The War Prayer
by Mark Twain
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 "God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest,
Thunder thy clarion and lightning |
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.