Old Wine and New: Occasional Discourses

by Joseph Cross

But is there not something still better, which ought to be an element in every process of human education? What is man? Merely an intellectual animal? Nay, but he has a spirit within him allied to angels and to God. The higher nature calls for culture no less than the lower. To the development and discipline of the rational and æsthetic faculties must be subjoined "the nurture and admonition of the Lord." Otherwise we educate only the inferior part of the man, and leave the superior to chance and the Devil. Make scholars of your children, but do not omit to make them Christians. Lead them to Parnassus, but let them go by the way of Calvary. Conduct them to Olympus, but let them carry the dew of Olivet upon their sandals. Make them drink deeply from the wells of human wisdom, but deny them not the living water whereof if one drink he shall never thirst again.

Why should a "wise master-builder" hesitate to connect religion with science and literature in the edification and adornment of the soul? Does not religion favor the most thorough mental discipline and contribute to the harmonious development of all the spiritual powers? Does not Christianity stimulate the mind to struggle against difficulties, ennoble the struggle by investing it with the dignity of a duty, and render the duty delightful by the hope of a heavenly reward? "Knowledge is power;" but what knowledge is so mighty as that which Christ brought from the bosom of the Father? Poetry and philosophy have their charms; but what poetry is like that of the Holy Spirit, and what philosophy like that of redeeming love? God's holy evangel enlarges and strengthens the mind by bringing it into contact with the sublimest truths, and making it familiar with the profoundest mysteries. It rectifies our perverted reason, corrects our erroneous estimates, silences the imperious clamour of the passions, and removes the stern embargo which the corrupt heart lays upon the aspiring intellect. It sings us the sweetest songs, preaches to us the purest morality, and presents for our imitation the noblest examples of beneficence and self-denial. Under its blessed influence the soul expands to grasp the thought of God and receive the infinite riches of his love.

And shall we wrong our sons and daughters by withholding from them this noblest agency of the higher mental and spiritual culture—

"The fountain-light of all our day,
The master-light of all our seeing"—

and turn them over, with all their instinctive yearnings after the true, the good, the pure, the divine, to the blind guidance of a sceptical sciolism, and the bewildering vagaries of a rationalistic infidelity? "No," to use the language of the late Canon Melville, "we will not yield the culture of the understanding to earthly husbandmen; there are heavenly ministers who water it with a choicer dew, and pour upon it the beams of a brighter sun, and prune its branches with a kinder and more skilful hand. We will not give up the reason to stand always as a priestess at the altars of human philosophy; she hath a more majestic temple to tread, and more beautiful robes to walk in, and incense rarer and more fragrant to offer in golden censers. She does well when boldly exploring God's visible works; she does better when she submits to spiritual teaching, and sits with Mary at the Saviour's feet."

Gentlemen, it is impossible to overstate the importance of religious culture in the work of education. Every interest of time and eternity urges it upon your attention. Your children are accountable and immortal creatures. "Give them divine truth," says Channing, "and you give them more than gems and gold; give them Christian principles, and you give them more than thrones and diadems; imbue their hearts with a love of virtue, and you enrich them more than by laying worlds at their feet." Your doctrine may distil as the dew upon the grass, and as the small rain upon the tender herb; but in some future emergency of life, the silent influence shall assert itself in a might more irresistible than the stormy elements when they go forth to the battles of God. If the work be faithfully done, the impression produced shall not be that of the sea-fowl on the sand, effaced by the first wave of the rising tide; but the enduring grooves cut by the chariot-wheels of the King of Trembling as he rides through the mountain ranges, and the footprints of his fiery steeds left deep in the everlasting rocks.

Forward, then, with your noble endeavor! You are building for eternity. You are rearing temples of living stones which shall survive all the changes and chances of earth and time, and look sublimely down upon the world's catastrophe. Up! up with your immortal campanile! It is compacted of imperishable gems, cemented with gold from the mines of God. No marble sculpture may adorn its niches and cornices; but angel forms shall walk its battlements in robes of living glory. No hollow metal may swing in its vaulted loggie, sending sweet echoes over the distant hills, and charming the song-birds to silence along the flowery Val d'Arno; but richer and holier melodies, ringing out from its heavenly altitudes, shall mingle with the music of the spheres, and swell the many-voiced harmony of the City of God!

[[1]] Preached at the opening of a new college edifice, 1859.