Class 
 
W A.E A DISCIPI^INE 
 
 S E R M o ]sr 
 
 I'HK ACHED IK 
 
 CALVARY CHURCH, 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 THANKSGIVINCx DAY. NOVEMBER 24 1864. 
 
 By CHAS. WADSWOKTH. 
 
 Pu1)lislir<I by Request. 
 
 S A N F H A i\ CISCO : 
 ^ M H. BANCROFT & COMPANY. J^ 
 
 m^ — - -j^jM, 
 
tfciA- 
 
 W^AR A DISCIPLINE. 
 
 A 
 
 SERMON" 
 
 PREACHED IN 
 
 CALVARY CHURCH, 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO, 
 
 ON 
 
 THANKSGIVING DAY, NOVEMBER 24, 1864. 
 
 By CHAS. WADSWOETH, 
 
 Pnblisbed by Request. 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO: 
 H. H. BANCROFT & COMPANY. 
 
 1864. 
 
tHSE 
 • Wiif 
 
 
 Jk 
 
 
 Turubull & Smith, Printers, 612 Commercial Street. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 San Fraxcisoo, Nov. 25th, 1864 
 Bev. Chas. Wadsworth, D. D. 
 
 Retv. and Dear Sir, — Having listened with great pleasure to your discourse on the occas- 
 ion of our Kational Thanksgiving, Nov. 24, 1864, and believing that the wide diffusion of the 
 truth therein, will do much good, we earnestly solicit the same for publication. 
 
 Yours, very truly, 
 
 H. P. COON. 
 H. H. HAIGHT. 
 THOS. H. SELBY. 
 CHAS. CLAYTON. 
 E. B. BABBITT. 
 H. II. NEWHALL. 
 JAS. a ROBERT& 
 
 GESTLEJtEN : 
 
 In compliance with your request, and deferring to your Judgment of any possible good 
 its publication may subserve, I herewith Inclose this imperfect sermon. I need not say 
 that it is a mere handful of fragments ; a brief hour's discursion on so broad a field of 
 thought could not well be more. As such, the manuscript is submitted to your disposal. 
 With every consideration of respect and esteem, 
 I remain, very sincerely, 
 
 Your friend and servant, 
 
 CHARLES WADSWORTB, 
 To the 
 
 Hex. H. P. Coon, and others. 
 
SEEMON. 
 
 "Evert Branch that beareth Frctt, He purgeth it that it mat bring 
 
 FORTH MORE FrUIT." — Johu XV : 2. 
 
 The text is metaphorical of husbandry. It describes the 
 process whereby the fruit of a vineyard is improved and in- 
 creased. It is appropriate to this occasion, because these annual 
 thanksgivings were originally designed, and should always serve, 
 to quicken our gratitude to Almighty God for the ripened fruits 
 of the earth. They answer, in our religious life, to the Feast of 
 Harvest, under the old dispensation. And such festivals are be- 
 fitting and beautiful. They were so, pre-eminently, in regard of 
 the Jews, because, as a nation, they were farmers. Peasant and 
 prince, in their respective spheres, were alike husbandmen. AMiile 
 a small portion of the tribes on the eastern side of the Jordan led 
 a purely pastoral life, the great body of the people were emphati- 
 cally tillers of the soil. Their peculiar civil polity was intended 
 to make them such. Not only did each tribe possess a particular 
 province, but each family had, as well, a specific inheritance which 
 could never be wholly alienated. No great land holding aristo- 
 cracy, therefore, could obtain permanently among them. The 
 poorest Jew held his freehold by irrevocable title. If, for a time, 
 haply or wilfully alienated, it reverted unincumbered to him or 
 his at the year of Jubilee ; and every husbandman felt that all 
 improvement of the estate was for the benefit of himself and his 
 children. 
 
 Under this peculiar encouragement to labor, the whole land 
 attained the highest agricultural condition. Naturally exceed- 
 ingly fertile, it became, through culture, the garden of the world. 
 
The peculiar productions of all zones were found in its widely 
 diversified soil and climate ; grains of all species grew on its sunny 
 plains ; plantations of olives covei'ed its saady hills ; its low, clay 
 soils nourished groves of stately palm ; its sharp mountain ridges 
 were purple with rich clusters of the vine ; even its precipitous 
 rocks were made fertile by means of artificial embankments, so 
 that, in the autumn time, corn-fields and vineyards and orange 
 groves and forests rose, in ascending circles, from valley to hill- 
 top, covering the whole landscape with a lavish beauty, until the 
 old Canaan, in its loveliness, seemed a fitting type of heaven. 
 And to such a people the Feast of Harvest was, of course, 
 a glorious festival. Its annual return woke the whole laud into 
 gladness. Fair and befitting were the exulting rites of that old 
 holiday, when, from every hamlet and home, from glens of the 
 vine and the olive, and valleys golden with corn, the thou- 
 sands of Israel went up to appear before God in Zion, filling the 
 land, as they passed, with those old choral harmonies : — " Praise 
 the Lord, Jerusalem ; i^raise thy God, O Zion. For He hath 
 strengthened the bars of thy gates ; He hath blessed thy children 
 within thee. He maketh peace m thy borders, andfilleth thee with 
 the finest of the wheat ; He hath not dealt so ivith any nation. 
 Praise ye the Lord. Praise God in His sanctuary. Praise Him 
 in the firmament of His power. Praise Him with the sound of the 
 trumpet. Praise Him loith the timbrel and dance ; kings of the 
 earth and all])eople, princes and all judges of the earth ; both young 
 men and maidens, old men and children. Let every thing thai hath 
 breath jyraise the Lord. Praise ye the Lord." 
 
 Nor even in this aspect, as simple harvest festivals, do these 
 annual Thanksgivings beseem us less than the Jews. We that 
 live in cities sometimes forget this. We think of agricultural 
 fairs and harvest-homes as things especially appropriate in rural 
 districts ; while in the progress of the arts, and manufactures, 
 and commerce, we feel a deeper interest. But we should remember 
 that even these have their springs in, and depend upon, husbandry. 
 Suspend, for a single twelvemonth, the world's practical agriculture 
 and it would become a great sepulchre. Therefore, the sailor on 
 the sea, the artizan in his shop, the merchant on exchange, the 
 orator on the platform, the statesman in the cabinet, the noble 
 in the palace, the king upcjn the throne arc all as deeply and per- 
 sonally interested in husbandry, and should be as thankful for its 
 success, as the humblest tiller of the soil. 
 
Such feasts of harvest, therefore, become all men ; and 
 not least of all, Calitornians. First, manifestly, among our 
 occasions of praise are our agricultural blessings. California 
 has a thousand things to be thankful for. In regard of manifold 
 interests, a bright and boundless future lies before her. 
 
 Her mines are inexhaustible. The whole land shows like a 
 cabinet which the great Father has stored for the delight of his 
 children. Yea, like a treasure vault, whose riches might 
 suffice for the traffic of the world. Verily, in comparison with 
 other lands, is the old prophecy fulfilled : — " For brass God hath 
 given us gold ; and for iron, silver ; and for wood, brass ; and for 
 sto7ies, iron." California may well be thankful for her treasures of 
 the earth. 
 
 She may be thankful, too, for her commerce. Already, she is 
 the most important commercial State of the North Pacific ; and 
 this relative position she must maintain, for she can have no rival. 
 So that, in that hastening time, when her population shall have 
 marvellously increased ; and, the cost of labor being cheapened, 
 her canons and cities shall hum with the wheels and spindles of 
 her own manufactures, and her vast mineral wealth be economic- 
 ally and thoroughly developed ; and more than all, when the im- 
 mense products of the East shall flow through her Golden Gate, 
 as the navies of the Pacific pour their treasures at her feet, and a 
 thousand rushing chariots, along pathways of iron, bear through 
 her Sierran passes all this measureless traffic ; then the com- 
 merce of California will be the grandest in the world. 
 Over her mineral and her commercial resources, may our fair 
 State well keep thanksgiving. 
 
 And yet, second to nothing, should be her glory in her 
 agricultural promise. Her harvest will, in the end, be of 
 more value than her mines. Soil, atmosphere, climate — 
 each a marvel in itself — combine, in this behalf, almost un- 
 to miracle. They have already rendered her vegetation the 
 wonder of the world — for hero are clusters heavier than EschoPs, 
 and fruits more abundant than Arcadia's, and flowers more wonder- 
 fully fair than Paistum's or Sharon's. And when, in her swift pro- 
 gress, she shall have come to that period of repose and culture, 
 when wealth sinks from its importance as an end, to be reckoneil 
 only for its uses, and her merchant princes shall delight to beauti- 
 fy her glorious scenery — building amid gardens like Eden, palaces 
 
8 
 
 to enshrine her new types of art, and embosom her new social life 
 — then, in that long, fair, pastoral holiday, will her simple land- 
 scape scenery, and agricultural wealth render her, most of all, the 
 world's envy. And it shall come to pass, if not in your day, yet in 
 the days of your children, that the grand old harvest feast of Judea 
 will be fully rivalled here, and your loudest songs, like her's, be 
 these autumnal thanksgivings for the divine love that crowns the 
 year with radiant blossoms and ripened fruits ot the earth. 
 It is eminently proper, then, to observe these anniversaries in 
 the spirit which originated them — public gratitude unto God at 
 the ingathering of the land's ripened harvests. 
 
 Meanwhile, in each succeeding year, these Thanksgiving Days 
 have, by common consent, assumed, more and more, the character 
 of national thanksgivings for great national blessings — seasons in 
 which the preacher in the sanctuary is expected to discourse es- 
 pecially on our civil and national reasons for praise. And as ap- 
 propriate in both respects we have chosen our text. It befits a 
 simple harvest festival, for it is metaphorical of husbandry. It 
 befits our civil and national condition, as a stricken and suffei*- 
 ing nation ; because, under this figure of a pruning-knife, it pre- 
 sents even national sufferings in merciful aspects, and reveals 
 God's hidden meaning of love in these phenomena of disturbance. 
 
 Now, we need not say that to the world this day, our country 
 presents almost only aspects of disaster. The vision is just that 
 upon which the great statesman of New England prayed that his 
 eyes might never look : — " A sun shining on the broken fragments 
 of our once glorious Union — States dissevered, discordant, belli- 
 gerent — a land rent with civil feuds and drenched with fratricidal 
 blood." We are observing our National Festival in conditions 
 which, some men think, call for a national fast, as a more seemly 
 service ; and our praises will ascend largely from desolate house- 
 holds and sorrowing hearts. Nevertlicless, a thoughtful christian 
 will find, even in our present circumstances, abundant occas- 
 ion of praise. Though suflfering many things, yet many blessings 
 remain to us. Our national aspects might be much worse than 
 they are. Surely it is a matter of praise before God, that, through 
 the length and breadth of our land, the cities are not smouldering 
 ruins, and the fields red with blood ! Even this thought were 
 enough to inspire our thanksgivings. But my text gives us 
 another and a better ; for it teaches us to regard even our disast- 
 
9 
 
 ei's as niercifnl, and to find occasion of jnaisc. ovoii. in the scfiii- 
 ing judgments of" God. 
 
 The text speaks of the benefits of a pruning-kmfe \ — of iirocosscs 
 of cutting, with a purpose of good ! And such, it is the privilege 
 of faith to believe, are the afflictions' we are experiencino- • we are 
 to regard this sword of war as but the divine pruning-knilV;, purg- 
 ing unto greater faithfulness a grand vine (,)f (lod's planting. 
 Of course, we are not thinking to speak of war as, self-considered, 
 a blessing. Oh no ! God forbid ! For according to all the teach- 
 ings of His word it is evil, and evil only. Nevortheless, in all the 
 histories of God's dealings with nations, war is the very evil by 
 which He hath wrought out their good. 
 
 Sure we are, God permits it, overrules it, manages it for His 
 own glory. We may find fault with it, abhor it, anathematize it, 
 pray against it ; yet, as believers in a divine Providence, we 
 must accept it as a divine dispensation toward us — either purely 
 a judgment^ — or a judgment meant mercifully — i.e. — either an axe 
 at the root of an evU tree to be cut down — or a pruning-knife amid 
 overgrown branches, thai there may be increase of the fruit. 
 
 But there is no man here prepared to regard these disas- 
 ters as positively destructive. Surely, God hath not yet laid his 
 devouring axe at the root of the tree ! We are afflicted indeed ; 
 we are in straits ; and the nations of the earth laugh us to scorn ; 
 as if the divine Feller had gone forth against our glorious tree, 
 whose leaves were fair, and whose fruit much, and whose branches 
 gave promise unto children's children, and unto the children of 
 strangers, of a blessed shelter to the end of time ; of this 
 goodly tree, declaring : — " Behold I will hew it down, and 
 cid off its branches, and shake off its leaves, and scatter- its frail; 
 therefore, let the heas/s get away from under it, and the bird.-< from 
 its branches.'''' 
 
 But we do not believe this. This American tree — this 
 grand growth of God's mountains of love — is not yet to be cut 
 down. No great nation ever perished in its youth, or on the 
 tlireshold of its progress. And we shall not thus perish. Indeed 
 this tree is not evil that God's axe should fell it. We are sick of 
 this priestly and pharisaic cant about the supreme wickedness of 
 this nation. The history of the American people, up to the hour 
 of this fearful visitation, was the purest national history the world 
 ever read. No pages, elsewhere, are so illustrated with the great 
 
10 
 1 v^ntHotism philanthropy, and 
 
 >'"'™'-/-'r .' t:::;; : arts 0%'oci.n, o..o.ious *„ 
 
 practical godliness ! bmelj w ^^ ^^^.^^^ „1^ 
 
 Line wrath ; if «°«/^J.,,''°;::/lt a mtle with us 1 And 
 ,„„„stvous de^lf'^^";',.:; tt^t „„ enAlem this day is not a 
 therefore, we judge -""""""y *^'^°,^„,.,,,, ,„d bringing forth no 
 great tree, which hav„,goengcuU„ ^^, ^^^^^.^,^,^g ,,, ^ ^ut 
 
 fruit, or fru.t only ev I, ;;!^r;,\^^ ,, ,,„tiness of its growth. 
 
 "::::;« wi,,.urs.«.-en,.^^ 
 
 discourse-that these aflhct.ons -'^'^^^ j^nefioent i^uning- 
 „„, ,„,. una God: *-*-°^7. "f t,*„uuderstanlhow,iu 
 tnife. Fo>- ->-ly tl^- '^ ™-ITce here i often a great blessing 
 ,,e wordings of ^™-|--<'; .^Tcurse of ,*.• sprang the 
 even in a «"'■««-'''''" ""J ,^, ^ d,<^A, the great evil, did 
 great blessing '"''"f *7'" ,, ' "Iflnite o-ood ! And thus, in re- 
 Christ accomplish '■*»P"°",^^";;^l"';:i;;:ip,es,.f human nature, 
 gardotthisscourge-wa. l ^ ^ l commercial prosperity, 
 developed by long contined-tcu^^^ ^^_^^ ^_^^ _^ 
 
 more to be feared than tlio. ^^_^ ^,^^.^^^^1 ^^^,,. 
 
 patriotic battle; and as we '™\f3V„„.i„. ,vils which this 
 acter, we shall ^'-^f'^rrr i d":i'-^:er|.-own branches of 
 
 sidev a few c.f them. And 
 
 F„s.-Co.e<o».n«-that fouMust of Manimoj^^^ 
 
 .,ehovah ranks -"^.f-'^^^'-X to 1 1- timeof this visitation, 
 ,vil thing in the nndst f "^'^ „;,.„„ people on earth, 
 we were fast '^^'^ Jf^j:, oiuclvilLiio: that we were 
 So intensely material had b,c , |,.„,„ ^nd sentimental bar- 
 ,,„pfedtosaytl.teventh^,W^^^^^^ 
 
 barism were bette.. i , ^ .^^gt of all social 
 
 birth and blood, we w<-re l^anguia mg ^ ^^,y_ ,,,. 
 
 .^^s-.n..^su..^^c^^^^^^^ making, had become 
 „i„g, anything, ''^'-J**"' J Ability ^'M was fast becoming 
 ..rounds ■''■«'-."; ;->r:r*^ltn;ro.led our franchises, elected 
 
11 
 
 unto the world, and consciously unto oui'selves, we were fast sink- 
 ing into the unleavened sordidness of avarice ; and this insane 
 greed of gain was working our ruin ; for by an immutable law of 
 life, wealth begets luxury, and luxury palsies the strength and digs 
 the grave of nations. 
 
 Now I need not pause to show philosophically and historically 
 how war is naturally, and hath ever practically proved itself, the 
 antagonist of covetousness. Not only does it destroy the idol, by 
 consuming its substance, but it destroys the idolatry, by calling 
 into play higher social instincts — the craft, the subtlety, the sor- 
 didness of unscrupulous avarice giving place to the self-denial, the 
 self-sacrifice, the chivalrous daring of patriotism and soldiership ; 
 and thus, evil as it is, it is yet the smaller of two evils. Better a 
 thousand times the wild torrent from the mountains, sweeping 
 away the corn and vines of the thrifty husbandman, than the stag- 
 nant morass breeding deadly malaria ! Even these blasts of war 
 quicken some of our better impulses. We feel now that life has 
 nobler aims than to build fine houses, and drive fast horses, and 
 beautify large estates, and leave much wealth unto children — that 
 courage, and manliness, and patriotism, and the preservation of a 
 strong national life, and the compelled respect and homage of the 
 world are of more worth than all the prizes grasped by the with- 
 ered hand of avarice ! The result, at least, is certain. Our golden 
 god is being fast crush<^d under the iron chariot of conflict — the 
 dust of our molten calf is making life's waters bitter. Our vine 
 was wasting its vigor in an overgrown branch of covetousness ; 
 and Jehovah is pruning it with His terrible knife — War ! 
 
 Secondlt — Lawlessness — a wide-spread, popular independence 
 of, or restlessness under, wholesome restraint, was another of our 
 fast growing evils. Our liberty, through its very greatness, was 
 fast becoming license. Many of our laws lay dead letters in the 
 statute book. Property and life, in our midst, were fearfully in- 
 secure. Even family government — the great source of all civil 
 restraint — was fast disappearing, under the practical working of 
 the Young-American theory of exclusive self-government. To the 
 philosophic statesmen of Europe our free institutions seemed 
 tending to anarchy. There appeared in our body-politic no resist- 
 less central power, to control and conserve. Ilcuce arose, not un- 
 naturally, in our midst this grand heresy of State sovereignties — 
 
12 
 
 the lawlessness of the individual man becoming the lawlessness of 
 the masses — the selfish individualism of the old colonial and con- 
 federate eras, transmitted as hereditary virus, to disorder the 
 functions of the new constitutional life. It has disordered it from 
 the first. This war is to be regarded scarcely as a new thing. 
 We were not at peace before. For the last fifty years the condi- 
 tion of these States has been a mighty composite antagonism — a 
 seething caldron wherein mingled all elements of hot strife. Wit- 
 ness our national legislature ; our national elections ! What 
 scenes like the barbaric conflict of armed champions in our na- 
 tional Capitol ? What excitements like the mingling tides of 
 armed battle in the exercise of our franchises 1 What tearful 
 questionings of our political future at home ! What exulting pro- 
 phecies abroad of our hastening destruction ! And do you think 
 to call all this a condition o^ peace ? Alas, no ! It was at best 
 but an armistice — the peace only of a millennium wherein the 
 lamb's heart was chill with terror, and the recumbent lion was but 
 crouching for his spring ! This war is not the creation of our day 
 nor of our generation. It is but the development of latent ele- 
 ments, mighty from the first. It was, even then, a war of hot 
 breath, of angry words, of wrestling opinions — the strife of fierce 
 and untamed spirits ! — the scattering, in our fair heritage, of the 
 fabled dragon's teeth, of which these bristling bayonets of armed 
 men are but the natural harvest. 
 
 I repeat it. Impatience of restraint has been our great national 
 evil. It grew with our ever-growing idolatry of popular sove- 
 reignty, and culminated in this inevitable heresy of State sover- 
 eignty. For a heresy it is ; its absurdity is apparent in its 
 simple statement. The very word " Constitution " implies the 
 vital connexion of parts in the same body — the condition or laws 
 of one individual, indivisible, organic life. If therefore, our Fed- 
 eral Union be no more than a conglomerate of States, rounded by 
 outward pressure and cemented by selfish interests, then it never 
 had a constitution, nor has it any thing to glory in ; for the " Six 
 Nations of Indians " confederated for purposes of mutual defence, 
 and roaming in lawless savagcness their native wilds, were as 
 truly and nobly a " North American Republic," three hundred 
 years ago. 
 
 Surely this theory of government was false ; and its inevitable 
 
result was sharp sectional antagonism. For what, as thus consid- 
 ered, was our nationality ? A constellation of States, held omni- 
 potently together by a supreme central law, and revolvino- in 
 beneficent harmony through the firmament of heaven ? No, indeed. 
 It was only a kennel of States, hunting their prey together throu"-h 
 a wild jungle of compromises, ready to part at a moment, if their 
 paths separated, or to spring madly at each other's throats, if 
 those paths crossed 1 And why should not our national legislature 
 be a scene of barbaric strife, and the exercise of our national fran- 
 chises convulse the whole land 1 
 
 This unconstitutional lawlessness was a terrible evil ; and the 
 natural result — yea, the positive and grand design of this war is 
 forever to remove it. In its origin in the popular American mind 
 and heart it had no meaner, no other end. It was not a war for 
 pride, for passion, for gain, for conquest, for selfish interests, for 
 personal ambition, for the jealousies of States, or the rivalries of 
 regions. Oh no 1 It was a war simply for constitutional life — 
 constitutional government — for the enthronement of national law 
 — one resistless, controlling, central power — one great, sympathiz- 
 ing, supreme popular heart, sending through the whole body-politic 
 the tides of a common healthful life 1 This was at least its aim, 
 and if it accomplish anything, this must be its end. For, whatever 
 else we may lose in this fiery trial, if we come forth with a 
 national life at all, it will be with a common, mighty, constitu- 
 tional life — a government not only the freest and fairest, but the 
 most immutable and irresistible the world ever saw. Thereafter 
 forever, will Law, as a tremendous and inexorable power, be en- 
 throned in the midst of us ; and we shall be law-abiding and blest. 
 Our vine of Liberty was shooting forth a monstrous branch 
 of license, and Jehovah is pruning it with his fearful knife — War I 
 
 Thirdly — Political Atheism was another, and the most terrible 
 of our fast growing evils. Under the specious plea of separating 
 Church and State, we were attempting a practical divorce of God 
 and our Government. We were not merely irreligious ; we had 
 become infidel ; we were fast becoming atheist. The divine law 
 was not recognized in our high places of authority ; the divine 
 favor was scarcely regarded among our elements of prosperity* 
 Nay, so positively idolatrous had become our trust in our wonder- 
 ful nationality that we regarded it not only independent of divine 
 
14 
 
 purposes, but indispensable to them : — " "Where " cried the infidel, 
 " shall God raise up an instrument to destroy us ? " — " How" cried 
 the believer, " shall God evangelize the nations without us ? " 
 
 And this political atheism which has destroyed so many- 
 nations, and will destroy any nation, was growing on our fair na- 
 tional vine like a monstrous fungus ; it was eating out its strength 
 and destroying all its fruit. And by this war God is pruning it. 
 We are learning, we have learned, once for all, and thor- 
 oughly, that our national salvation depends neither upon polit- 
 ical sagacity, nor military strength, but solely on the protection 
 of thq,t great Arm that ruleth in Zion ; that, indeed, all those ma- 
 terial resources and social influences, we regarded as our strength, 
 are, without the divine blessing, only so many elements of disas- 
 ter ; that all these bonds of national union, we had pronounced in- 
 dissoluble, this grand geographical unity, this intimate association 
 of our broad industrial and commercial interests, this prouder part- 
 nership in our land's blessed memories and glorious hopes ; yea, 
 even that tenderer brotherhood of kith and kin, rocked in the same 
 cradle, nourished in the some household ; that all these, and what- 
 soever else had seemed as bands of triple steel round our beloved 
 confederacy are but as a spider's web, when an incensed God turns 
 away from us the light of His countenance. God is teach- 
 ing us, not merely lessons of political wisdom, but, as well, great 
 ethical and theological lessons, and he will bring us forth from the 
 trial, as gold purified by the fire ; not the old, boastful unbeliev- 
 ing nationality, but a reverent and christian people whose God is 
 the Lord 1 Our vine was shooting forth rank branches of atheism 
 and Jehovah is pruning it with his sharp knife — War ! 
 
 Now, time would fail me to pursue this thought further. There 
 are manifold other evils from which this war will deliver us ; but, 
 inasmuch as they are either smaller or sectional, and obvious to 
 every thoughtful man, we need not consider them. Indeed, we 
 have brief space left for the remainder of our subject. Thus far, 
 we have considered only the text's negative aspects — the evil 
 growths of which the divine Husbandman is ji^'uning us. But the 
 text has a positive, and not less important aspect — the improved 
 fruit which, ivith pruning, the great vine will produce Of these 
 overgrown branches "He purgeth it, that it may bring forth 
 more frxiit." 
 
15 
 
 Glancing, then, hastilj^ at some of the positive results this fear- 
 ful war promises, we mention, 
 
 First — A nobler style and type of manhood. 
 
 This is indeed implied in what we have said of the qualities of 
 character this conflict is developing. In this regard, the American 
 vine bore precious fruit from the first. History has no nobler 
 page than onr old colonial record — no story of truer heroism, of 
 character better fitted by lofty qualities to do man's noblest work. 
 Verily, God gathered out of Christendom the choicest specimens 
 of the race to plant in this western husbandry. Yet it was but 
 the old manhood after all. Every colonist remained still a part of 
 his ancestral nationality. We were still distinct races ; each with 
 its own father-land of grand hopes and memories. Wo were a con- 
 glomerate of all peoples and not composite Americans. But even 
 this we are now becoming. Fighting together for the same great 
 ends, bearing each other's burdens, binding up each other's wounds, 
 struggling and suffering together unto death, mingling tears and 
 blood in one common conflict for a common home and heritage un- 
 to children's children, we are fast becoming one people, with all 
 our noblest affections rooted in the same common land of precious 
 memories and glorious hopes. Through this sore fellowship of 
 suffering we shall be hereafter a composite. And a priceless com- 
 posite it will be — like the celebrated Corinthian brass, an amalgam 
 of all metals — when the best qualities of the iron Saxon, the vola- 
 tile Frenchman, the grave Spaniard, the reflective German, the 
 effervescing Italian, and the warm-hearted Irishman shall be har- 
 moniously blended in one type of American manhood. 
 
 And doing this, as this fierce conflict is, and meanwhile, as we 
 have seen, calling into play all our higher social instincts — instead 
 of the greed, the craft, the sordid selfishness of avarice, substitut- 
 ing the self-denial, the self-sacrifice, the lofty aims and ambition, 
 the chivalrous daring of patriotism and soldiership — doing all this 
 and more — it is evidently developing a style and strength of Ame- 
 rican manhood, full of all noble and heroic impulses, worthy of 
 our ancestry and traditions, in whose reckonings the accumulations 
 of industry, the gains of commerce, the ends and aims of mean and 
 selfish ambition ; yea, all life's smaller and lowlier things, yea, life 
 itself, our own life, our children's life, will seem only as the dust of 
 
16 
 
 the desert, when the stake of the mighty game is a great imperial 
 and christian nationality. Surely, in this respect, will God's 
 primed vine bring forth nobler fruit ! 
 
 Secondly — It will bring forth a new style and type of civil free- 
 dom. 
 
 It is a popular mistake to regard liberty as one absolute and 
 immutable thing. There are as many ideas and forms of liberty 
 as of religion. There was the old patriarchal liberty and the 
 old theocratic liberty, and the fierce old Grecian and the stern old 
 feudal liberty. There is to-day, the old English liberty, and the 
 French liberty, and the Swiss liberty, and the Central and South 
 American liberty. And in this direction there has ever been pro- 
 gress. After centuries of struggling with imperial despotisms, the 
 race achieved for itself the grand old feudal liberty — a noble com- 
 posite of historic growth — the equilibrium of immense and antag- 
 onistic social forces — the harmony of compromise and counter- 
 poise amid the mingling and mighty elements of state — a limited 
 monarchy, a limited oligarchy, a limited democracy, all mutually 
 modifying and moulding each other into grand forms of free social 
 life. And this perhaps, till now, has philosophic statesmanship re- 
 garded as the freest possible social system consistent with strong 
 government ; and therefore as the last and best form of popular 
 civil liberty. The fair old Grecian dream of true equality and fra- 
 ternity, a condition of liberty without feudal antagonisms, a govern- 
 ment tridy representative, republican — i. e. — absolute self-government 
 — seemed in theory beautiful, but practically absurd. It might ob- 
 tain for a time. It might work wonders for a brief season, and 
 upon a narrow field, and amid serene pastoral holidays, but would 
 surely be resolved into anarchy by the first wild ministry of conflict 
 and storm. And therefore, in the opinions of wise men this new 
 form of American liberty seemed destined to perish. European 
 Sanballets mocked it with the old sneer : — " Wherefore do these 
 men build ? Verily if a fox go up he will break down their stone 
 wall." Nor had our American Nehemiahs much of the old pro- 
 phetic hopefulness. From the last days of Washington, unto the 
 days remembered by our chihlren did that noble race of states- 
 men (alas they have passed away and left no succession !) lift up 
 voices in solemn warning, enduring unto the end the taunt of 
 
17 
 
 being " alarmists," and " union savers," just because they per- 
 ceived that the very greatness of our liberty was its most terrible 
 attribute, and believed that such storms of civil strife as the old 
 staunch, kingly ships of state could weather, would drive our fairer 
 but frailer bark hopelessly into shipwreck. Yes, and they died, 
 every one of them, though in the fulness of their fame, yet with 
 eyes dim and souls darkened in the shadow of evil things seemingly 
 coming on their children. 
 
 Indeed, for half a century, the great American heart has beaten 
 intermittingly and convulsed under this dread incubus of Disunion. 
 Men have felt, if they did not confess, the fear that the holy and 
 beautiful house of our fathers, wherein are treasured all our 
 blessed memories, and cradled all our glorious hopes, was built of 
 brick piled without mortar, which the first throe of civil strife 
 would rock hopelessly into ruin ; that though this self-government 
 might serve our purpose in times of peace, and even lead us in 
 triumph against all foreign aggression, yet it would bo blown hope- 
 lessly into anarchy by the first fierce breath of a great civil con- 
 vulsion. 
 
 But how seems this thing now ? Why, we are this very hour 
 governing ourselves even better than before, positively more scru- 
 pulously law-abiding, more observant of all ordinances guard- 
 ing property and life ; and this over a breadth of territory which 
 no feudal despotism could control ; and in the face, yea, amid the 
 very throes of the most terrible civil convulsion the world ever 
 saw. Verily, the exhibition we have just made of our matchless 
 franchises — calmly electing our Chief Magistrate amid the excite- 
 ments of a war like this — with all our cabals and factions, and un- 
 principled appeals and malignant attacks upon character, and the 
 selfish ambition of leaders, and the roused passions of the masses, 
 with our great cities filled with a reckless populace, and the land 
 swarming with armed men ; and yet, the whole agitated nation, as 
 quietly as before appealing and submitting to the decision of the 
 ballot-box — this, I say, proves that an intelligent self-gov- 
 ernment is possible in any and all popular conditions, and is 
 positively the strongest and most steadfast of all governments ; 
 that men born and bred with the most extravagant notions of civil 
 freedom, are not driven into anarchy, but only compacted and con- 
 solidated by great civil pressure ; that they will restrain them- 
 selves, tax themselves, conscript themselves, yea, to the last farth- 
 
 B 
 
18 
 
 ing and drop of blood sacrifice themselves, yielding implicitly to 
 that invisible thing — Law, moving, each in his own sphere, and 
 achieving his own task, scrupulously observing all civil ordinan- 
 ces and social customs, amid elements of convulsion that would 
 have shaken into fragments the mightiest feudal despotism on the 
 face of the earth ! 
 
 We say then, this war is developing the last grand type of free 
 government. It is dispelling all doubts as to its possibility and 
 permanence. It is proving that the fair old Grecian liberty was 
 not a distempered dream, but a divine type, yea, prophecy of the 
 popular, civil perfection to which, in the latter day glory, 
 christian manhood shall attain. Surely then, in this regard also, 
 will God's war-pruned vine bring forth precious fruit. 
 
 Thirdly — It will bring forth a new style of Christianity. 
 
 After what has been already said you will not mis-understand 
 me to speak of war as, self-considered, favorable to Christianity. 
 On the contrary, we hold it to be a thing, evil, barbarous, brutal, 
 infernal, between which, and the spirit of the Gospel of Christ, there 
 can be only antagonism. Nevertheless, it is under this self-same 
 law of antagonisms that God works out often His grandest purposes. 
 And in this way only, do I speak of this war as developing chris" 
 tianity. At first, indeed, this seemed impossible. We all heard, and 
 felt, and blushed at the infidel clamor, that, if the nation on earth 
 most thoroughly christianized, could thus be convulsed with civil 
 strife, henceforth, the gospel must be reckoned a failure. Yes, and 
 the gloomiest fear, at first, of the christian patriot was, like Eli's 
 not for his country, nor for his kindred, but for the ark of his God. 
 Nevertheless, we can now perceive how even Christianity will be 
 shorn of no glory, but rather illustrated and magnified as it passes 
 through this conflict. This illustration is manifold, 
 
 \qI Xyi the christian character so frequently di^layed in a pat- 
 riotic soldiery. 
 
 Fi'om the wars of Abraham, and Moses, and David, history has 
 Riothing to match with it ; and wc venture to predict that, when 
 this (C'0»fji<et ifi ended, the biographies of these christian men dying 
 for theiy ^owQtry will furnish the richest and most wonderful reli- 
 gious literatwiVJ M church ever possessed. My limits forbid an 
 
19 
 
 enlarged illustration of this thought. I can only read, in this con- 
 nexion, some paragraphs of a letter written on the eve of a great 
 battle, as a specimen of thousands which God^s grace inspired, and 
 will not suffer to perish. It was addressed by Major Sullivan 
 Ballon, of the Second Rhode Island Regiment, to his wife, the 
 night before his departure for Manassas, where, on the following 
 week he was killed. 
 
 •• Camp Clark, Washington, July 14, 18G1. 
 
 '• Mt Vert Dear Sarah : — The indications are tliat we shall move very 
 soon, perhaps to-morrow. Lest I should not be able to write to you again, 1 
 feel impelled now to write a few lines that may fall under your eyes when I 
 shall be no more. Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full 
 of pleasure, and it may be one of sorrow, conflict and death to me. " Lord 
 not Tuy will but thine be done." If it is necessary that I should fall on the 
 battle field for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack 
 of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not 
 halt or falter. I know how strongly American civilization now leans on the 
 triumph of the Government, and how great a debt we owe to those who went 
 before us, through the blood and suflering of the Revolution, and I am willing 
 — perfectly willing — to lay down all my joys in this life to help to maintain 
 this Government and pay that debt. But, my dear wife, when I know that 
 with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life 
 with cares and sorrows ; when, after having eaten, for long years, the bitter 
 fruits of orphanage myself, I must offer it as the only sustenance to my dear 
 little children, is it weak or dishonorable that, while the banner of my purpose 
 floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, underneath mj unbounded love for 
 you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce though useless 
 contest with my love of country ? I cannot describe to you my feelings on 
 this calm, summer, sabbath night, when thousands of men are sleeping around 
 me, many of them no doubt enjoying the last sleep before that of death, while 
 I am awed by the feeling that death is creeping around me with his fatal dart, 
 as I sit communing with my God, my country and thee. I have sought, most 
 closely and diligently and often, in my heart for a wrong motive in thus haz- 
 arding the happiness of all those I love, and I could find none. A pure love of 
 country, and of those i^rinciples which I have so often advocated before the 
 people, — another name of honor that I love more than I fear death, has called 
 upon me, and I have obeyed. 
 
 " Sarah, my love for you is deathless ; it seems to bind me with mighty 
 cables, that nothing but omnipotence could break ; and yet my love of country 
 comes over me like a strong wind, and bears me irresistibly on, with all (hose 
 claims, "to the battle field. The memory of all the blissful moments I have 
 spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most grateful to God and to 
 you that I have enjoyed them so long. And how hard it is for me to give them 
 up, and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when, God willing, we might 
 still have lived and loved together, and seen our sons grow up to honorable man- 
 
20 
 
 hood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon Divine Provi- 
 dence, but something whispers to me — perhaps it is the wafted prayer of my little 
 Edgar — that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not. my dear 
 Sarah, never forget how much I loved you ; and when my last breath escapes 
 me on the battle field, it will whisper your name. Forgive my many faults 
 and the many pains I have caused you. How foolish, how thoughtless, I have 
 oftentimes been. How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot 
 upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortunes of this world to 
 shield you and our children from harm, but I cannot. I must watch you from 
 the spirit land, and hover near you while you buSet the storms with your pre- 
 cious freight, and wait with patience till we meet to part no more. But, oh ! 
 Sarah, if the dead can come back to this earth, and flit unseen around those 
 they love, I shall always be near you ; in the gladdest day, in the darkest 
 night ; amidst your happiest scenes and your gloomiest hours, always — always ; 
 and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath ; or if the 
 cool air fans your throbbing temples, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah, 
 do not mourn me dead, but think I am gone and waiting for thee — for we shall 
 meet again. As for my little boys, they will grow up as I have done, and 
 never know a father's love or care. Little Willie is too young to remember me 
 long ; and my blue-eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dim 
 memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your ma- 
 ternal care, and your development of their characters, and I feel that God will 
 bless you in your holy work. Tell my two mothers that I call God's blessing 
 upon them. Oh, Sarah, come to me, and lead thither my two children. 
 
 My wife, farewell, 
 
 Sullivan. " 
 
 I will Bot trust myself to read more of these letters. The whole 
 land is full of them. They are preserved as precious memorials, 
 not of human love merely, but of love sanctified by God's grace ; 
 and when the christian soldiership they illustrate shall be em- 
 balmed in the richest biographies of earth, then will the his- 
 tory of this conflict be glorified by them, and the very gospel of 
 peace and love bo magnified in them 1 Surely the dying song of 
 old martyrdom went up to heaven from dungeon and stake no 
 more triumi)hantly eloquent of that gospel's blessed power than 
 the farewell and dying words of such christian patriots ! Mean- 
 while the gospel is magnified, 
 
 2ndly — In the christian sjnrit which this tear is developing, in 
 new agencies of benevolence ! 
 
 Ilere too, my limits forbid more than a single illustration. 
 Take this " Christian Conuuission," in whose behalf you are asked 
 this day to contribute — a miraculous creation surely of practical 
 
21 
 
 clirlstianity ! — a grand evangelical and philanthroi)ic organization 
 at once catholic and national — the whole church of Christ of every 
 name united in behalf of the soldiery of every State and section, 
 embracing in its charities, navies of hundreds of vessels, and 
 armies of a million of men, and extending its operations along a 
 war line of three thousand miles, and all this mighty christian ma- 
 chinery working voluntarily — its officers and offices and store-rooms, 
 and the regulated freedom of 20,000 miles of railway, and 20,000 
 miles of telegraph, and all government vessels, and the service of 
 more than 1,500 christian ministers and laj'men, and the immense 
 supplies distributed, freely received, freely given I Verily, here 
 is a grand catholic and national christian development in a sphere 
 and on a scale which is a new thing upon the earth. 
 
 Behold these christian men and women in camps, and hospitals, 
 and battle fields, ministering, with all a brother's, a sister's, a 
 mother's love, alike to body and soul not only of friends, but ene- 
 mies — going forth to the very men who, perhaps an hour before, 
 stood armed against themselves, their beloved ones, their country, 
 lifting them tenderly, bearing them gently to sheltered places, wip- 
 ing away their tears, their blood, binding up their wounds, assuag- 
 ing their agony ; receiving, in behalf of the living, their last mes- 
 sages of affection, and pointing their departing spirits to the great 
 and gracious Redeemer ! Yea, behold those glorious prayer-meet- 
 ings I Observe those precious religious books and tracts, takino- 
 the place of the vile old literature of the camp ! Hearken to those 
 earnest gospel sermons, those resounding hymns of praise to God, 
 superseding the old bacchanal songs of battle — and all upon fields 
 torn with shot and shell, and hi the very face of advancing squad- 
 rons ! Behold, in a word, all this softening of the horrors of war, 
 in ways and with a power, of which philanthropy never dreamed 
 — this positive carrying of the gospel of peace, in all its celestial 
 loveliness into the wildest tides of the battle, and then tell me if 
 here be not truly a new development of Christianity, and if that 
 gospel which hath hitherto achieved such triumphs in scenes of 
 blessed peace, is not now gathering trophies of more wonderful 
 beauty and power, in the dark and deadly sphere of war's frenzied 
 antagonisms ! 
 
 And thus, and otherwise is chi'istianity shewing itself, even now, 
 in new forms and power in this strange field of its ministries — like 
 an angel from heaven revealed in fairer splendor and strength, be- 
 
22 
 
 cause of tlie wild night and devouring tempest that surround it. 
 And when, in that surely coming hour, so longed for and besought, 
 these great armies humanized, evangelized by this heavenly minis- 
 try, shall return from this strife — not, as of old armies came, pro- 
 fane, dissolute, insubordinate, to fill the land with violence, and 
 pollute the airs of heaven with songs, ribald and blasphemous — 
 but armies of self-governing, self-denying. God-fearing, law-abiding 
 men, making the earth fairer w^ith their peaceful ministries, and 
 heaven's air pure and sweet with the breath of praise in these old 
 songs of Zion — bearing back that old banner borne in triumph 
 through a hundred fights, and never lowered to a foe, yet with all 
 its unfaded, undivided, constellated stars, to be cast down in 
 humble acknowledgment of God's sovereignty, as a glorious tro. 
 phy at the foot of the cross — returning with sword and spear, not 
 to be suspended, as blood-stained trophies of old conflict, in embla- 
 zoned halls, but to be transformed, even by the warrior's mighty 
 hand, into implements of peaceful life — beaten into ploughshare 
 and pruning-hook for the blessed uses of piety — then, surely then, 
 it will appear that Christianity, which before had dwelt in spheres 
 of peace, holding its serene way beside bright waters which no tern, 
 pest stirred, did walk at last a nobler path, and win braver spoils, 
 as it lifted a heavenly voice amid the thunders of war, and poured 
 light as from angel wings along the black surges of battle ! Surely 
 in this respect, as well, will God's war-pruned vine bring forth 
 more and better fruit. 
 
 But we must pause here with our illustrations. We have been 
 considering some of the more obvious ways in which divine love 
 seems overruling this awful conflict for our ultimate national good 
 — some simple reasons why we are not to regard this war as God's 
 axe at the root of our national life, but rather as God's pruning- 
 knife among the overgrown branches, in illustration and fulfilment 
 of that great law of husbandry : — " Every branch that heareth fruit, 
 He j^ur'geth it, that it may bring forth morefruitJ' 
 
 And let these simple thoughts serve to lighten our load of ap- 
 prehension and deepen the cadencies of our songs of thanksgiving ! 
 Surely our grand national life is not ended ; nay, it is as yet 
 scarcely begun, and all these sharp conflicts it is enduring arc only 
 the necessary antagonisms in the development of strength for its 
 higher walk and work ! Hitherto, our young land hath been, like 
 Jesse's youthful son, delighting, with shepherd's crook to keep 
 
23 
 
 sweet pastoral holiday ; but destined too, like David, to move in 
 loftier spheres and wield imperial influences, it must, like him, en- 
 dure, in the face of the Philistine host, the stem discipline of 
 battle ! 
 
 We judge, alike from divine providences in the past, and divine 
 prophecies of the future, that we have been raised up as a nation, 
 as the great instrument of the world's civil and spiritual regenera- 
 tion, and therefore believe that through this terrible military disci- 
 pline God is fitting us for the last great conflict of liberty and 
 Christianity against the despotisms of the world. Sure we are that, 
 if we do not perish hopelessly in the struggle, we shall come forth 
 from it in possession of a power, and with a record of achievement 
 which the monarchs of the world will not dare to despise. And 
 verily it needed just this great demonstration, of our inalienable 
 right not only, but of our inherent power of self-government — this 
 stern wakening from long, sweet, pastoral dreams — this girding on 
 of armor — this marshalling of countless men — this triumph of the 
 old flag, the old patriotism, the old undivided, unparalysed, indom- 
 itable national life over an antagonism, compared with which, all 
 foreign aggression were as nothing. It needed just this, I say, to 
 teach a gazing and gainsaying world, that, ordained of God unto a 
 grand philanthropic mission unto all people, ours is as well the re- 
 sistless power as the fixed purpose to accomplish it in the face of, 
 or if need be, against all the antagonisms of earth ! And when, in 
 God's own time, chastened into purer life and storm-beaten into 
 vaster strength by this sharp and sore discipline, with a navy im- 
 perial on the water, and an army whose measured tiead shakes the 
 land, and, floating over all upon land and sea, that old banner in 
 its place of pride, not a star gone from its field of unstained azure 
 this mighty nation shall set forth afresh on its triumphal progress ; 
 then shall we and a wondering world understand the hidden mean- 
 ing of divine love in this terrible discipline, and perceive and ac- 
 knowledge that God's blows arc in mercy, that He chastens for pro- 
 fit, that " He purgeth the vine only that it may bring forth more 
 fruit." 
 
 So at least, would we fondly hope, on this day consecrated to the 
 sweeter and fairer moods of thanksgiving. And in befltting frames 
 would we rest here this hallowed hour, not forlorn as under the 
 prophet's withering gourd, but exulting as under God's great vine 
 of the centuries — thankful for the present — hopeful for the future 
 
24 
 
 — rejoicing before God with " the joy of harvest." And when here 
 in our sanctuary, as the Jew on Mount Zion, we have paid our 
 vows to the Most High in loving consecration, then, as he returned 
 to his distant hDme, filling the soft airs of Palestine with glad 
 songs, and waking all its echoes with bounding feet, so let us go 
 forth again to our pleasant homes — dwellings hallowed by divine 
 goodness, by the words and ministries of love, by memorials ten- 
 derly sad, it may be, but cherished and heavenly of the beloved 
 dead — to those firesides where children play — to those boards 
 where kinsfolk gather, and happy voices blend — dismissing from our 
 souls all anxious cares, driving out every reptile of discontent, 
 every bird of evil omen from our bowers of peace, untroubled, rest- 
 ful, loving, joyous ; for the present, thankful, because it is our 
 own : for the future, trustful, becanse it is God's !