Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

might easily be shewn that the imagination and the natural affections all lead us to religion.

Thus, then, if that were true wholly, which is only true in part, that Intellect leads men to Immorality and to Irreligion, there are other parts of our nature leading opposite ways; or rather let us say, if there be one inclination of Intellect to dissolve morality and religion, there are principles of our nature which will reign over Intellect to incline it to them. If religion prevail with us, so too will it incline to Political Obedience, considering governments as appointed, and reverencing the moral order which they actually maintain. Thus there is ground of expectation, of belief, that in the absolute, or general cultivation of our nature, including Intellect, the result will be good.

But, secondly, the nature of the world tends to the same result. For what is the subject of the Exercises of Intellect? The World, Natural, Moral, Visible, Invisible. Let Intellect, then, survey the Natural World. It is possible, certainly, to read causes and effects wondrously connected, and yet to see them, and nothing more. But it is also possible to see more. It is possible for our understanding, pursuing, and examining stupendous order in worlds on worlds -stupendous care in the formation of an elephant or an insect-to believe in the design, a designer. The study of the works of wisdom, power, goodness, does not seem unfitted, surely, to draw our mind to the contemplation, the acknowledgment of wisdom, power, goodness! Such men as Newtonand Linnæus, are incidental, but august, teachers of religion. Lord Bacon says, as every body knows, that a little philosophy makes men atheists, leading them to rest in second causes, but much philosophy brings them back to religion. It seems the first untaught mind steps direct from the effect to God; to the halftaught mind, philosophy has raised up an interposition of second causes, which it cannot get over; the taught mind-taught by divine philosophy -steps in its might through and over the second causes, to the same end or origin. Thus, if there be a tendency in the affection which accompanies Intellect, of pride, and selfelation, to close up the mind to the

most important truths, there is a tendency in the subject on which it is employed to open it up to those very truths. Again, from the material, turn to the moral world. In its structure are many things that perplex us. But, search it as we will, the more we search it, the more we find this clear and great law established in it,-that good follows to the doer of good, evil to the doer of evil; an observation giving infinite weight and awe to the moral law in our own minds, and leading our thoughts to a Moral Ruler. The logical inference from the world is morality.

There is, then, an argument on each side. Are they balanced? It appears to us difficult, on the arguments themselves, to say that the one or the other preponderates. Both are in themselves tendencies unlimited. But which seems, in the history of the world, to have prevailed? In ancient times, among the Greeks, the prevalence of their philosophy was to virtue. In modern times, the tendency of civilisation has been to virtue. What may be said, generally, of the historical argument, is this, that if the nation has been moraland as it has been moral-Intellect has been moral also. It has obeyed, has taken the colour of morality. In Greece it seems to have been moral far beyond the practical morality, and to have taken a moral lead. Let us see then if there be any thing else to guide us in deciding on which side the conclusion lies. Look, then, what the progress of nations has been, in any time. It has been a progress in intellectual attainment and developement. One great cause of this has been man's contest with his condition. He has laboured to conquer physical nature-to make himself as much as he might master of his lotto overcome disorder and mischief, and attain repose in his social condition-to subdue the greatest obstacle to his welfare, evil in his own heart. Now, by these efforts, have arts and sciences been evolved, knowledge of the existences and laws of nature, and hence command of her powers. Another cause, or the cause of another mode of man's cultivation,-in some countries more than in others, in all in some degree, has been the native impulse of his feelings produ

cing the arts which adorn and exalt life externally, by so shaping its materials, circumstances, and forms, that Imagination may rest upon it, may dwell in customary life; namely, in stateliness and magnificence of its decorations, such as sumptuous architecture; exalting it internally, by those arts which embody and bring into agnition to the senses its highest emotions. Necessity has not prompted, nor required such arts, but the native vigour of the soul has given them birth.

Such are two of the great origins of intellectual cultivation,-first, the ameliorating of man's condition, where he comes to be almost under the necessity of ameliorating it, by deliverance from physical and from moral evil; secondly, the yearning of the soul after its own exaltation, in the midst of its terrestrial existence. Which of these two causes would we, which are we able to put away? Neither.

Its

For the first constraint upon man to know, is, we have seen, independent of his pure desire of knowledge. But on the knowledge thus compelled, the desire feeds and kindles. materials are thus spread out before it; its acquisition has begun; it has tasted; and then its own native nobility breaks forth.

If this be the true history of what has happened, shall we not be led to say, that the question never comes to be proposed to our mind, whether it should cultivate its faculties or not? That this cultivation is involved with conditions of its existence-is inevitable-a destiny laid upon it? We cannot conceive it proposed to the deliberation of those with whom the decision remains. For it may indeed be made matter of argument, not unreasonably, among philosophical enquirers, whether the operation of such and such causes upon human nature and society be friendly or unfriendly to human welfare. But how, pray, can it be a question to mankind? To those to whom the powers belong, with whom it rests to cultivate their powers or not? They are under the influence of causes, impelling them to proceed, which they will not attempt to resist. These are they with whom the great conflict of society with natural evils rests they to whom manufactures,

agriculture, commerce, navigation, war, wealth, the administration of the laws, the government of nations, the economy of public wealth, education, religion, remain matters of paramount, and indisputable public concern the means of their own several support and advancement. Therefore, as the question might prove one difficult to argue on its proper merits, what has now been said of the history of the human mind, and of the manner in which its condition and constitution, while it simply obeys them, carries it forward into boundless fields, acquisitions, conquests, and triumphs of intellect, must certainly be received in place of an argument of the question on its merits, as an indication from Nature herself, that is, as an indication from the wisdom in which nature is framed, and therefore as a law to human reason,-that the high cultivation of the intellectual faculties should be persevered in,-and that if it has, as in some measure it has, injurious consequences, it should be confided that the good consequences are greater far, and that the moral welfare of man is to exist in the midst of his intellectual light.

The next question that arises, is, How far man should go in Intellect? Here, a very little reflection shews us, immediately, that this point also is decided. If man is indeed destined to such an intellectual life,—if his hope and his strength be undoubtedly in these pure and high endowments of his rational soul-in these works achieved-in these kingdoms won-then there remains no reason to doubt, that he is to push these conquests to the utmost,-to repel as far back as he can the boundary of ignorance and of darkness.

Supposing, then, that this too is admitted. Hitherto we have been reasoning concerning the highest enquiries. Hitherto we have not asked, what is to be the lot, the avocation, the instruction of the inferior orders of a people, of those who build in themselves the deep wide base of society, but of those who form its stately, its embellished, and its crowning heighths,-of those, whom their birth bids aspire, not in ambition of outward life only, but in ambition of thought and of the soul,-of those to whom their wealth gives Leisure and

Power,-LEISURE, the happy, if wellused privilege, of appropriating, at the choice of their own discretion, according to the best, highest, purest, wisest suggestion of their heart and understanding, the measures of the swift span of mortal existence,-of stamping on hour, day, month, and year, as it fleets by, acts of selfchosen virtuous endeavour, bright labours of useful and yet noble thought,-meditation, clothed in in Fancy's hues, and yet instinct with feelings the deepest and most solemn: POWER,-not that only which is command over the actions, the obedience, the service, the will, the happiness, the welfare and virtue of others, but power also for themselves inwardly, -power which is the command over all the means of knowledge, of living instruction as it is best given,-access to all the treasure-houses, use of the accumulated wealth of learning, science and art, which seas divide not, which shores remove not from the sufficient object of its sufficient desire to which not only all volumes of all languages, but the Book of Nature and Life is equally with them outspread, the cities and manners of men open to be seen and known, -and the sages of the earth, whereever they breathe to meditate wisdom, can be sought as companions and friends of those we speak, who to whatever rank, to whatever fortune they may have been born, to the highest, to the lowest, to the amplest and most flowing, or to the narrowest and most constraining, are yet all called by the gifts indulged to their spirit, to intellectual riches and rank-of those who thus estated, and taking their easier or more difficult way to the possession of their heritage, become the teachers and lights of the world, -become its separated, it may be said, consecrated order, and priesthood of knowledge.

Now, we maintain, that in speaking of such minds we have, in fact, treated the only question, or, we should rather say, the only portion of a very extended question, on which there is room for doubt. For, it may be doubted, on the whole of his constitution and condition possibly, what is the proper way for man to attain well-being and well-doing. But this being once determined, then, whether the proper way for one portion of

mankind to seek well-being and welldoing, is, or is not, the proper way for another portion of the same species to seek the same results, can, we apprehend, be none. They are the same nature, the same soul, on the same earth,-under the same God, the same author, disposer, ruler, guide. They are from one origin-for one end. Let it be granted, then, that this solemn Being of Intellect and Will, capable of Happiness and Misery, of Knowledge and Ignorance, of Good and Evil,—that is, of moral good and evil; and who, capable in all parts of his constitution alike of either of these alternatives, is yet called to one and not to another, is called to Happiness and Moral Good, called therewith, and thereby, and therefore to Knowledge also, and as little to Ignorance as he is to Misery or Guilt-that these Three are in connexion and harmony, and reciprocal dependence, and those Three-then we hold that these are words without meaning, or they are truths of the whole race, of that nature which is identical in one and in another throughout the habitations of the globe. It is a question not partial but universal; not superficial but profound; not of a division of the surface but central; emanating in every direction alike, and radiating to the whole circumference. What proposal of a doubt, pray, would it be to say, does natural love, as of the mother to her child, produce, in some orders, a moral purity and elevation of thoughts and wishes, in others vitiate and depress them? Does it produce in some hearts effusion of tenderness and sympathy, softening and opening them? Does it harden others and steep them in gall? Is one soul created under one law, one system of laws-another under another? Does the beating of the heart propel the blood in one living frame, and does that blood convey with it heat and life? And does the same mighty pulse in another shut up the healthful circulation, or send in its place a stream of ice and death? Does this atom of matter fall by gravity? And have we to seek some other law to account for the fall of this next?These are truly the questions we ask, when we enquire, whether in one human being, or class of human beings,

intellect is given as a power friendly to morality, a power made rightly to influence the will, which must therefore receive its food, knowledge, that it may perform its ministry: Whether in another it exists as a power dangerous and hurtful to morality, acting injuriously upon the will, from which therefore its celestial food is to be withheld?

Let it be thought what kind of contradiction any other conclusion would be in practice-what sort of prospect a nation would present, that should divide itself into the struggle, that should attempt in this manner to pull asunder its higher and its lower portions, and thus intellectually to dismember itself; of which the higher orders should seek with the utmost passion and avidity, and the utmost ambition of all their powers, light to themselves, and at the same time endeavour to maintain the darkness of the lower? How could they attempt it? How could they wall in the overflowing waters? If there were initiations in science, in temples guarded with fearful ceremonies and vows, there might be some hope to keep the secret of knowledge. But our temples are open. Our books are not written in a sacred Brahminical language, unknown to the vulgar, the patrimony of the holy caste. They are not written in hieroglyphic characters, of which the secret and sacred key is covered beneath the mantle of the priests. They are in a language which all speak, in letters which are no longer a mystery. The world of knowledge is thrown open; and the question is not with those who have it, whether they will impart, but with those who have it not, whether they will re

ceive?

If it were possible to confine it, where should the line be drawn? Are our orders so distinguished that we can define, this shall be the right of one; this of another; we will carry down this part of knowledge thus low, and this thus low, and no lower? Far from it. It is the beauty of our social state, that all its various ranks, although essentially distinct, yet all seem to blend into each other, constituting, in their union, an harmonious whole. We give to wealth its due tribute of respect, when gained by honourable means, and employed

for useful ends. We do not withhold from the inheritors of a noble name, any of those feelings with which imagination delights reverently to invest the history of an illustrious house, and if he be not unworthy of his lofty lineage, each successive representative of an ancient family. We have reason to respect the nobility and the gentry of our native land; for they of old have been distinguished by a proud and fearless patriotism. But we venerate virtue-we admire genius-we respect intellect, from whatever nook "its fulgent head starbright appears"

and as it is, after all, by mind alone that the high-born can maintain their right unquestioned to those feelings with which we are willing to regard them and their high estate; so by mind alone can the peasant lift himself up to the level of the peer, and gain to himself a name that shall rank in the roll with the proudest names that grace the ancestral glories of even a regal race. It is plain, that there is but one line we can draw, that which encompasses all. Thus, then, if it might be a question, whether the walks of knowledge should be abandoned altogether, and ploughed up, it can be none, who shall go into them. What practical question, therefore, can we ask? Not, whether we shall withhold, but whether we shall seek to impart. Not what we shall keep back, but what we shall be most diligent to extend. If we shall seek to impart? In the first place, Yes,-because we believe that knowledge is good for the human soul; and we desire, we who may be somewhat or far higher in society, we who may have some or great influence, power, deliberation for others, to diffuse Good. We wish it, in charity to those less favoured than we are. We wish it, in patriotism, that the solid welfare of our country may be built as wide as its shores. We wish it, in self-interest, that we may not feel the reaction upon ourselves of forlorn vice, the untamed and fierce ignorance of those among whom our lot is cast. If we shall seek to impart? Yes. That we may bind all together in one bond; that we may be one brotherhood. impart? Yes. That we may receive. That chill penury may no longer repress or freeze-that in open day

To

all the plants may rejoice in the sun, and give back their beauty to his light-that Genius may spring up where it has been sown-that our Miltons may not rest mute and inglorious-that as we have much to do in science, that, as although much has been done by thoughtful and erudite men, far more remains to be done that, as all sciences are imperfect, some even yet in their infancy-that as the human mind, which at one moment of discovery seems to have accomplished every thing that lay before it, and absolutely to have finished its work, at the next looks back on all it has attained, and seems to have done nothing-seeing in all its hitherto labours only the preparation and rudiments, the unformed beginnings of that last work to which it is created, and which still lies before it, almost as it were unattempted; so that one sage says, "I have learnt a little," and another says, "I know that I know nothing" -that, in this condition of human science, and looking upon knowledge as our dearest birth-right, our pride and our power, we may have all aid in acquiring it, and may be robbed of no powerful hand that can help to conquer.

But will not this raise up a power of knowledge and thought in the commonalty, in large portions of them at least, which in the higher there is now nothing to counterbalance? Let it be so for it is good. The higher must advance themselves-perhaps they need compulsion, incitement to do so. Perhaps they are negligent and indolent. But then they have every advantage-leisure, means, ambition, duty. The others will not advance too far. They have a heavy burden to carry with their knowledge. Let not men-the men of this great and free country-fear the ultimate effects of knowledge. It is a great power poured in, and will produce some commotion; but will settle and find its way to its proper places. The immediate effects are not the ultimate. At first a degree of emotion is excited; which belongs not to the matter, but to the times-the novelty, the suddenness, the generality, namely, the act of diffusion. But the lasting impressions are those which belong to the matter. Nothing is without risk

nothing great at least. But neither is it without risk to do nothing-to leave every thing alone. Certain it is, that the old world has greatly and suddenly changed. One thing is true, that injurious and corrupt abuse will not stand before an enlightened people-nor ought it. The instruction of the people will give a tenfold, but not a turbulent weight to public opinion. The danger is, not from knowledge or reason, but from the concurrence of particular changes of opinion with particular causes of political ferment, which may or may not happen. The ground of security, when the people are instructed, will be the same, as when we are. It has been confessed, that Intellect has causes of disturbance; but that they are tempered and subdued by morality. Let there be sufficient causes of the morality of the people, and intellect will not hurt them; let there not be, and intellect will not be wanted to make mischief.

That more danger is to be feared from an imperfectly educated population than from one brutally ignorant, we have never been able to bring ourselves to believe; but even if there were, that would be no argument against general Education. For it can become good only by degrees; and during the period of transition from darkness to light, during the gloaming, let the power that is in wisdom maintain the state.

It is, however, most material, in any question of Education, to know of what kind of Education we speakwhether of the very highest, or of that which is merely secular. The kind of instruction which writers on the Education of the People generally mean, is merely secular, that is, of the second order; and yet they often reason, as if it were to produce the effects proper to the very highestunlimited effects on human happiness and virtue. This introduces great confusion into the whole argument-is most unphilosophical-and, moreover, justly offensive to those who believe that such effects can be produced only by religion.

We confess, that this is a subject on which it is difficult to speak; but that difficulty shall not hinder us from expressing our opinion before a Public, so capable of judging whether it be right or wrong, whether

« AnteriorContinuar »