Chapter VIII (8)

A third cause of disownment, but this belongs to the original and remote, was shewn to be the pursuit of trade, connected as it is with the peculiar habits of the society and a residence in the towns. I may propose as remedies for this, first, that parents should be careful to exhibit a good example to their children. Secondly, as I have before observed, that they should prescribe to themselves moderation in the acquisition of wealth, either by relinquishing trade at a given time, or by dealing out the profits of it more liberally than common in the way of benevolence, so that their children, in each case, may never have the misfortune of the prospect of a large moneyed independence before their eyes. Or lastly, that they should give them a better education than they do at present, on which subject, according to the prescribed order of things, I am now to speak.

A fourth cause then, but this belongs also to the original and remote, was shewn to exist in education. And education, as it was promotive of the diminution of the society, was of two kinds.

With respect to that part of it which is alien, the remedy is easy. There has been great difficulty in procuring proper schoolmasters, I mean such as have been Quakers. Two reasons may be given for this. The first is, that the society having been backward in affording due encouragement to learning, few of any great literary acquisitions have been brought up in it. The second is, that persons have found, that they could make much less of their time in such a line of employment than in the way of trade. But surely the Quakers, as a body in comfortable and independent circumstances, might easily remedy the evil. Does not a man, who devotes his time to the instruction of youth, deserve to be made as comfortable as the man who sells silver utensils, or bracelets, or ear-rings, or other articles of trade? Is there any comparison between the moral usefulness of these? Is there any profession more useful than that which forms the youthful mind? or rather, is it not the most important profession in the state?[52]

[Footnote 52: It is but justice to the Quakers to observe, that they are taking more pains than formerly in the promotion of this object. I am told that there are more private seminaries now kept by Quakers for the education of the youth of their own society, than even before the institution of Ackworth school.]

With respect to the education which is acquired in the society itself, the remedy is not difficult. This education was shewn to be of two kinds.

On that part of it, which is moral or religious, I may observe, that the remedy is in the parents themselves. The first thing to be recommended is an universal vigilance over the disposition and manners of children, so that no censurable appearance, whether in temper or in conduct, may be allowed to pass without suitable notice or reproof, or that the bud, which promises to be corruptive of morals, should no sooner make its appearance, than it should be cut off. In cases of so much importance, as where the happiness both of parents and children is concerned, the former should be peculiarly circumspect. They should not talk about things, but insist upon them, on all proper occasions. They should not point out, but redress. They should not lop off the branches, but lay the axe to the root. And surely youth is the best season for such wholesome interference. It is, in the first place, the season in which a remedy is practicable; for we are assured, "if we train up a child in the way he should go, that, when he is old, he will not depart from it." It is, secondly, the season in which it is most practicable; for can we hope to bend the tree so easily to our form, as the sapling from whence it came? and, thirdly, it is the season in which it is practicable only, for will not a small irregularity grow, if uncontrolled, to a greater? Will not one irregularity also, if not properly checked, give birth to others? And may not these be so incorporated into the inner man in a course of time, that it may be as difficult for parents to eradicate them, as for the Ethiopian to change his colour, or the leopard his spots? But surely the Quakers ought to know the impropriety of undue indulgences in their families, as well as any other people? Is not the early subjugation of the will a doctrine more particularly adopted by them as a society? Without such a subjugation do they not conceive the mind to be in an unfit state to receive the admonitions of the pure principle, and of course to make a true proficiency in religion? Do they not consider themselves also as a highly professing people, and do they not know that the world expects more from them than from others? But how can their children ever perpetuate this extraordinary character after them, or shew that their parents possessed it, unless they are brought up in a peculiarly guarded manner? In addition to these observations it may be recommended, that parents should be careful to give their children what may be called a literal instruction in Christianity, in contradistinction to pure theism, or to those doctrines which they conceive may come from the teachings of the Holy Spirit, so that they may have a more intimate knowledge of all their principles, as a Christian body.

With respect to that part of education which may consist of knowledge as it is literary or philosophical, I conceive it might be attended with advantage to carry it to a greater extent than has hitherto been practised in the society, but particularly the latter. Nothing is so delightful to youth as experimental philosophy, by which they see the causes of things unfolded to their view. No science takes their attention more, or inclines them, in the farther pursuit of it, to be satisfied with home. And yet I doubt whether this branch of learning be not almost wholly neglected in the Quaker schools. The education which is received in the society, as it consists of the two kinds of knowledge described, is not, in my apprehension, carried far enough, so as to suit the peculiar situation of the children of the rich. These are they, who are most in danger. These are they, who, having the prospect of wealth before them, have the prospect of being able to procure destructive pleasures. These are they, who, having the prospect of independence, do not fear the opinion of the world or the loss of reputation in it, like those, who have their livelihood to obtain by their own industry. Now it should be the particular object of the education of these, as indeed it should be of all rich persons, so to instruct them, that, while they are obliged to live in the world, they may be enabled to live out of it, or deny it; so that, when seated amidst its corrupt opinions, amusements, and fashions, they should estimate them as below their notice, and as utterly unworthy of their countenance and support.

I should be sorry if, in holding up this species of education to a farther encouragement, as a preservative of the morals of the children of rich parents amidst the various temptations of life, I were to be thought to endeavour to take away in any degree the necessity of the influence of the Holy Spirit on the mind of man, or to deny that this Spirit ought not to be resorted to as the first and best guide, both by rich and poor, during their pilgrimage upon earth. For who can teach us best to deny the world? Who can teach us best to estimate its pursuits? Who can instruct us best to resist its temptations? To the Divine Being then we are first to look up, as to him who can be the best author of all our good, and the surest averter of all our evils, who can apply the best remedy to the imperfections of our nature, and who, while he leads us in safety, can lead us into the way of truth. But when we consider how many are inattentive, on account of the cares, and pleasures, and fashions, and prejudices, and customs of the world, to the secret notices of his grace, I cannot help considering that we may be allowed to have secondary and subordinate helps to our virtue. As the discipline of the Quaker society may produce and preserve a certain purity of life, so may a literary and philosophical education operate to the same end. Such an education is in its general tendency a friend to the promotion of virtue and to the discouragement of vice. It sets us often unquestionably above many of the corruptive opinions and customs in the midst of which we live. It leads us also frequently to the contemplation of the Divine Being in all the variety of his works. It gives us amiable, awful, and sublime conceptions of him. As far, therefore, as it is capable of doing this, it is a useful, though it be only a subordinate source of our purity, and we may therefore adopt it innocently. But we are never to forget, at the same time, that, though it may help us occasionally to resist corrupt temptations, and to encourage desirable propensities, yet it cannot do every thing for us that is necessary, and that we are never to overlook, on this account, the necessity of the influence of the Holy Spirit.

To shew in what the education, which under these limitations I am going to propose, may consist, I shall revive the controversy between the philosophical moralists and the Quakers, as described in the eighth chapter of the first volume. The philosophical moralists contended, that knowledge was to be preferred, as being more to be relied upon than prohibitions: that prohibitions were often causes of greater evils than they were intended to prevent; that they themselves were friends to occasional indulgencies; that they saw nothing necessarily or inherently mischievous in the amusements of the world; that it was not wise to anticipate danger by looking to distant prospects, where the things were innocent in themselves; that ignorance of vice was no guardian of morals; that causes, and not sub-causes, were to be contended against; and that there was no certain security but in knowledge and in a love of virtue. To this the Quakers replied, that prohibitions were sanctioned by divine authority; that as far as they related to the corrupt amusements of the world, they were implied in the spirit of Christianity; that the knowledge, which should be promotive of virtue, could not be inculcated without them; that knowledge again, if it were to be acquired by the permission of occasional indulgences, or by being allowed to pass through scenes which might be dangerous to virtue, would be more ruinous than ignorance by a prohibition of vice; that ignorance of vice was an essential in Christian morals; and that prohibitions therefore were indispensably necessary, and better to be relied upon, than any corrupt knowledge, which might arise from an acquaintance with the customs of the world.

This then was the state of the controversy, as described in the first volume. And in this state it was left. But, to explain the education which I have in view, I shall now bring it to a conclusion.

I must observe then, that the philosophical moralists had the advantage of the Quakers in this controversy, inasmuch as they supposed that knowledge was a better safeguard to morals than a mere ignorance of vice; but they failed in this, that they permitted this knowledge to be acquired by passing through scenes which might not be friendly to virtue. Now this latter permission is inadmissible in a Christian education; for no Christian youth ought to be permitted to see or to hear that which ought not to be uttered or exhibited by a Christian. The Quakers, on the other hand, had the advantage of the philosophical moralists, inasmuch as they considered ignorance to be better than corrupted knowledge; but they failed in this, that they seemed to rely upon ignorance of vice as a safeguard against it, without a proper portion of knowledge. The education then, to which I allude, ought to embrace the most valuable positions of both. It should consist of knowledge, and it should consist of wise prohibitions also. Knowledge and prohibitions are inseparable. While the mind is gaining knowledge, it should be kept innocent. And while it is kept innocent, it should be gaining knowledge. Youth should have that kind of knowledge instilled into them, by which they should discern the value of the prohibitions which are enjoined them. They should have such and so much knowledge, that if they were accidentally placed in the way of the things prohibited, they should be able to look them in the face, and pass through them without injury. This is that education, which, without superseding the necessity of the influence of the Holy Spirit, has a tendency to enable persons, while they live in the world, to live out of it or deny it.

But lest I should not be clearly understood upon this subject, I will exemplify how such an education would act or operate to the end proposed.

And, first of all, knowledge may be acquired by reading. Now there are two kinds of reading, the one useful, the other dangerous. By the premises, I am to adopt the first, and to prohibit the last. If then I accustom my child to the best and purest models of ancient and modern literature, I give him a certain taste for composition. If I accustom him to the purest and most amiable sentiments, as contained in these, I give him a love of virtue. If I heighten these sentiments by beautiful selections from the more pure and amiable sentiments of Christianity, I increase that love. If I give him in my own conduct an example, he sees me practise that which I recommend. I give him then a taste for the purest reading, and the choicest compositions, and I offer to his notice, at the same time, a certain system of morality, which he cannot but gradually adopt as his own. Now I would ask, what influence could a novel have upon a mind formed in this manner, if thrown accidentally in his way. If its composition were but moderate, as is the case with most of them, it would not suit the taste of my child. If its sentiments were impure, it would disgust him. These would be so contrary to the taste and to the feelings he had acquired, that the poison in such a book, like a ball, fired at a globular surface, would slide off without detriment to the morals of my child.

Knowledge again may be acquired in the course of amusements, and of such as may be resorted to within doors. Now of these again there are two kinds, the innocent and the corruptive. By the premises I am to be concerned with the first only. If then I accustom my child to mathematical and philosophical pursuits, if I incite him to experiments in these, if I assist him in measuring the motions of the heavenly bodies, and in discovering the wisdom and power of Omnipotence as displayed in these, if I occasion him to be interested in, the contemplation of such subjects, what have I done for my child? Have I not called out his intellectual faculties? Have I not laid in him the foundation of a serious and a thoughtful mind? Have I not accustomed him to solid things, in opposition to those that are light, and to sublime things, in opposition to those that are frivolous? Have I not inculcated in him a love for science? But take my child, after he has been accustomed to such thoughts and such subjects, to the theatre. Let the pantomime display its various attracting scenes to his view. And will he not think his entertainment low and superficial, in comparison of that which he left at home.

Knowledge again may be acquired by amusements which are out of doors. These again may be innocent or exceptionable. As before, I have nothing to do but with the former. If then I accustom my child to range the fields, as an employment promotive of his health, and connect this healthy exercise with the entertainment of botanical pursuits, do I not, in examining with him the shape, the colour, and the mechanism of plants and flowers, confirm in him his former love of the works of nature? Do I not confirm his former notion of the wisdom and power of omnipotence? Do I not teach him by these, and the other pursuits which have been mentioned, that all recreations should be innocent, and that time should be wisely employed? But hark! another amusement, and one of those which are followed out of doors, is at hand. The hounds are in view, and fast approaching. My son is accidentally solicited to join them. He would ask my permission, but I am absent. At length he goes. He follows them in wild tumult and uproar for an hour. He sees some galloping over hedges and ditches like madmen, and hazarding their persons in a presumptuous manner. He sees others ride over the cultivated fields of their neighbours, and injure the rising corn. He finds that all this noise and tumult, all this danger and injury, are occasioned by the pursuit of a little hare, whose pain is in proportion to the joy of those who follow it. Now can this diversion, educated as my child has been, fascinate him? Will he not question its innocence? And will he not question its consistency as a natural pursuit, or as an employment for his time?

It is thus then that knowledge will be found to operate as an artificial and innocent preservative against the destructive pleasures of the world. But prohibitions without knowledge will be but of little avail, where there is a prospect of riches, and the power of gratifying any improper appetites as they may arise. But by knowledge we shall be able to discover the beauty of things, so that their opposites, or the things prohibited, will cease to charm us. By knowledge we shall be able to discern the ugliness of the things prohibited, so that we shall be enabled to loathe them, if they should come into our way. And thus an education, conducted upon the principles of knowledge, may operate to the end proposed.

CHAP. V.

_Education continued, as consisting of knowledge and prohibitions--Good, which the Quakers have done by prohibitions, without any considerable knowledge--Greater good, which they would do with it--Knowledge then a great desideratum in the Quaker education--Favourable state of the society for the communication of it with purity, or without detriment to morals--In what this knowledge should consist--General advantages of it--Peculiar advantages, which it would bring to the society._

When we consider that men have all the same moral nature, we wonder, at the first sight, at the great difference of conduct which they exhibit upon earth. But when we consider the power of education upon the mind, we seem to lose our surprize. If men in all countries were educated alike, we should find a greater resemblance in their character. It is, in short, education, which makes the man. And as education appears to me to be of so much importance in life, I shall make it the subject of this and the succeeding chapter.

All education should have two objects in view, the opening of the understanding and the improvement of the heart. Of the two, the latter is most important. There cannot be a question, whether the person of the most desirable character be the virtuous or the learned man. Without virtue knowledge loses half its value. Wisdom, without virtue, may be said to be merely political; and such wisdom, whenever it belongs to a man, is little better than the cunning or craftiness of a fox. A man of a cultivated mind, without an unshaken love of virtue, is but a dwarf of a man. His food has done him no good, as it has not contributed to his growth. And it would have been better, for the honour of literature, if he had never been educated at all. The talents of man, indeed, considering him as a moral being, ought always to be subservient to religion. "All philosophy, says the learned Cudworth, to a wise man, to a truly sanctified mind, as he in Plutarch speaketh, is but matter for divinity to work upon. Religion is the queen of all those inward endowments of the soul: and all pure natural knowledge, all virgin and undeflowered arts and sciences, are her handmaids, that rise up and call her blessed."

Now if the opening of the understanding, and the improvement of the heart, be the great objects to be attained, it will follow, that both knowledge and wise prohibitions should always be component parts of the education of youth. The latter the Quakers have adopted ever since the institution of their society. The former they have been generally backward to promote, at least to any considerable extent. That they have done good, however, by their prohibitions, though unaccompanied by any considerable knowledge, it would be disingenuous not to acknowledge. But this goad has been chiefly confined to the children of those who have occupied middle stations in the society. Such children have undoubtedly arrived at the true wisdom of life at an early age, as I described in the first volume, and have done honour to the religion they professed. But prohibitions, without knowledge, have not been found to answer so well among the children of those who have had the prospect of a large moneyed independence before them, and who have not been afraid either of the bad opinion of their own society, or of the bad opinion of the world. It has been shewn, however, that knowledge with prohibitions would, in all probability, be useful to these; that it would have a tendency to enable them, in the perilous situation in which they are placed, to stand against the corrupt opinions and fashions, and while they were living in the world, to live out of it, or to deny it.

Peculiarly situated as the Quakers are, they have opportunities, beyond any other people, of ingrafting knowledge into their system of education without danger, or, in other words, of giving knowledge to their children with the purity which Christianity would prescribe. The great misfortune in the world is, that a learned education is frequently thought more of than a virtuous one; that youth, while they are obtaining knowledge, are not properly watched and checked; and that they are suffered to roam at large in the pursuit of science, and to cultivate or not, at their own option, the science, if I may so call it, of religion. Hence it will happen, that, where we see learned men, we shall not always see these of the most exemplary character. But the Quakers have long ago adopted a system of prohibitions, as so many barriers against vice, or preservatives of virtue. Their constitution forbids all indulgences that appear unfriendly to morals. The Quakers therefore, while they retain the prohibitions which belong to their constitution, may give encouragement to knowledge, without a fear that it will be converted to the purposes of vice.

The Quakers, again, have opportunities or advantages, which others have not, in another point of view. In the great public seminary at Ackworth, which belongs to them, and which is principally for those who are of the poor and middle classes, every thing is under the inspection and guidance of committees, which can watch and enforce an observance of any rules that may be prescribed. Why then, if public seminaries were instituted for the reception of the children of the rich, or if the rich were to give encouragement to large private seminaries for the same purposes, should they not be placed under the visiting discipline of the society? Why should they not be placed under the care of committees also? Why should not these committees see that the two great objects of the education proposed were going on at the same time, or that, while knowledge was obtaining, discipline had not been relaxed. Why should not such seminaries produce future Penns, and Barclays, and others, who, while they were men capable of deep literary researches, should be exemplary for their virtue?

As knowledge then ought to form a part of the proposed education, on a much larger scale than has been hitherto encouraged, I shall say a few words as to the component parts of it, and as to the general advantages of these, and I shall afterwards speak to the advantages which the society in particular would derive from such a change.

In the education I propose, I do not mean, in the slightest manner, to break in upon the moral system of the Quakers, as described in the first volume. I do not propose to them the polite arts. I do not recommend them to make children musicians, or that they should learn, under the dancing-master, to step gracefully. I advise only such knowledge as will be strictly innocent and useful.

In the first place, I recommend a better classical education. Classical knowledge gives the foundation both of particular and universal grammar. While it gives the acquisition of the dead languages, it is the root, and thereforce facilitates the acquisition of many of the living. As most of the technical terms in the professions and sciences are borrowed from these languages, it renders them easily understood. The study of the structure and combination of words and sentences calls forth the reflecting powers of youth, and expands their genius. It leads to penetration and judgement. It induces habits of diligence and patience. By means of this knowledge we have access to the sacred writings in the languages in which they were written, and we are therefore not liable to be imposed upon, for the sense of them, by others. We become acquainted also, by means of it, with the sentiments and knowledge of the ancients. We see their thoughts and expressions. We acquire a literary taste.

A knowledge of ancient history is necessarily conpected with the former. To this, however, should be added that of the modern. History, while it entertains us, instructs us morally. We cannot see the rise and fall of empires, or the causes of their formation and dissolution, or read the histories of good and bad men, without impressions of moral importance to ourselves.

A philosophical education is peculiarly important. By this I mean, a general knowledge of the mathematics, of mechanics, optics, hydrostatics, astronomy, chemistry, botany, and the like. The teaching of these should be accompanied by experiments. Experimental philosophy, as I observed before, is peculiarly interesting to youth. Such knowledge teaches us the causes of things. Mysteries, hitherto hidden both in the garden and in the field, and in the heaven and in the air, lie unfolded to our view. Every walk we take, while the surface of the earth remains as it is, and the canopy of the firmament is spread over us, gives its the opportunity, in all the innumerable objects presented to our view, of almost endless investigation and delight. And the deeper we go into the hidden things of nature, and the more we unfold them, have we not a better belief of the existence of the Creator, and grander notions of the symmetry, order, beauty, and wisdom of his works? Such knowledge leads also, as it has always done, to discoveries, by which we may make ourselves useful to mankind. And, besides the utility, of which it may make us capable, can discoveries of the principles of nature lessen oar love and admiration of the first great Cause?

To philosophical knowledge should be added general reading. Such reading should be of the purest kind. Of knowledge, acquired in this manner, it maybe said, that it opens new sources of right views and sentiments, and this even independently of Christianity, from which our most valuable information is derived. Thus at a time, when as a nation we professed to be Christians, we shed the blood of the martyrs. Thus when even such men as the great Sir Matthew Hale, one of the brightest Christian patterns in our country, were at the head of it, we condemned persons to death for witchcraft. But knowledge superior to that of those times, has taught us better things. By means of it we perceive, that persecution does not destroy, but that it propagates opinions, and that the belief of the existence of witchcraft is absurd.

These then appear to me to be the general advantages, or such as are inseparable from education when composed of the various branches of knowledge which have been described. I shall now endeavour to shew the peculiar advantages, which the Quakers would derive from it.

It will appear then, if we look back into the character of the Quakers, as described in this volume, that the world charges them, I mean the more affluent part of them, with having less learning, than others in a similar rank of life. But surely the education I propose would remove this intellectual defect.

The world again, as we have seen, has fixed another intellectual blemish upon them by the imputation of superstition. But how does superstition enter, but where there is a want of knowledge? Does not all history bear testimony, that in proportion as men have been more or less enlightened, they have been less or more liable to this charge? It is knowledge then, which must banish this frightful companion of the mind. Wherever individuals acknowledge, in a more extensive degree than others, the influence of the Divine Spirit in man, these, of all other people, will find the advantages of it. Knowledge leads to a solution of things, as they are connected with philosophy, or the theory of the human mind. It enables men to know their first and their second causes, so as to distinguish between causes and occasions. It fixes the nature of action and of thought; and, by referring effects to their causes, it often enables men to draw the line between the probability of fancy and inspiration. How many good men are there, who, adopting a similar creed with that of the Quakers on this subject, make themselves uneasy, by bringing down the Divine Being, promiscuously and without due discrimination, into the varied concerns of their lives? How many are there, who attribute to him that which is easily explained by the knowledge of common causes? Thus, for instance, there are appearances in nature, which a person of an uninformed mind, but who should adopt the doctrine of the influence of the Spirit, would place among signs, and wonders, and divine notices, which others, acquainted with the philosophy of nature, would almost instantly solve. Thus again there may be occasions, which persons, carrying the same doctrine to an undue extent, might interpret into warning or prophetic voices, but which a due exercise of the intellect, where such exercise has been properly encouraged, would easily explain. This reminds me of a singular occurrence: A friend of mine was lately walking in a beautiful vale. In approaching a slate-quarry he heard an explosion, and a mass of stone, which had been severed by gunpowder, fell near him as he walked along. He went immediately to the persons employed. He represented the impropriety of their conduct in not having given proper notice to such as were passing by, and concluded by declaring emphatically, that they themselves would be soon destroyed. It happened, but six weeks afterwards, that two of these men were blown to pieces. The words then of my friend were verified. Now I have no doubt that ignorant persons, in the habit of referring every thing promiscuously to the Divine interference, would consider my friend as a prophet, and his words as a divinely forewarning voice. But what did my friend mean? or where did he get his foresight on this occasion? The answer is, that my friend, being accustomed to the exercise of his rational faculties, concluded, that if the people in question were so careless with respect to those who should be passing by in such times of danger, they would by custom become careless with respect to themselves, and that ultimately some mischief would befal them. It is knowledge, then, acquired by a due exercise of the intellectual powers, and through the course of an enlightened education, which will give men just views of the causes and effects of things, and which, while it teaches them to discover and acknowledge the Divine Being in all his wondrous works, and properly to distinguish him in his providences, preserves them from the miseries of superstition.

The world again has fixed the moral blemish of the money-getting, spirit upon the Quaker character. But knowledge would step in here also as a considerable corrector of the evil. It would shew, that there were other objects besides money, which were worthy of pursuit. Nor would it point out only new objects, but it would make a scale of their comparative importance. It would fix intellectual attachments, next to religion, in the highest class. Thus money would sink in importance as a pursuit, or be valued only as it was the means of comfort to those who had it, or of communicating comfort to others. Knowledge also would be useful in taking off, to a certain degree, the corruptive effects of this spirit, for it would prevent it by the more liberal notions it would introduce, from leaving the whole of its dregs of pollution upon the mind.

The Quakers again, as we have seen, have been charged with a want of animation, from whence an unjust inference has been drawn of the coldness of their hearts. But knowledge would diminish this appearance. For, in the first place, it would enlarge the powers, and vary the topics of conversation. It would enliven the speaker. It would give him animation in discourse. Animation again would produce a greater appearance of energy, and energy of the warmth of life. And there are few people, whatever might be the outward cold appearance of the person with whom they conversed, whose prejudices would not die away, if they found a cheerful and an agreeable companion.

Another charge against the Quakers was obstinacy. This was shewn to be unjust. The trait, in this case, should rather have been put down as virtue. Knowledge, however, would even operate here as a partial remedy. For while the Quakers are esteemed deficient in literature, their opposition to the customs of the world, will always be characterized as folly. But if they were to bear in the minds of their countrymen a different estimation as to intellectual attainments, the trait might be spoken of under another name. For persons are not apt to impute obstinacy to the actions of those, however singular, whom they believe to have paid a due attention to the cultivation of their minds.

It is not necessary to bring to recollection the other traits that were mentioned, to see the operation of a superior education upon these. It must have already appeared, that, whatever may be the general advantages of learning, they would be more than usually valuable to the Quaker character.

CHAP. VI.

_Arguments of those of the society examined, who may depreciate human knowledge--This depreciation did not originate with the first Quakers--with Barclay--Penn--Ellwood--but arose afterwards--Reputed disadvantages of a classical education--Its heathen mythology and morality--Disadvantages of a philosophical one--Its scepticism--General disadvantages of human learning--Inefficiency of all the arguments advanced._

Having shewn the advantages, which generally accompany a superior education, I shall exhibit the disadvantages which may be thought to attend it, or I shall consider those arguments, which some persons of this society, who have unfortunately depreciated human learning, though with the best intentions, might use against it, if they were to see the contents of the preceding chapter.

But, before I do this, I shall exonerate the first Quakers from the charge of such a depreciation. These exhibited in their own persons the practicability of the union of knowledge and virtue. While they were eminent for their learning, they were distinguished for the piety of their lives. They were indeed the friends of both. They did not patronize the one to the prejudice and expulsion of the other.[53]

[Footnote 53: George Fox was certainly an exception to this as a scholar. He was also not friendly to classical learning on account of some of the indelicate passages contained in the classical authors, which he and Farley and Stubbs, took some pains to cite, but, if these had been removed, I believe his objections would have ceased.]

Barclay, in his celebrated apology, no where condemns the propriety or usefulness of human learning, or denies it to be promotive of the temporal comforts of man. He says that the knowledge of Latin, Greek and Hebrew, or of logic and philosophy, or of ethics, or of physics and metaphysics, is not necessary. But not necessary for what? Mark his own meaning. Not necessary to make a minister of the Gospel. But where does he say that knowledge, which he himself possessed to such a considerable extent, was not necessary, or that it did not contribute to the innocent pleasures of life? What would have been the character of his own book, or what would have been its comparative value and usefulness, if he had not been able to quote so many authors to his purpose in their original texts, or to have detected so many classical errors, or to have introduced such apposite history, or to have drawn up his propositions with so much logical and mathematical clearness and precision, or if he had not been among the first literary characters of his day?

William Penn was equally celebrated with Barclay as a scholar. His works afford abundant proof of his erudition, or of the high cultivation of his mind. Like the rest of his associates, he was no advocate for learning, as a qualification for a minister of the Gospel, but he was yet a friend to it, on the principle, that it enlarged the understanding, and that it added to the innocent pleasures of the mind. He entreated his wife, in the beautiful letter which he left her, before he embarked on his first voyage to America, "not to be sparing of expence in procuring learning for his children, for that by such parsimony all was lost that was saved." And he recommended also in the same letter the mathematical or philosophical education which I have described.

Thomas Ellwood, a celebrated writer among the early Quakers, and the friend of the great John Milton, was so sensible of the disadvantages arising from a want of knowledge, that he revived his learning, with great industry, even after he had become a Quaker. Let us hear the account which he gives of himself in his own Journal. "I mentioned before, says he, that, when I was a boy, I made some progress in learning, and that I lost it all again before I came to be a man. Nor was I slightly sensible of my last therein, till I came amongst the Quakers. But then I both saw my loss, and lamented it; and applied myself with the utmost diligence, at all leisure times to recover it. So false I found that charge to be, which in those times was east as a reproach upon the Quakers, that they despised and decried all human learning, because they denied it to be essentially necessary to a Gospel ministry, which was one of the controversies of those times."

"But though I toiled hard, and spared no pains to regain what I had once been master of, yet I found it a matter of so great difficulty, that I was ready to say, as the noble eunuch to Philip, in another case, how can I, unless I had some man to guide me?"

"This I had formerly complained of to my especial friend Isaac Pennington, but now more earnestly; which put him upon considering and contriving a means for my assistance."

"He had an intimate acquaintance with Dr. Paget, a physician of note in London, and he with John Milton, a gentleman of great note for learning, throughout the learned world, for the accurate pieces he had Written on various subjects and occasions."

"This person, having filled a public station in the former times, lived now a private and retired life in London; and, having wholly lost his sight, kept always a man to read to him, which usually was the son of some gentleman of his acquaintance, whom in kindness he took to improve in his learning."

"Thus by the mediation of my friend Isaac Pennington with Dr. Paget, and of Dr. Paget with John Milton, was I admitted to come to him; not as a servant to him (which at that time he needed not) nor to be in the house with him; but only to have the liberty of coming to his house at certain hours, when I would, and to read to him what books he should appoint me, which was all the favour I desired."

By means of this extract, made from the life of Thomas Ellwood, we come to three conclusions. First, that the early Quakers were generally men of eminent learning. Secondly, that they did not decry or depreciate human knowledge. And thirdly, that the calumny of such a depreciation by them arose from the controversy which they thought it right to maintain, in which they denied it to be necessary as a qualification for a Gospel minister.

This latter conclusion brings me round again to the point. And here I must observe, that, though this famous controversy occasioned the first Quakers to be unduly blamed on account of such a depreciation, yet it contributed to make some of their immediate successors, as I stated in a former volume, justly chargeable with it. But whether this was or was not the real cause, it is not material to the question. Many of the society, from came cause or other, did undoubtedly, in the age immediately succeeding that of their founders, begin to depreciate human knowledge, the effects of which, though gradually dissipating, have not been wholly done away at the present day. The disadvantages, therefore, of human learning, or the arguments which would be advanced against it by those who may undervalue it, I shall now consider.

These arguments may be divided into particular and general. On the former I shall first speak.

A classical education is considered to be objectionable, first, on account of the Heathen mythology that is necessarily connected with it. Its tendency, as it relates to fabulous occurrences, is thought to be unfavourable, as it may lead to a romantic propensity, and a turn for fiction. But surely the meaning of such occurrences cannot be well mistaken. If they are represented to our view in fable, they have had their foundation in truth. Many of them again are of such importance, that we could not wish to see them annihilated. Let us refer, for example, to the story of Deucalion and Pyrrha. Is it not one among the many outward confirmations of the truth of the history of Moses? Or do we not trace in it additional proofs of the deluge, and of the renewal of mankind?

Its tendency again, as it relates to the fabulous history of the Heathen gods, their number, their offices, and their character, is considered as degrading and exceptionable. I will concede this for a moment. But may it not, on the other hand, be rendered instructive and useful? May not the retention of such an history be accompanied with great moral advantages to our children? The emperor Theodosius commanded the idol temples to be destroyed. Instead of devoting them to the use of the Christians of those times, by which they might have been preserved to future generations, the most beautiful remains of antiquity were reduced to ruins. But would it not have been better, if Theodosius had brought good out of evil by retaining them? Would it not have been a high moral gratification to those who knew the fact, that temples, appropriated to the worship of idols, had been devoted to the service of the only true God? Would it not have been a matter of joy to these to have reflected upon the improving condition of mankind? And, while they looked up to these beautiful structures of art, might not the sight of them have contributed to the incitement of their virtue? If it be the tendency of the corrupt part of our nature to render innocent things vicious, it is, on the other hand, in the essence of our nature to render vicious things in process of time innocent, so that the very remnants of idolatry may be made subservient to our moral improvement. "If, as I observed in the first volume, we were to find an alter which had been sacred to Moloch, but which had been turned into a stepping-stone to help the aged and infirm upon their horses, why should we destroy it? Might it not be made useful to our morality, as for as it could be made to excite sorrow for the past and gratitude for the present?" And in the same manner the retention of the Heathen mythology might be made serviceable. Ought it not, whenever we contemplate it, to make us thankful, that we have not the dark and cheerless path of our ancestors to tread; that we have clearer light; that we have surer prospects; that we have a steadier ground of hope; and ought we not, on a contemplation of these superior advantages, brought to us by revelation, to be roused into the practice of a superior virtue.

Classical education again is considered as objectionable by the Quakers on account of the Heathen notions, which it may spread. Thus the highest reputation of man is placed in deeds of martial achievement, and a martial ardour is in consequence infused into youth, which it is difficult to suppress. That such notions and effect are produced, there can be no doubt; but how are we to avoid these whilst we are obliged to live in the world? The expulsion of the classics would not expel them. Our own newspapers, which are open to all, spread the same opinions, and are instrumental of course in producing the same excitements, but they do it in a much more objectionable way than the classical authors, that is, they do it with less delicacy, and with a more sanguinary applause. But where, as I observed before, shall we retire from such impressions? Does not the recruiting drum propagate them in all our towns? Do not the ringing of the bells, and the illuminations, which occasionally take place in the time of war, propagate them also? And do we not find these, both in war and in peace, the sentiments and impressions of the world? Our own notions then, our own writings, and our own customs, are more to be blamed in this respect, than the literary compositions of ancient times. But this, of all others, ought to be least an objection with the Quakers to such an education; because, to their honour, they have a constant counteraction of the effects of such sentiments and impressions in the principles of their own constitution, and which counteraction cannot cease, while, by the bearing of their testimony, they live in a continual protest against them.

The last objection to a classical education is, that the system of the Heathen morality is generally too deficient for those who are to be brought up as Christians. To this I answer, that it is quite as good as the system of the morality of the world. I could procure purer sentiments, and this generally from the Heathen authors usually called[54] classical, than I can collect from many, even of the admired publications of our own times. The morality of the heathens is not so deficient as many have imagined. If their best opinions were duly selected and brought into one view, the only matter of surprise would be, how, with no other than the law written upon the heart, they had made such sublime discoveries. It was principally in their theology, where the law written upon the heart could not reach, that the ancients were deficient. They knew but little of the one true God. They did not know that he was a Spirit, and that he was to be worshiped in spirit and in truth. They were ignorant of his attributes. They had learnt nothing of the true origin, nature, and condition of man, or of the scheme of creation and redemption. These things were undoubtedly hidden from the eyes of the ancient philosophers. And it was in knowledge of this kind chiefly, that their deficiency was apparent. But how is this particular deficiency detrimental to youth, or how rather might it not be rendered useful to them in the way described? What a sublime contrast does knowledge, as exhibited by revelation, afford to the ignorance of those times, and what joy and gratitude ought we not to feel in the comparison? And this is the only use which can be made of their mythology? For when we send youth to the classical authors, we send them to learn the languages, and this through a medium where the morality is both useful and respectable, but we do not send them, living where the blessings of revelation are enjoyed, to be instructed in religion.

[Footnote 54: It must however be acknowledged, that, amidst beautiful sentiments, such as are indelicate are occasionally interspersed. But the quakers might remedy this objection by procuring a new edition of the purest classics only, in which particular passages might be omitted. They might also add new Latin notes, founded on Christian principles, where any ideas were found to be incorrect, and thus make Heathenism itself useful, as a literal teacher of a moral system. The world, I believe, would be obliged to the Quakers for such an edition, and it would soon obtain in most of the schools of the kingdom.]

The principal argument against a philosophical education, which is the next subject for consideration, is, that men, who cultivate such studies, require often more proofs of things than can always be had, and that, if these are wanting, they suspend their belief. And as this is true in philosophy, so it may be true in religion. Hence persons accustomed to such pursuits, are likely to become sceptics or infidels. To this I answer, that the general tendency of philosophy is favourable to religion. Its natural tendency is to give the mind grand and sublime ideas, and to produce in it a belief of the existence of one great cause, which is not visible among men. Thus, for example, I find that the planets perform a certain round! They perform it with a certain velocity. They do not wander at random, but they are kept to their orbits. I find the forces which act upon them for this purpose. I find, in short, that they are subject to certain laws. Now, if the planets were living agents, they might have prescribed these laws to themselves. But I know that this, when I believe them to consist of material substances, is impossible. If then, as material substances, they are subject to laws, such laws must have been given them. There must have been some lawgiver. In this manner then I am led to some other great, and powerful, and invisible Agent or Cause. And here it may be observed, that if philosophers were ever baffled in their attempts at discovery, or in their attempts after knowledge, as they frequently are, they would not, on this account, have any doubt with respect to the being of a God. If they had found, after repeated discoveries, that the ideas acquired from thence were repeatedly or progressively sublime, and that they led repeatedly or progressively to a belief of the existence of a superior Power, is it likely that they would all at once discard this belief, because there researches were unsuccessful? If they were to do this, they would do it against all the rules of philosophizing, and against the force of their own habits. I say, that analogical is a part of philosophical reasoning, and that they would rather argue, that, as such effects had been uniformly produced, so they would probably still be produced, if their researches were crowned with success. The tendency then of philosophical knowledge is far otherwise than has been supposed. And it makes highly in favour of the study of these sciences, that those who have cultivated them the most, such as Newton, and Boyle, and others, have been found among the ablest advocates for religion.[55]

[Footnote 55: I by no means intend to say, that philosophy leads to the religion called Christianity, but that it does to Theism, which is the foundation of it.]