CHAPTER XXXVII.
Political education is like the keystone to the arch--the strength ofthe whole depends upon it.--Encycl. Britt. Sup. Art. "Education."
I was sitting in the library of Glenmorris Castle, about a week afterall the bustle of contest and the eclat of victory had began to subside,and quietly dallying with the dry toast, which constituted then, anddoes to this day, my ordinary breakfast, when I was accosted by thefollowing speech from my uncle.
"Henry, your success has opened to you a new career: I trust you intendto pursue it?"
"Certainly," was my answer.
"But you know, my dear Henry, that though you have great talents, which,I confess, I was surprised in the course of the election to discover,yet they want that careful cultivation, which, in order to shine in theHouse of Commons, they must receive. Entre nous, Henry; a litle readingwould do you no harm."
"Very well," said I, "suppose I begin with Walter Scott's novels; I amtold they are extremely entertaining."
"True," answered my uncle, "but they don't contain the most accuratenotions of history, or the soundest principles of political philosophyin the world. What did you think of doing to-day, Henry?"
"Nothing!" said I very innocently.
"I should conceive that to be an usual answer of yours, Henry, to anysimilar question."
"I think it is," replied I, with great naivete.
"Well, then, let us have the breakfast things taken away, and dosomething this morning."
"Willingly," said I, ringing the bell.
The table was cleared, and my uncle began his examination. Little,poor man, had he thought, from my usual bearing and the character of myeducation, that in general literature there were few subjects on whichI was not to the full as well read as himself. I enjoyed his surprise,when little by little he began to discover the extent of my information,but I was mortified to find it was only surprise, not delight.
"You have," said he, "a considerable store of learning; far more thanI could possibly have imagined you possessed; but it is knowledge notlearning, in which I wish you to be skilled. I would rather, in orderto gift you with the former, that you were more destitute of the latter.The object of education, is to instil principles which are hereafterto guide and instruct us; facts are only desirable, so far as theyillustrate those principles; principles ought therefore to precedefacts! What then can we think of a system which reverses this evidentorder, overloads the memory with facts, and those of the most doubtfuldescription, while it leaves us entirely in the dark with regard tothe principles which could alone render this heterogeneous mass ofany advantage or avail? Learning without knowledge, is but a bundle ofprejudices; a lumber of inert matter set before the threshold of theunderstanding to the exclusion of common sense. Pause for a moment,and recal those of your contemporaries, who are generally consideredwell-informed; tell me if their information has made them a whit thewiser; if not, it is only sanctified ignorance. Tell me if names withthem are not a sanction for opinion; quotations, the representatives ofaxioms? All they have learned only serves as an excuse for all they areignorant of. In one month, I will engage that you shall have a justerand deeper insight into wisdom, than they have been all their livesacquiring; the great error of education is to fill the mind first withantiquated authors, and then to try the principles of the present day bythe authorities and maxims of the past. We will pursue for our plan, theexact reverse of the ordinary method. We will learn the doctrines of theday, as the first and most necessary step, and we will then glance overthose which have passed away, as researches rather curious than useful.
"You see this very small pamphlet; it is a paper by Mr. Mills, uponGovernment. We will know this thoroughly, and when we have done so, wemay rest assured that we have a far more accurate information upon thehead and front of all political knowledge, than two-thirds of the youngmen whose cultivation of mind you have usually heard panegyrized."
So saying, my uncle opened the pamphlet. He pointed out to me its closeand mathematical reasoning, in which no flaw could be detected, nordeduction controverted: and he filled up, as we proceeded, from thescience of his own clear and enlarged mind, the various parts which thepolitical logician had left for reflection to complete. My uncle hadthis great virtue of an expositor, that he never over-explained; henever made a parade of his lecture, nor confused what was simple byunnecessary comment.
When we broke off our first day's employment, I was quite astonished atthe new light which had gleamed upon me. I felt like Sinbad, the sailor,when, in wandering through the cavern in which he had been buried alive,he caught the first glimpse of the bright day. Naturally eager in everything I undertook, fond of application, and addicted to reflect over thevarious bearings of any object that once engrossed my attention, I madegreat advance in my new pursuit. After my uncle had brought me to bethoroughly conversant with certain and definite principles, we proceededto illustrate them from fact. For instance, when we had finished the"Essay upon Government," we examined into the several constitutions ofEngland, British America, and France; the three countries which pretendthe most to excellence in their government: and we were enabled toperceive and judge the defects and merits of each, because we had,previous to our examination, established certain rules, by which theywere to be investigated and tried. Here my sceptical indifference tofacts was my chief reason for readily admitting knowledge. I had noprejudices to contend with; no obscure notions gleaned from the past; nopopular maxims cherished as truths. Every thing was placed before me asbefore a wholly impartial inquirer--freed from all the decorations anddelusions of sects and parties, every argument was stated with logicalprecision--every opinion referred to a logical test. Hence, in a veryshort time, I owned the justice of my uncle's assurance, as to thecomparative concentration of knowledge. We went over the whole ofMills's admirable articles in the encyclopaedia, over the more popularworks of Bentham, and thence we plunged into the recesses of politicaleconomy. I know not why this study has been termed uninteresting. Nosooner had I entered upon its consideration, than I could scarcely tearmyself from it. Never from that moment to this have I ceased to pay itthe most constant attention, not so much as a study as an amusement; butat that time my uncle's object was not to make me a profound politicaleconomist. "I wish," said he, "merely to give you an acquaintance withthe principles of the science; not that you may be entitled to boast ofknowledge, but that you may be enabled to avoid ignorance; not thatyou may discover truth, but that you may detect error. Of all sciences,political economy is contained in the fewest books, and yet is the mostdifficult to master; because all its higher branches require earnestnessof reflection, proportioned to the scantiness of reading. Mrs. Marsett'selementary work, together with some conversational enlargement on theseveral topics she treats of, will be enough for our present purpose. Iwish, then, to show you, how inseparably allied is the great scienceof public policy with that of private morality. And this, Henry, is thegrandest object of all. Now to our present study."
Well, gentle Reader, (I love, by the by, as you already perceive, thatold-fashioned courtesy of addressing you)--well, to finish this part ofmy life which, as it treats rather of my attempts at reformation than mysuccess in error, must begin to weary you exceedingly, I acquired,more from my uncle's conversation than the books we read, a sufficientacquaintance with the elements of knowledge, to satisfy myself, and toplease my instructor. And I must say, in justification of my studies andmy tutor, that I derived one benefit from them which has continued withme to this hour--viz. I obtained a clear knowledge of moral principle.Before that time, the little ability I possessed only led me into acts,which, I fear, most benevolent Reader, thou hast already sufficientlycondemned: my good feelings--for I was not naturally bad--never availedme the least when present temptation came into my way. I had no guidebut passion; no rule but the impulse of the moment. What else could havebeen the result of my education? If I was immoral, it was because I wasnever taught morality. Nothing, perhaps, is less innate than vir
tue. Iown that the lessons of my uncle did not work miracles--that, living inthe world, I have not separated myself from its errors and its follies:the vortex was too strong--the atmosphere too contagious; but I haveat least avoided the crimes into which my temper would most likely havedriven me. I ceased to look upon the world as a game one was to playfairly, if possible--but where a little cheating was readily allowed;I no longer divorced the interests of other men from my own: if Iendeavoured to blind them, it was neither by unlawful means, nor fora purely selfish end:--if--but come, Henry Pelham, thou hast praisedthyself enough for the present; and, after all, thy future adventureswill best tell if thou art really amended.