Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

The hymn "America" was the fruit of examining a number of music books and songs for German public schools, placed in my hands by Lowell Mason, Esq. Falling in with the tune in one of them, now called "America," and being pleased with its simple and easy movement, I glanced at the German words, and, seeing that they were patriotic, instantly felt the impulse to write a patriotic hymn of my own, to the same tune. Seizing a scrap of waste paper, I put upon it, within half an hour, the verses substantially as they stand to-day. I did not propose to write a national hymn. I did not know that I had done so. The whole matter passed out of my mind. A few weeks afterwards I sent to Mr. Mason some translations and other poems; this must have chanced to be among them. This occurred in February, 1832. To my surprise, I found later that he had incorporated it into a programme for the celebration of July 4, 1832, in Park Street Church, Boston. I have since heard it sung in many languages, more than half way round the world, the latest translation of it which I have seen being into the Hebrew. When it was composed, I was profoundly impressed with the necessary relation between love of God and love of country, and I rejoice if the expression of my own sentiments and convictions still finds an answering chord in the hearts of my countrymen.

I pray that the spirit of the simple verses may be the spirit of our people evermore.

Samuel Francis Smith, '29.

THE DIVINITY SCHOOL AND THE UNIVERSITY.

THE Divinity School in its present form is a survival in various respects of methods of education which we are rapidly leaving behind. The original idea of a course of training in theology obviously came from the thought of religion as a special and supernatural revelation. It was believed that God had communicated moral and religious truth by a kind of miraculous inspiration to individuals of a chosen race. Mankind had the result of this inspired teaching in the books of the Bible, which therefore became exclusive authority upon the subjects which it cov

ered. Prove, then, that the Bible taught a certain doctrine, and that doctrine must be taken for truth. When the Unitarians established the School at Cambridge, their writers still largely relied upon citing conclusive proof-texts from the Scriptures, and in proving elaborately that the "orthodox" proof-texts were misinterpretations of the real meaning of the "sacred" writings.

The purpose of the Divinity School corresponded to this conception of supernatural and exclusive authority. It was natural to believe that a special order of men were the custodians of the mysteries of religion. Even when advanced Protestantism, especially in its New England phase of Congregationalism, had quite set aside the conception of an exclusive priesthood, there remained the necessity of an order of men trained to thread the difficult and dangerous labyrinth of Scripture interpretation. To a generation versed in theological argument and speculation it was needful that their ministers should be able to follow back the roots of their abstruse creeds into the precise meaning of the Greek or Hebrew words of the inspired penman. Men honestly thought that by exact scholarship they could recover the precise word of God. They confidently hoped to dovetail together out of the various teachings of the Bible a comprehensive and inexpugnable system of faith.

The time-honored curriculum of the theological schools followed as a matter of course. Students of however feeble linguistic capacity must be dragged through the Hebrew grammar and enabled to know the language of paradise. Microscopic study must be expended upon single passages of the New Testament, as though eternal life or death hung upon getting the key to the most obscure thought of the apostle Paul. A whole term might be devoted to the few chapters of one of his short epistles. In the chair of Systematic Theology it was needful to retain an expert special pleader of the quality of mind that would make a great corporation lawyer, to construct and to defend "the scheme of salvation." Religion being regarded as a special and supernatural interest, the history of religion and of Christian doctrine was set apart from other human history. There was also a chair of Sacred Rhetoric, as though the art of persuasion, as applied to the composition and delivery of sermons, were apart from the work of the writer and orator.

It seemed fitting to this idea of the Theological School that it should be placed by itself. It should have separate buildings and lecture rooms and its own Faculty. Even our Harvard School was retired to the remoteness of Divinity Avenue. Its founders little dreamed of the great scientific museums that were to follow them there.

Meanwhile, something like a revolution has taken place as regards the fundamental assumption upon which the theological schools have been erected. In the minds of thoughtful persons generally, certainly among those who support Harvard University, and especially with those who care at all for her Divinity School, the idea of religion as an interest apart from the rest of human life and dependent upon a separate species of authority gives place to a vastly larger and more satisfying conception. If religion has any place in this world, it is because the universe is religious throughout. If God has ever been revealed, he is revealed everywhere, in all times, and not least of all in our time. If ancient Hebrew books are inspired to stir men's souls towards righteousness, then books, poems, orations to-day are inspired in like manner. Of all things religion least needs defenders, apologists, and special pleaders. The very tone of apology hurts a rational faith. Whatever doctrines there are, therefore, which must go back for authentication to the ipsissima verba of any ancient book, instead of appealing straight to the conscience, experience, and reason of good men to-day, are doctrines in which intelligent persons take little interest. Whatever system of theology requires learned tomes of argument and elaborate discussion of Greek and Hebrew texts, cannot hope to win the attention of Harvard graduates. Neither do men who love religion care to strain their eyes to trace a separate stream of sacred history apart from the main current, mingled of many waters, that sums up the efforts of mankind. As for "Sacred Rhetoric," we are coming to feel that the attempt to make an unreal distinction as to the character of the minister's work may threaten a loss of manly power in the pulpit.

If I seem so far to speak negatively, it is only for a constructive purpose. I have the highest ideal of the possibilities of the church and of the work of its ministers. I am a minister myself,

and the graduate of a divinity school. I desire the largest and most thorough education for ministers. I find fault with the traditional course of training, which still survives even at Cambridge, because it separates the study of religion from the rest of the university education by an unreal distinction. The truth is, that the best ministers no longer depend upon any special body of lore or mysteries that are not open to the world. Their training is not like that of lawyers or physicians, who must be specialists in certain departments. On the contrary, the best educated minister is simply the best educated man.

I shall make my meaning plain by asking precisely what the ideal of a liberal or university education is. What would a Harvard graduate like to have the University do for his son? He would like to have his son's mind trained to grapple efficiently with any subject to which he may be called to apply it. He would like to have the youth know how to express thought in fitting and persuasive language. He would like to give his son introduction to the great departments of knowledge, at least so far as to possess a modest sympathy with the original thinkers and discoverers. He would like to have his son know and enjoy the best literature of the world. But what is literature or history good for, except as it makes one a student of human life, as it not only fosters the taste, but stirs humane sympathies also? The greatest and at the same time the most practical of all studies is that of man. It is a very poor university education, therefore, that does not serve to train our student to be a lover and a helper of men. But this is not all. When we use the word university, is it not with a consciousness that we live in a universe? It is not enough to know the parts of knowledge. The student must relate them together till he is possessed with the sense of the unity which they work together to make. This is the highest work of philosophy; for until things fit together and make oneness and significance, the reason never has satisfaction.

There is one step farther. What if we get an outward universe, however harmonious, and yet have chaos left in the realm of human life and destiny? Here is no real universe and no satisfaction to the deepest instincts of mankind. The education is not complete, in other words, the mind of the student has not found a capstone to bind together the mysterious elements of

life, till religion pronounces the universe divine and beneficent. The science, the poetry, the philosophy, the movements of history, all go towards this final result of education. Life, otherwise purposeless and insignificant, or selfish and material, now becomes moral and spiritual. The youth sees ideals above him, towards the realization of which he is ready to live or die.

We call nothing less than this a satisfactory university education. We do not call it an education merely to learn how to be more cleverly mercenary than other money-makers. We do not count it a liberal education to be separated farther than others from human sympathy. We do not call it education to learn to criticise but to lose the power to be in earnest. We do not call it a university education to go the way of the pessimists, and to reduce life to chaos and moral insignificance. But the key to a university education is in the conception of a divine universe, and the test of its worth is in lives prepared to move with willing, trustful, enthusiastic willingness on the lines of righteousness, truth, and human service. And this is the ideal education, not for ministers, but for men.

Here, then, is the ground of my protest against the traditional Divinity School. I cannot be content that students should get an object lesson in the wrong direction from the sight of the little group of buildings known as the Divinity School, set apart from the rest of the University. I am glad that Professor Emerton and some of the other instructors in the Theological Faculty have already moved into the college lecture rooms and thrown open the doors at least to a few of their courses. But I am sorry that Dr. Everett's courses should still be practically shut away in Divinity Avenue. They present precisely the kind of work which no thoughtful student in the college ought to be able to forego. It should be distinctly understood that the education is not yet complete which has not received the unifying mark of Dr. Everett's hand. I should say much the same of the best courses in the study of the Bible. There could be no more interesting and profitable work in the "humanities," and for the development of all-round men, than the courses in Bible history and literature, guided in sympathy with modern thought and needs. The current idea that such courses are for ministers, and not for men, substantially shuts them away from the ordinary student's knowledge

« AnteriorContinuar »