do? what, acting as a Christian? Nothing? What, as a great magistrate, did he “bear the sword” for? What was he Governor at all for? To lie in splendid state, and number and tax the people? Or was he to direct that prayer should be made in the churches for something very like a miracle? And on failure of that, prayers that the wretched people he governed might be all meekly resigned to their fate? and that even should the fell and fiendish legion, being unresisted, choose to pursue their way all down to Calcutta, all the people in their tract could not escape, and at last himself and the people of the city, might be enabled calmly to submit to a sovereign dispensation of Providence?

He did not do this. He chose rather to set out on the rule of his appointment, to be “a terror to evil-doers,” “a minister of God, a revenger, to execute wrath upon them that do evil” (Rom. xiii. 4). But if war is in all possible cases wrong, he perpetuated an enormous crime against Christianity in marching his armies with a celerity unparalleled in that climate, and encountering, intercepting, and exterminating the murderers, so that the surviving people could feel themselves in peace.

Put the stronger case of an immense host of northern barbarians being landed on our coasts (Tartars, Cossacks, Calmucks), and joined there by the legions of the Popish states, what would happen if we all, as Christians, judged it wrong and wicked to fight? Unless, indeed, we should suppose a divided opinion in the nation with respect to the Christian principle of the case, and that so a very large and powerful proportion was resolute to resist in all the array and action of war. Now, while with the utmost sacrifice and peril they were doing so, and suppose successfully, what a remarkable phenomenon would be presented! namely, the other division of the people deploring these very proceedings and successes by which their houses are saved from ravage and desolation,—deploring them as an awful outrage against Christian rectitude,—praying for the instant conversion of these deluded men to a right apprehension of Christian duty,—that they might immediately throw away their arms and allow the barbarian inundation to burst forward! Or, having failed in this prayer (and a mighty victory having finally cleared the land of the infernal irruption), then lamenting that a dreadful national violation of Christian principles had been irretrievably consummated! And as success purchased by crime can in the result be little else than a calamity and a judgment, they might be alarmed and dismayed to find themselves still in possession of their former freedom of worship, of speech, of action, and of all their rights as citizens.—Foster. (Written in 1823.)