And sometimes the clergyman does more than bless the killers—­he even takes part in their bloody work.  In the Home Office Records of the British Government I read (vol. 40, page 17) how certain miners were on strike against low wages and the “truck” system, and the Vicar of Abergavenny put himself at the head of the yeomanry and the Greys.  He wrote the Home Office a lively account of his military operations.  All that remained was to apprehend certain of the strikers, “and then I shall be able to return to my Clerical duties.”  Later he wrote of the “sinister influences” which kept the miners from returning to their work, and how he had put half a dozen of the most obstinate in prison.

#The Babylonian Fire-god#

So we come to the most important of the functions of the tribal god, as an ally in war, an inspirer to martial valour.  When in ancient Babylonia you wished to overcome your enemies, you went to the shrine of the Fire-god, and with awful rites the priest pronounced incantations, which have been preserved on bricks and handed down for the use of modern churches.  “Pronounce in a whisper, and have a bronze image therewith,” commands the ancient text, and runs on for many strophes in this fashion: 

  Let them die, but let me live! 
  Let them be put under a ban, but let me prosper! 
  Let them perish, but let me increase! 
  Let them become weak, but let me wax strong! 
  O, fire-god, mighty, exalted among the gods,
  Thou art the god, thou art my lord, etc.

This was in heathen Babylon, some three thousand years ago.  Since then, the world has moved on—­

  Three thousand years of war and peace and glory,
  Of hope and work and deeds and golden schemes,
  Of mighty voices raised in song and story,
  Of huge inventions and of splendid dreams—­

And in one of the world’s leading nations the people stand up and bare their heads, and sing to their god to save their king and punish those who oppose him—­

  O Lord our God, arise, Scatter his enemies,
  And make them fall; Confound their politics,
  Frustrate their knavish tricks,
  On him our hopes we fix, God save us all.

Recently, I understand, it has become the custom to omit this stanza from the English national anthem; but it is clear that this is because of its crudity of expression, not because of objection to the idea of praying to a god to assist one nation and injure others; for the same sentiment is expressed again and again in the most carefully edited of prayer-books: 

Abate their pride, assuage their malice, and confound their devices. 
Defend us, Thy humble servants, in all assaults of our enemies. 
Strengthen him (the King) that he may vanquish and overcome all
his enemies. 
There is none other that fighteth for us, but only Thou, O God.