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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.

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.

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 We confess, that this is a subject on times-the novelty, the suddenness, which it is difficult to speak; but the generality, namely, the act of that difficulty shall not hinder us diffusion. But the lasting impres- from expressing our opinion before sions are those which belong to the a Public, so capable of judging whematter. Nothing is without risk-ther it be right or wrong, whether

founded on knowledge or ignorance of human nature and its most momentous concerns.

That Education we then hold to be comparatively of little worth, which is entirely an Education of Intellect, and not at all of Will. What is all the evil of life but a disordered will? What other ignorance so mischievous-so fatal, as the ignorance of the will disturbed and darkened? From that disturbance and darkness, what dreadful passions rise up, not only to destroy all peace and all virtue in the individual whom they perpetually torment, but in league and union with kindred powers in many other hearts to agitate the whole frame of society, and lay its fairest scenes desolate! Knowledge may and does work directly towards the restoration of the will. But from that to reason generally about the importance of knowledge, is to deceive ourselves, and to expect effects from an inadequate cause. The kind of knowledge that can effectually and permanently clear and enlighten the will is soon circumscribed and defined-moral and religious. You may say, that the will cannot give religion, because religion is doctrine, and facts and truths, out of the acquisition of the faculties, and which must be declared. True-God has done his part, and given us revelation. These truths are couched in few words, and soon conveyed. Where lies the great difficulty of this knowledge but in the will, which is unrecipient-not always by direct purposed opposition, but by earth and desires of earth clinging to it, and in a way it cannot understand; palsying, as it were, the very spirit, when most eager to aspire to heaven? Is there any instance of a soul perfectly spiritual, and withal perfectly meek, that ever found insuperable difficulty in embracing the highest and greatest doctrines? So it is said-" they that will to do the will of my Father shall know of the doctrine;" that is, by the very act of willing, steadily maintained, shall acquire the knowledge. Undoubtedly the best effects of secular instruction are also of a moral kind, but indirectly, and not in the very highest degree. Many of the habits and tempers of such instruction are excellently good, It induces domesticity-it is tranquil,

sedate, thoughtful, orderly-it mixes with a father's love to his children in divers ways-partly in teaching them, as he will be by his secular instruction better able to be a religious or moral teacher to them. He who studies astronomy or natural history may find in them just grounds of adoration and gratitude. But not necessarily so-for according to the will is the feeding of the soul on its knowledge; it is poison or immortal fruits. The will hallows the knowledge, or makes it wicked. Observe, too, and we ask you to do so from no wish to undervalue Science, that the adoration drawn from speculative knowledge is much weaker than that proceeding from the personal incidents of common life. A poor man, receiving his daily meal, as he believes, from the hand that feeds the young ravens when they cry, has a stronger and more efficient sort of gratitude, than he who derives it from contemplation. Yet it is requisite, too, that the spirit which does put forth the eagle-wings of thought, should, in Intellect and Imagination, still find religion, that its great powers may be good to it, and not its bane. But we are not to begin to seek God above the stars. He is not far from every one of us."

Thus, then, there is an effect of secular instruction which works back into the higher order of effects-but not necessarily—although, when it does, most momentous. For, supposing a truly moral people, well taught for the next world, it may easily be conceived that a general diffusion of knowledge, making them an intellectually, as well as morally instructed people, would raise their whole character, as well as their whole power greatly, and be really of prodigious importance. The error, and it is one into which many philanthropists have fallen, is to think of founding on intellect, to build thereon will; the right course being to found in will, and to build thereon intellect-the right course, if there be truth in the words of the Most High.

It is not possible, therefore, for any person, holding the opinion which we have now expressed, to speak in perfect consent with the present zeal for Education. We must suppose it, in this mistaken, that it too often

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Education of the People.

overlooks, disregards, or misunder-
stands moral effects. Neither intel-
lect, nor its tuition, are necessarily
moral. This many of the most zeal-
ous educationists seem not to know.
They seem to think that intellect is vir-
tue and happiness. What is the truth?
If you try to conceive a human being
in his perfection, you, no doubt, con-
ceive him walking in the light of in-
tellect. But there are two kinds of
knowledge, objective and subjective.
Knowledge objective is knowledge
of objects in and among themselves.
Knowledge subjective is knowledge
of objects in their relation to, and as
they affect the mind knowing-the
mind or person being called, some-
what perplexingly, perhaps, by logi-
cians, the subject. Now he who is
strong in either kind commands reve
rence, and seems to be achieving the
duty of his being; but we would say,
that he who knows objectively seems
rather to walk in power-he who
knows subjectively to walk in light.
Galileo and Newton appear to us tri-
umphing spirits. The sovereign and
sole power of intellect swallowing up
their life, appears to have something
consecrating, in our estimation. We
do not ask about the will of such
men-perhaps we fear to do so, lest
we should find a flaw, some evil
lurking there that might bring down
the starry Galileo from his throne in
the skies, and shew him, like our-
selves, a child of dust. Here, how-
ever, the intellect was purely con-
templative, and the subject solem-
nizes the faculties. Take, then, Ly-
curgus, Solon, or Numa, who were
practical men, and busied themselves
with the concerns of this world and
this life. Observe, that in them we
always suppose great subjective, as
well as great objective knowledge,
or rather that they have treated sub-
jective knowledge objectively, and
that they well knew themselves, and
regulated their own minds by noble
laws. Besides, they legislated for
the public good, and thereby they
proved their virtue, and we believe
them to have been virtuous. Take,
then, knowledge, practical, objective,
and limited in its objects, such as
that of the illustrious Watt. We know
that he was a man of virtue; but we
have little or no reason for believing
that, from his merely having impro-
ved on the steam engine. He might

have been the most scientific man of
his age, and yet not a man of great
virtue-nor would our minds have
been greatly surprised or shocked,
had such knowledge and such talents
been found disunited from great vir-
tue. They command reverence, by
the power, both producing and pro-
duced; but surely a moderated and
Finally,
inferior reverence, not one to take
place of a moral estimate.
take knowledge, practical, and detach-
ed from or opposed to will, as in many
great conquerors, and we then feel
that knowledge is something altoge-
ther different from virtue. Any men-
tal power, at its height, dazzles us,
absorbs our contemplating faculty,
but may give little light on its gene-
ral moral effect. The moral effect of
knowledge merely objective, which
is that of education on common men,
seems to be this-that it amends and
raises them by drawing force of will
from common passions into a spi-
ritual power. Besides, it raises, and
in some degree amends, as it guides
them in their actions relative to
things external and objective. The
The character
injury is, or may be, that it destroys
simplicity of faith.
of the understanding of children and
of the common people, is, that feel-
ing their own knowledge to be ex-
tremely limited, they readily sup-
pose, and are ever prone to believe,
existences and powers out of their
own knowledge, and that to any ex-
tent. This is a true state of mind,
for it is a disposition representing their
Instructed men have
real power.

this not, but the reverse, a persua
sion that their present knowledge
contains reality, possibility, every
thing, which is a state in the utmost
degree false. This is the reason of
all incredulity-a prevalent temper
of the last half century, coming with
knowledge, and not yet extinguished.
Undoubtedly, by the diffusion of in-
struction, as it is contemplated, we
shall in some produce this temper,
perhaps in great numbers. The high-
est philosophy returns to the pris-
tine humility of ignorance-only an
enlightened, instead of a dark humi-
lity. It has measured finiteness in
the presence of infinitude. No man,
if ask him, "Do you know every
you
Yes, I do;"
thing?" will answer "
but, nevertheless, that is his virtual
belief. For his understanding is shut

against, and denies every thing he does not know.

Now, what is the remedy for this among the people? To have it remedied first among philosophers also by the predominance of moral over intellectual tuition. This false persuasion does not necessarily come with knowledge, but is induced by the undue excitation of self-esteem in the progress of knowledge, the annexation of the idea of self to the knowledge attained, till all know ledge lying beyond, wholly out of that attained, and especially knowledge contradicting that attained, and that which lies wholly out of it will often seem to contradict it, comes like a contradiction of self, and “is with spattering noise rejected." There is, indeed, a "Beyond," to which the knowledge attained visibly leads, but that is very different; and a glimpse of it, instead of repelling, tempts the mind onwards by the lure of light. This disposition often appears as conceit in the young, but it was a terrific vanity in an age. It is the error of the mind new to knowledge, and beginning attainment. The delusion of an age, suddenly inflated, and inflamed with an idea of immense superiority over those that have preceded. It will be the error of minds always, individual, national, secular, which in all their acquisitions, feel themselves more than their subjects. If it has arisen throughout an agethat is, in many nations at once, and has lasted a season-it does not necessarily last. It produces acknowledgment, perhaps humiliation, perhaps regret, perhaps remorse contrary revulsion of the understanding-a clearer discernment of the truth which has been abandoned or violated-a consciousness of following mischiefs to be blotted out, balanced, or expiated. Let us not speak, then, only of the common people, but of the highest instructed-the leading orders of nations-of this nation, and what is our dependence for their morality? Not precisely and singly the augmentation of knowledge, but, independently of what is given them not human, that which was formerly stated-the constitution of the human soul full of what demands morality, and the constitution of the world teaching morality -teaching it in the experience of

a

every hour. This is our moral dependence-far more than institutions which have been transmitted to us, more than opinions, than the antique authority at least of opinions, which have been inculcated upon us, and which we are zealous to inculcate, handing down their authority. Insti tutions and opinions may dissolve; but these are two living sources of good ever springing, which cannot fail. These must be our dependence for the lower classes as for the high er-not ignorance, not, if that be in any countries, the jealous, hereditary guardianship of Ignorance.

The character of the Will of a people is, that the Ideas to which it is attached are few, but embraced with strong feeling, either with passionate affections, or with habits of life revolving round and on them. Some of those ideas are presented by what is every day before them, some by national recollections, some by instruction, some, most and best, by Religion. In earlier states of society, every day presents objects to which passionate feeling cleaves with imaagination, (as in clans, or in simple feudality, their Chief,) or where every man is a warrior for his country, as among the Sabines, the Spartans, the Athenians of old or nature gives great objects blended with warlike patriotism, as in Switzerland. In common countries where this primitive state has passed, the recollection long remains; as in the ballads and traditionary poetry of a people which turn back generally to those times, and lighten up and tenderly draw the imagination, and perhaps clothe the fields and hills. Butatime comes when even this lingering dream of the old existence is swept away, and men remain with the earth, and what it can yield them, and the realities that are not of this earth. For that time it is that we have now to provide. What is there now for their warm elevated will? Certainly, first of all, Religion. Nothing else can be imagined to them very elevating. To us these can-imagination with all her works-human ambition-science. But to the poor man, it is Religion or nothing. Attend next to his domestic affections, which, without this, are strong, clear, yearning instincts-with it, are hopeful,awful, and high. It is the same with his just, wise sympathy with his fel

this.

low-men, and proper love to his country. The great difficulty, then, is to find knowledge that will take hold on the will of the poor man. In the higher classes, we do not regard Better with them, no doubt, when the instruction falls in with the character of the mind, of the intellect, of the nature, and that it embraces its knowledge passionately; for such knowledge is more effective; but it is not absolutely necessary. Instructed they must be, for their knowledge gives them their rank-makes them feel it, and for the most part, that is reckoned enough. It gives them something to talk about; a participation in the work of society, and in its discourse; and farther, a reputable occupation of a deal of superfluous time. But with the poor, or inferior man, you wish to see something more solid in his knowledgethat it should bear upon and touch himself, his character, and his trade. You wish to see in him a stronger and more appropriating feeling of his knowledge, which converts it into aliment of his strength, and of his very bodily power.

It will be asked, then, what knowledge should be communicated to the lower orders? If the question regards the subject of knowledge, we answer first and generally, the same as to the higher. If within the subject, it regards the manner of teaching it, there is this essential difference, --that as their opportunity is limited, there must be selected for them, in each subject, what is of primary importance to them as men whose lot it is to live by the sweat of their brow. Also, it is for many reasons very important, that discrimination be made in each, between what is most certainly established, and what is conjectural and doubtful, presenting to them as much as possible the first and not the second. There is this further ground of distinction, that to the lower orders, knowledge is not their business, that is, not to the great lower order, those who render the daily labour of their hands to the use of others. Their business is to render a prescribed and taught, and, for the most part, a very simple, and a uniformly recurring labour. Their calling, then, is in a great measure independent of knowledge, except what is communicated to them in it.

Knowledge to them,-except of the great truths of religion and morality, which are also a business and the same to all men,-the moment it goes beyond the humble circle in which their life moves, must be considered, chiefly, as in part recreative and restorative, and in greater part as a moral re-agent. It is otherwise with the higher orders-with whom knowledge is a business in a double sense. In the first place, there are those who devote themselves to speculative knowledge-to any branch or branches of it and with whom and in their hands, is the extension, one might almost sometimes say the conduct, of human knowledge. In the second place, the sphere of their action is high and wide, and often demands, is always much the better of, general knowledge. What knowledge is useless to the theologian, the lawyer, or the statesman, of a highly civilized country? Besides their labour, whatever their calling, is intellectual, and therefore asks that intellectual discipline, that formation or preparation of the powers of the mind, which is to be found only in contest with various high and abstruse studies. The higher classes, too, feel themselves concerned in parts of knowledge which they do not particularly study, looking upon knowledge as a great war which they are all carrying on together, where everything gained tells. To animate, cherish, point this feeling, their knowledge should be more various and extended. They should in some measure know, that they may know how to care for subjects which they will not particularly pursue.

Generally speaking, then, but with the differences now pointed out, the subjects must be the same to both; because the same worlds, the same fields, the same matter are before both-the same faculties are in both -the desires instigating those faculties into action, are naturally the same, though in these considerable difference will be made by condition. History will interest both,-and poetry, and nature. No doubt more abstract studies will to a degree also. The same feelings which turn our minds with interest on the consideration of the curious organ of the expression of thought and feeling-Language-will interest theirs also; and

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