MORAVIAN MOTHER 7

 

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When I posted on six different aspects of Blake's thought which are congruent with practices of the Moravian Church, I neglected to write on the attitude toward war. The Moravians were long known as a Peace Church although they have not always been completely committed to pacifism. Blake's attitude toward war evolved over time also. 

As a young man Blake was not opposed to the French Revolution or the American Revolution in principle. Later in life he expressed in his poem 'The Gray Monk' the idea that the violence of war could never accomplish the goals which the exercise of justice and mercy could. At the end of The Four Zoas when "The war of swords departed", the new age of science reigned for the pursuit of intellectual war. Blake knew that "the Religion of Jesus, Forgiveness of Sin, can never be the cause of a War."

When John Wesley traveled to the Colony of Georgia in 1736 he was a passenger on a ship with Moravians who like Wesley were  journeying as missionaries. Wesley made this observation of his fellow passengers:

"And every day had given them occasion of showing a meekness which no injury could move. If they were pushed, struck, or thrown down, they rose again and went away; but no complaint was found in their mouth. There was now an opportunity of trying whether they were delivered from the Spirit of fear, as well as from that of pride, anger, and revenge." 

This is testimony to the spirit of pacifism exhibited by Moravians during the lifetime of Blake's mother. William would have learned from his mother that one need not react against attacks if one were guided by mercy, peace and love within.  

On The Flaming Heretic blog Craig D. Atwood wrote of the history of Moravian pacifism: 

"The Brotherly Agreement they signed in 1727 stipulated that they would seek to live in peace with all people. Disputes were to be settled through conversation rather than violence."

"Some of the younger Moravians in Pennsylvania and North Carolina did enlist in the revolutionary army and were allowed to rejoin the church after the war."

"For four hundred years the Moravian Church maintained a fairly consistent peace witness, but this was largely forgotten during the titanic conflicts of the past two centuries." 

Read of the first Fourth of July celebration. 

Songs and Ballads, (E 478) 

 "Morning

To find the western path
Right thro the gates of Wrath
I urge my way
Sweet Mercy leads me on
With soft repentant moan         
I see the break of day

The war of swords & spears
Melted by dewy tears
Exhales on high
The Sun is freed from fears     
And with soft grateful tears
Ascends the sky." 

Songs and Ballads, (E 489)

  "The Grey Monk 

I die I die the Mother said
My Children die for lack of Bread               
What more has the merciless Tyrant said
The Monk sat down on the Stony Bed              

The blood red ran from the Grey Monks side 
His hands & feet were wounded wide
His Body bent his arms & knees
Like to the roots of ancient trees

His eye was dry no tear could flow
A hollow groan first spoke his woe 
He trembled & shudderd upon the Bed             
At length with a feeble cry he said

When God commanded this hand to write
In the studious hours of deep midnight
He told me the writing I wrote should prove     
The Bane of all that on Earth I lovd            

My Brother starvd between two Walls
His Childrens Cry my Soul appalls
I mockd at the wrack & griding chain            
My bent body mocks their torturing pain         

Thy Father drew his sword in the North
With his thousands strong he marched forth      
Thy Brother has armd himself in Steel           
To avenge the wrongs thy Children feel          

But vain the Sword & vain the Bow 
They never can work Wars overthrow
The Hermits Prayer & the Widows tear
Alone can free the World from fear

For a Tear is an Intellectual Thing      
And a Sigh is the Sword of an Angel King 
And the bitter groan of the Martyrs woe    
Is an Arrow from the Almighties Bow

The hand of Vengeance found the Bed        
To which the Purple Tyrant fled
The iron hand crushd the Tyrants head 
And became a Tyrant in his stead"           

Milton, Plate 1, (E 95)

"I will not cease from Mental Fight,
     Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand
     Till we have built Jerusalem,                     
     In Englands green & pleasant Land."  

Jerusalem, Plate 52, (E 201) 

 "But you also charge the poor Monks & Religious with being the
causes of War: while you acquit & flatter the Alexanders &
Caesars, the Lewis's & Fredericks: who alone are its causes & its
actors.  But the Religion of Jesus, Forgiveness of Sin, can never
be the cause of a War nor of a single Martyrdom.
  Those who Martyr others or who cause War are Deists, but never
can be Forgivers of Sin.  The Glory of Christianity is, To
Conquer by Forgiveness.  All the Destruction therefore, in
Christian Europe has arisen from Deism, which is Natural
Religion.                          

  I saw a Monk of Charlemaine                       
Arise before my sight 
  I talkd with the Grey Monk as we stood            
In beams of infernal light

  Gibbon arose with a lash of steel                 
And Voltaire with a wracking wheel
  The Schools in clouds of learning rolld           
Arose with War in iron & gold.

  Thou lazy Monk they sound afar                    
In vain condemning glorious War                     
  And in your Cell you shall ever dwell             
Rise War & bind him in his Cell.

  The blood. red ran from the Grey Monks side
His hands & feet were wounded wide
  His body bent, his arms & knees          
Like to the roots of ancient trees

  When Satan first the black bow bent
And the Moral Law from the Gospel rent
  He forgd the Law into a Sword
And spilld the blood of mercys Lord.
     
  Titus! Constantine!  Charlemaine!                 
O Voltaire! Rousseau! Gibbon! Vain
  Your Grecian Mocks & Roman Sword                  
Against this image of his Lord!

  For a Tear is an Intellectual thing;               
And a Sigh is the Sword of an Angel King
  And the bitter groan of a Martyrs woe              
Is an Arrow from the Almighties Bow!"

Jerusalem, Plate 65, (E 216)

"Then left the Sons of Urizen the plow & harrow, the loom
The hammer & the chisel, & the rule & compasses; from London fleeing
They forg'd the sword on Cheviot, the chariot of war & the battle-ax,
The trumpet fitted to mortal battle, & the flute of summer in Annandale
And all the Arts of Life. they changd into the Arts of Death in Albion.
The hour-glass contemnd because its simple workmanship.
Was like the workmanship of the plowman, & the water wheel,
That raises water into cisterns: broken & burnd with fire:
Because its workmanship. was like the workmanship of the shepherd. 
And in their stead, intricate wheels invented, wheel without wheel:
To perplex youth in their outgoings, & to bind to labours in Albion
Of day & night the myriads of eternity that they may grind
And polish brass & iron hour after hour laborious task!
Kept ignorant of its use, that they might spend the days of wisdom
In sorrowful drudgery, to obtain a scanty pittance of bread:
In ignorance to view a small portion & think that All,
And call it Demonstration: blind to all the simple rules of life.

Now: now the battle rages round thy tender limbs O Vala
Now smile among thy bitter tears: now put on all thy beauty      
Is not the wound of the sword sweet! & the broken bone delightful?
Wilt thou now smile among the scythes when the wounded groan in the field?
We were carried away in thousands from London; & in tens
Of thousands from Westminster & Marybone in ships closd up:
Chaind hand & foot, compelld to fight under the iron whips       
Of our captains; fearing our officers more than the enemy."

Four Zoas, Night IX, Page 139, (E 407)

"Urthona is arisen in his strength no longer now
Divided from Enitharmon no longer the Spectre Los                
Where is the Spectre of Prophecy where the delusive Phantom
Departed & Urthona rises from the ruinous walls
In all his ancient strength to form the golden armour of science
For intellectual War The war of swords departed now
The dark Religions are departed & sweet Science reigns           

                  End of The Dream" 

 MORAVIAN MOTHER