Old Wine and New: Occasional Discourses

by Joseph Cross

We recognize its superiority in the ineffable glory of its issues. "Lamentation and mourning and woe" follow the triumph of arms, and the land bewails the unreturning brave: the victories of wisdom are universal blessings, cheering the earth and gladdening the skies; and wherever she prevails, the desert rejoices and blossoms as the rose; and "the voice of salvation and praise is in the tabernacles of the righteous, saying, The right hand of the Lord is exalted! the right hand of the Lord doeth valiantly!" The warrior may win a splendid spoil; and the capture of vast stores and precious treasures—the acquisition of cities, kingdoms, continents—may reward his valor: wisdom "winneth souls"—more costly than all the gems of Golconda, and all the gold of California—the most magnificent structures ever reared, and the most extensive empires ever formed. The victor may feel a proud gratification in his success, but it is necessarily mingled with much of unhappiness: the achievements of wisdom afford "fulness of joy, and pleasures forevermore"—joy without any mixture of sorrow, pleasures without any interval of pain. The commendation of superiors and the applause of the multitude are often imbittered to the conqueror by the envy of rivals and the malice of foes: but the "Well done, good and faithful servant!" of the Eternal Judge shall be re-echoed by the happy universe, and the saints and the seraphim shall compass you about with songs of deliverance, and every detractive tongue shall be shut up in the bottomless pit forever. History will record your heroism, eloquence will emblazon your victory, and poetry will perpetuate your praise; and the pencil, the chisel, the temple, the towering column and triumphal arch, will transmit your fame to future generations: but the Christian's memorial is in the New Jerusalem, "the new heavens and earth wherein dwelleth righteousness"—"a new name, which no man knoweth, save he that receiveth it"—a new creation, glowing with the image of its Creator, over which the morning stars shall sing together, and all the sons of God shall shout for joy. The renown of your heroic deeds may fill the world and flourish over your grave: but wisdom shall inherit "a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." The brass will tarnish, and the marble will moulder, and the voice of the orator will go silent, and the minstrel shall sing no more in the sepulchre; but wisdom's "praise is not of men, but of God;" "and they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever." Pharaoh perished; but Moses is immortal. Ahab went down to the dust; but Elijah drove his steeds of flame through the sapphire firmament. Saul fell in his blood upon Gilboa; but the tuneful son of Jesse still leads the symphonies of the church in the wilderness, while the cherubim and the seraphim around the throne join in his choral hallelujahs. Egypt is a desert, and Babylon is a heap of ruins, and Nineveh looks sadly up from her ancient sepulchre by the Tigris, and the imperial Mother of Nations sits in melancholy widowhood upon the bank of the "yellow Tiber;" but Joseph, and Daniel, and the captive Tobit, and "Paul, the prisoner of Jesus Christ," have found "a city of habitation," "whose builder and maker is God"—

"Where age hath no power o'er the fadeless frame,
Where the eye is fire and the heart is flame!"

The Roman conqueror returned in triumph, with large display of spoils and prisoners; and a magnificent array went forth to meet him, and the populace rent the heavens with shouts of welcome, and the wall of the city was torn down for his entrance, and splendid offerings sparkled at his feet, and stately structures over-arched his head, and rich odors perfumed the air, and sweet music enlivened the scene: oh! who shall tell of wisdom's coronation in the metropolis of the universe—the unnumbered millions of the ransomed, with palms and crowns and lutes, amid the radiance of angelic beauty too bright for mortal eyes, singing as the sound of many waters and mighty thunderings unto him that loved them and washed them in his blood!

"Wisdom is better than weapons of war." Are you satisfied with the proof? Then rally to the standard of wisdom, join her forces, fight her battles, win her rewards, sing her transcendent glories, and share the blissful immunities and emoluments of her victorious veterans forever! Why do you hesitate? Are you afraid of the opinions or the speeches of others? Oh! for shame! You have plenty of martial courage; where is your moral courage? You can march up to the mouth of the cannon and rush upon the point of the bayonet; why quail you at the scoff of the infidel and the scorn of the blasphemer? Come out, come out, on the side of truth and righteousness! Enrol yourselves with the saints, under "the Captain of your salvation!" Defiant of earth and fearless of hell, put on your arms, and away to the field, and take part in the conflict, that you may have place in the coronation!

"Soldier, go—but not to claim
Mouldering spoils of earthborn treasure,
Not to build a vaunting name,
Not to dwell in tents of pleasure.
Dream not that the way is smooth,
Hope not that the thorns are roses,
Turn no wishful eye of youth
Where the sunny beam reposes.
Thou hast sterner work to do—
Hosts to cut thy passage through;
Close behind the gulfs are burning—
Forward! there is no returning.

"Soldier, rest—but not for thee
Spreads the world her downy pillow;
On the rock thy couch must be,
While around thee chafes the billow:
Thine must be a watchful sleep,
Wearier than another's waking;
Such a charge as thou dost keep
Brooks no moment of forsaking.
Sleep as on the battle-field—
Girded—grasping sword and shield:
Those thou canst not name or number
Steal upon thy broken slumber.

"Soldier, rise—the war is done:
Lo! the hosts of hell are flying!
'Twas thy God the battle won;
Jesus vanquished them by dying.
Pass the stream—before thee lies
All the conquered land of glory;
Hark! what songs of rapture rise!
These proclaim the victor's story.
Soldier, lay thy weapons down,
Quit the sword and take the crown;
Triumph! all thy foes are banished,
Death is slain, and earth has vanished!"

[[1]] Preached to soldiers in camp, 1863.