I.
When I speak of instruction, I do not intend to designate certain branches of study in particular, but I refer to the whole course of teaching in each of its three degrees. I affirm, then, that neutrality in teaching is an evident impossibility, so far as it regards Christianity in each of these three degrees, and more especially in the highest grade of instruction. This could be demonstrated by running over a great number of the various branches of study; but in order to be more concise, though not less conclusive, I will speak of only two among them, history and morals, upon which no school can be silent. They will suffice to convince you that the school which is not Christian is necessarily antichristian, and that it will ever be impossible to be neutral.
Let us begin with history. If the Christian religion were a mythology, certainly we could separate it from the teaching of history, and banish it to the domain of fable; but Christianity before as well as after the Incarnation is a great historical fact; nay, it is the greatest fact of history. This fact is a living one in that religious society which embraces every nation. This living fact speaks and affirms itself divine; not divine in man who accepts it, but divine in that which constitutes its essence, in its doctrine, in its worship, and in its doctrinal and sanctifying power.
Christian teaching affirms that Christianity is a divine fact. Anti-Christian instruction denies it. What, then, can neutral instruction be? If it neither affirm nor deny, necessarily it doubts, and consequently it must teach doubt. But is not the teaching of doubt formally antichristian? The divine Author of Christianity teaches us that, in the presence of the proofs of his mission, doubt is inexcusable: "If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not have sin: but now they have no excuse for their sin." (John xv. 22.)
We will see, in a few moments, why this doubt is inexcusable; but we only affirm a self-evident truth when we declare neutrality to be impossible, because he who is not for the faith is necessarily against it, and to teach doubt is only another way to deny truth. But perhaps it will be said that neutral instruction will say nothing concerning this matter; that it will pass by the fact of the Christian religion in silence; and that, without relegating it to the domain of mythology, it will quietly ignore its existence. Now, the absurdity of this position is still more manifest, for Christianity is linked to everything in this world. We cannot take a step in history without meeting with it; if you search the annals of antiquity, of the first centuries of the Christian era, of the middle ages, or of modern times, at every age alike you will see Christianity before you, and everywhere it governs all other things from its lofty height.
The pretence of silence in this matter is therefore one of two things: it is either nonsense or it is hypocrisy. It is nonsense when it is said, as I have recently been informed it is in a certain classic work adopted by our schools, that it will contain no question about sacred history, nor about the history of the church, whether of the old or the new alliance, because these questions are all beyond the scope of history. The chain of facts which a Bossuet has unrolled in his discourse upon universal history—that marvellous chain of facts beyond the scope of history! The expectation of redemption among all the people of the globe, which is proved by the universality of expiatory sacrifices, and by foreshadowings which redemption can alone make intelligible; the establishment of Christianity in its last and definite form, its civilizing influence, its trials, its long-continued struggles, its triumphant existence—these are all beyond the scope of history! This pretended silence, then, is not nonsense, it is hypocrisy; it is only, like the neutrality which it defends, the hollow mask of infidelity.
Again, neutrality is not less impossible in the sphere of morals than in history. What is morality? It is the science of duty. By itself, it is the science of means furnished by reason to overcome our passions. Therefore to morals belong these absorbing questions: Why have the passions revolted against reason? Why does not the same beautiful harmony reign in the moral as in the physical order? Why are there, as it were, two men within us, and why do we know what we ought to do, and why do we follow the opposite? What is the cause of this deep-seated evil, which is only too well known to us all? What is the remedy for it? Where shall we find the strength to conquer this interior revolt? Where are the arms with which we can triumph?
He who knows not this knows nothing. But faith has positive answers for these fundamental questions. It teaches us that the revolt of passions in human nature is the first result of the revolt of the human mind against God; that the soul, which did not wish to submit to its Creator and its Master, has rightly suffered the uprising of its own slaves, the senses and the appetites; that, if it would vanquish them, it must humiliate its pride, lament its evil deeds, implore the grace of God, pray to obtain again its lost strength. It teaches us that by prayer we seize familiarly the divine armor, "armaturam Dei orantes" and that only by its aid can we hope to combat and to triumph. This is Christian teaching. And will not that teaching be antichristian which denies what Christianity, in this respect, declares to be true? Certainly it must, because in the teaching of morals, to be silent concerning the necessity of grace and of prayer, by which man freely obtains grace, is to make an avowed profession of antichristianity. To say nothing of the grace which strengthens our nature; to say nothing of grace, which not only strengthens, but elevates nature above itself; to say nothing of the life of grace, as if, when compared with the physical and intellectual life, there was not a far more noble life, which all men have experienced, since no one is completely abandoned by its merciful inspirations—this is not a neutral course; it is antichristian, formally antichristian.
I might prove to you here that instruction upon morals is not only antichristian when it is silent concerning the means given us by faith to conquer these passions, but also when it refuses to recognize the great motives for fulfilling our duties, for these motives are so many Christian truths. I might show, or rather recall the fact, that these truths have transformed private and public morality, that they have begotten modern civilization; and those are indeed blind and ungrateful who enjoy the fruit of this civilization, while they would miserably tear the fair tree from the hearts of their Christian countrymen.