The future fate of the heathen is wisely involved in mystery, and it is unsafe and useless to speculate without the light of revelation about matters which lie beyond the reach of our observation and experience. But the Bible consigns no one to final damnation except for rejecting Christ in unbelief, and gives us at least a ray of hope by significant examples of uncovenanted faith from Melchizedek and Job down to the wise men from the East, and by a number of passages concerning the working of the Logos among the Gentiles. (John i, 5, 10; Rom. i, 19; ii, 14, 15, 18, 19; Acts xvii, 23, 28; 1 Pet. iii, 19; iv, 6.) We certainly have no right to confine God's election and saving grace to the limits of the visible Church. We are indeed bound to his ordinances and must submit to his terms. of salvation; but God himself is free, and can save whomsoever and howsoever he pleases, and he is infinitely more anxious and ready to save than we can conceive.

ARTICLE VI.-BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL.

SOME years since Prof. Creasy, of University College, London, wrote his book on the "Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World." He does not include the battle of Bunker Hill in that number, though he does place in his list the defeat of Burgoyne, by the Americans, at Saratoga. It is true, he writes in accordance with a certain standard or definition, which he borrows from Hallam. By that rule, a decisive battle "may justly be reckoned among those few battles of which a contrary result would have materially varied the drama of the world in all its subsequent events." The idea of Prof. Creasy's book is an attractive one. The mind finds a pleasure in concentrating so much of human history around these few hours of destiny. But when one stops to meditate carefully upon the subject he finds a certain difficulty in the application of the theory. In periods of civil war or in struggles between opposing nations, where the contest is protracted and is marked by many distinct and successive battles, it is hard, indeed, to tell which one of these should be called decisive, or whether any one of them, separated from the others, can properly be called so. Prof. Creasy does not choose the closing battle of our revolutionary struggle to occupy a place in his select list, and if he had taken the opening one, it would certainly seem to many readers as fit for the place as the one he chooses.

In truth, it often takes a very long time to tell what is a great and decisive historical event of any kind. The landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth, a small and humble affair in itself, has been steadily growing upon the thought of the world for two hundred and fifty years, and will doubtless enlarge in its proportions as time advances. When the news of the first Bull Run battle, and its disastrous result, went through the North, we all sat down in "sackcloth and ashes." It was, perhaps, the most painful and despairing moment of the war. But, directly and indirectly, that battle stands to-day as one of the important links in the chain of causes ensuring the full

and complete triumph of the Northern army. Looking back over the whole series of events, during the four years' struggle, we could better spare many victories than that defeat. Prof. Creasy would seem, by general consent, to be abundantly justified in placing the battle of Waterloo, as he does, on his illustrious roll. But even in so important and momentous an action as that, we can very easily question whether it reaches the full and exact demands of his definition. Suppose Napoleon had been victorious in that battle, can any one be quite sure that the allied nations would have left him victorious, and would not have defeated him and deprived him of power within a twelvemonth afterwards?

We have reached the centennial year of the opening of the revolutionary struggle, and we do well to go back and dwell amid the heroic men and the heroic thoughts of that day. And it is the suggestion of one who has made our New England history a careful study, that if we would know what our liberties cost our fathers, we should make little of the "glittering generalities" of public parades and make much of our local town histories-bring out the facts as they are embodied in the records of the old New England townships, and come face to face with those stern realities. We have but recently passed through a great struggle, involving armies of such vast numbers as utterly dwarf the armies of the Revolution. But if we will search the histories of towns, we shall find that this recent war made no such demands upon the people as did this great contest for liberty, a hundred years ago. There were but few men then, of military age, who did not serve for longer or shorter periods in the revolutionary army. And the women of that period are not to be overlooked in the reminiscences of that protracted struggle. They stood in their lot, and bore the burdens of those times with more than Roman firmness-with Christian patience and self-denial and fortitude.

The action at Bunker Hill was the first in the revolutionary series that rises into the dignity of a battle. The fight at Lexington and Concord in the preceding April, the still earlier pass at Salem, and the passages at arms at Middle Island and Grape Island, can, none of them, be ranked above skirmishes, of varying importance. And the fight at Bunker Hill lacks

many of the elements of true scientific warfare.

In this battle

the Americans were, at last, defeated. The English claimed the victory, and our own people, after a sort, conceded that claim. The whole affair, at first, was not reckoned to our glory, or advantage. It was regarded by many as a rash and unfortunate opening of a struggle, that might have been warded off by patience and diplomacy. The chief actors in it were looked upon by multitudes as violent and hot-headed men, who had "sowed the wind and reaped the whirlwind."*

But now, at the end of one hundred years, as we turn our thoughts back to this revolutionary period, no battle in all the series stands out before us in such distinctness as this. Most people probably will find, if they inquire of their own thoughts, that out of all their historical readings, they somehow hold this battle in more living remembrance than any other of that protracted war. Let men, without stopping to refresh their memories, attempt to enumerate the principal battles of the revolutionary struggle, and ask themselves what they remember of their immediate antecedents and consequents, of the numbers engaged on either side, and the varying fortunes of the contending armies, and, if we mistake not, they will find themselves more at home in respect to the battle of Bunker Hill than any other. They have no such distinct impressions even of the battle of Yorktown, which ended the war, as of this, which opened it.

It is quite a noticeable fact that some of the earliest and strongest testimonials to the honor of the American side in that battle came from England. Distance did for the English observer what time at length did for us. Mr. Frothingham, in his

* "At first it was regarded with disappointment, and even with indignation; and contemporary accounts of it, whether private or official, are rather in the tone of apology, or of censure, than of exultation. The enterprise, on the whole, was pronounced rash in the conception, and discreditable in the execution; and a severe scrutiny was instituted into the conduct of those who were charged with having contributed, by their backwardness, to the result. No one, for years, came forward to claim the honor of having directed it; no notice was taken of its returning anniversary, and no narrative did justice to the regiments that were engaged, or to the officers who were in command. * As time rolled on, its connection with the great movement of the age appeared in its true light. Hence the battle of Bunker Hill now stands out as the grand opening scene in the drama of the American Revolution."-Frothingham's Siege of Boston, pp. 154–155.

*

*

"Siege of Boston," quotes from a speech of Mr. Johnstone in the House of Commons, Oct. 30th, 1775. "To a mind who loves to contemplate the glorious spirit of freedom, no spectacle can be more affecting than the action at Bunker's Hill. To see an irregular peasantry, commanded by a physician,* inferior in number, opposed by every circumstance of cannon and bombs, that could terrify timid minds, calmly await the attack of the gallant Howe, leading on the best troops in the world, with an excellent train of artillery, and twice repulsing those very troops, who had often chased the chosen battalions of France, and at last retiring for want of ammunition, but in so respectable a manner that they were not even pursued,-who can reflect on such scenes, and not adore the constitution of government which could breed such men." And there were not a few similar testimonials and eulogies from English minds; for whatever faults we may find with the Englishmen of that day or any day, it cannot be denied that they have an hereditary fondness and admiration for pluck and fair play.

For some years before 1775, the British government had been slowly and quietly concentrating a greater military force in and about Boston. Up to the year 1767, there had been a few troops garrisoned in Fort William, as was natural for any town of the size and importance of Boston. This force was not for the overawing, but for the protection of the town, and the people desired its presence. In that year (1767) an addition was made to the customary garrison. In 1768, "a body of seven hundred, covered by the fleet, landed in Boston, and with charged muskets marched to the common, amid the sullen silence of the people." A month later, portions of the 64th and 65th regiments followed. These troops were quartered in the town, but so many collisions occurred between the soldiers and the citizens, followed, at length, by the massacre of March 5th, 1770, that the troops were withdrawn from the town and lodged at the Fort. In 1773 the tea was thrown overboard. On the 13th of May, 1774, General Gage landed in Boston, under his appointment of Captain-General and Governor of Massachusetts. On the 14th of June following came in the 4th regiment—a choice

* Gen. Warren, who was supposed by many to have commanded, but did not.