C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Some Changes in Modern Life
By Charles Sumner (18111874)
A
In the last age, Dr. Johnson uttered the detestable sentiment that he liked “a good hater.” The man of this age must say that he likes “a good lover.” Thus reversing the objects of regard, he follows a higher wisdom and a purer religion than the renowned moralist knew. He recognizes that peculiar Christian sentiment, the brotherhood of mankind, destined soon to become the decisive touchstone of all human institutions. He confesses the power of love, destined to enter more and more into all the concerns of life. And as love is more heavenly than hate, so must its influence redound more to the true glory of man, and to his acceptance with God. A Christian poet—whose few verses bear him with unflagging wing on his immortal flight—has joined this sentiment with prayer. Thus he speaks in words of uncommon pathos and power:—
There are yet other special auguries of this great change, auspicating, in the natural progress of man, the abandonment of all international preparations for war. To these I allude briefly, but with a deep conviction of their significance.
Look at the past, and observe the change in dress. Down to a period quite recent, the sword was the indispensable companion of the gentleman, wherever he appeared, whether in the street or in society; but he would be thought a madman or a bully who should wear it now. At an earlier period the armor of complete steel was the habiliment of the knight. From the picturesque sketch by Sir Walter Scott in the ‘Lay of the Last Minstrel,’ we may learn the barbarous constraint of this costume:
Observe also the change in architecture and in domestic life. The places once chosen for castles or houses were in savage, inaccessible retreats, where the massive structure was reared, destined to repel attacks and to inclose its inhabitants. Even monasteries and churches were fortified, and girdled by towers, ramparts, and ditches; while a child was often stationed as a watchman, to observe what passed at a distance, and announce the approach of an enemy. The homes of peaceful citizens in towns were castellated, often without so much as an aperture for light near the ground, but with loop-holes through which the shafts of the crossbow might be aimed. From a letter of Margaret Paston, in the time of Henry VII. of England, I draw a curious and authentic illustration of the armed life of that period. Addressing in dutiful phrase her “right worshipful husband,” she asks him to procure for her “some crossbows and wyndnacs” (grappling irons) “to bind them with, and quarrels” (arrows with a square head), also “two or three short pole-axes to keep within doors”; and she tells her absent lord of the preparations made apparently by a neighbor,—“great ordnance within the house; bars to bar the door crosswise, and wickets in every quarter of the house to shoot out at, both with bows and hand-guns.” Savages could hardly live in greater distrust of each other. Let now the poet of chivalry describe another scene:—