Chapter 5 of 19 · 3995 words · ~20 min read

Part 5

It may perhaps be urged, that even theological schools—schools exclusively devoted to moral and religious instruction, sometimes turn out infidels, hypocrites, and profligates upon society. I admit the fact, but deny that any inference can fairly be drawn from it which could, in the slightest degree, invalidate the assertion that moral and religious instruction should ever be made the basis of all education. But one method indeed, occurs to me, by which this vital truth (as I firmly believe it to be) could be rendered even doubtful. It would be fairly to compare, if practicable, the numbers of worthless young persons from all our schools of every kind. Then, if the proportion from theological institutions was greater than from any other, or even should it prove as great, the peculiar kind of instruction there given might well be deemed worthless. But if this proportion really be smaller, almost beyond calculation smaller, as I verily believe it will be found, it must be as clear as a cloudless sun that the religious and moral principles taught in theological schools, are infinitely more available in making good and virtuous men, than all the other principles put together which are taught in other schools, and are consequently greatly superior to them, even _for this world's use_. Shall I be asked by the scoffers at religion, if I would educate all our boys for parsons? I will reply by another question—will not the scoffers themselves be willing to educate their children for heaven, if there _be such a place_? If there _be not_, what could they possibly lose, even in the present life, by having them taught to believe that truth, justice, mercy, and charity in its broadest sense, with all other good qualities that exalt man to his highest state of moral and intellectual excellence, have no other sure foundation, no other permanent sanction, but christianity? As a mere matter of worldly calculation, and upon the supposition that there is error, or at least _the risk of it_ on both sides, any rational man would think that the point should be settled forever, even by so simple an argument as the one used by Crambé with his master Martinus Scriblerus, when invited to join a society of free-thinkers. Crambé's advice was, “by no means to enter into their society unless they would give him sufficient security to bear him harmless from any thing that might happen after this life.” This is a kind of calculation which must always have some weight even with the most reckless, hardened sinner. As here presented in the identical words of Dean Swift, it may possibly have the appearance to some, of unbecoming levity on so momentous a subject. But I trust not, as nothing is more remote from my own intentions. No matter which can possibly engage our attention, can bear the smallest comparison with this in importance; and in this respect, the reformation of our schools throughout the country, is a subject of the deepest—the most vital interest. In many, very many of them, no religious instruction whatever is given; nor indeed, is there any regular, systematic course of moral study pursued as the most essential of the whole course; but (as I have before remarked) languages and sciences—sciences and languages, alternated in all imaginable modes and forms, constitute nearly the whole process of education for our sons; while our daughters, to compensate for their not being allowed to go quite so deep into such matters, have their feet and fingers taught to execute many truly marvellous tricks—and moreover, are instructed in the grand art of getting husbands by “dress and address,” as the quintessence of female education.

The sum and substance of all my remarks on this, as on former occasions, will prove, I hope, that many great and radical obstacles exist to the adoption and practice of a correct system of education, which are far from being necessary evils, although the various mischiefs done by them may be considered as working most fatally on the very vitals of society. Many of these obstacles have been, most justly, as I believe, ascribed to parents—many to teachers, numerous others to scholars, and not a few to the public in general. Whether these last will find any parents willing to acknowledge them, is more than I can tell. But believing that their existence cannot be denied—for they are seen and deeply felt every where—the conclusions to be drawn from such facts remain in their full force.

These are, that the teaching of _the heart_ must always precede that of _the head_; that _right motives_ must be inspired before _good conduct_ can be expected, and that the Logadian plan of building houses from the tops downwards, must not be so closely imitated in rearing our edifices of education, if we wish them to answer any other than a very temporary and comparatively contemptible purpose. In other words, we must take care always to commence with _the foundations_, and have _them_ exactly as they should be, or the superstructures can never be either useful or durable to the extent they might be made. These foundations are—_not the alphabet_, nor _the arithmetical characters_, nor _grammars_, nor _dictionaries_, nor _foreign languages_, nor _sciences_—_but the love of God and man to be displayed in overt acts rather than by empty professions, and to govern, in fact, the whole life._ To make our entire work indestructible _hereafter_, as well as estimable in the highest degree _here_, the main pillars, as well as the corner stones and whole groundwork must be—aye, _must necessarily, absolutely, unconditionally be_, such as will pass inspection in the next life, as well as in the present. This brings us back to what has heretofore been so much and so earnestly insisted upon—the unqualified, the sacred obligation of all who have any thing to do, from first to last, with educating the youth of our country, to make, as far as practicable, not only _their motives_, but _the ultimate ends_ of their whole course of study, such as may bear examination at the last great and awful day of our final account before the Almighty Judge of heaven and earth. This most momentous truth of a final judgment in {620} another state of existence, for all “our deeds done in the body,” instead of being the first thing taught to our children as soon as their minds are capable of receiving truth at all, is generally left to find its way into them as it may—to be forced upon them in after life, as it rarely fails to be, by the terrors, the remorse of a guilty conscience, reproaching them for the commission of deeds against which early moral and religious instruction might effectually have guarded them. Yes, my friends, if there be any truth in God's word, such instruction _would guard_—_would save them_ from these terrors and this remorse. What awful responsibility then attaches to all those who neglect to give it! What an appalling consideration should it be, that thousands upon thousands of our youth are taught—so far as parental example _can teach_, to smother all thoughts of a final judgment in feasting; to drown them in intoxication; to forget them in the long and deadly sleep of a bestial debauch; or to banish them from the heart by the various pursuits of vanity, pride, avarice and ambition! Yet most of these very parents themselves well know, that all such sensualities and indulgences together are utterly unavailing always, to ward off the dark, solemn hour of serious reflection and agonizing remorse, which _will_ come, soon or late, to all offenders against the laws of God. Then rushes on the startling remembrance of all their misspent hours—their vicious pursuits—their criminal deeds, to haunt their guilty imaginations with ceaseless terrors, and to leave them no rest but in the temporary oblivion procured by a repetition of some long practised debauchery or other. Such must inevitably be the fate, in a greater or less degree, of all who act as if no future accountability attached to them for present conduct; unless indeed, their profligacy has been so great, so incessant, as to have silenced entirely “the still, small voice of conscience;” and _then_, the sooner death sweeps them from the face of the earth the better—certainly for society, and none the worse probably for themselves. But what, my dear friends, does all this prove? Is it not demonstration strong as proof from holy writ, that religious and moral principle should invariably be made the basis of _all education_, and that nothing which is called education should be suffered to be carried on, unless in close connection with, and subordination to this all-absorbing truth of final and eternal punishment for sin—of final and eternal happiness for a life of holiness and virtue in the present world?

If this reasoning be just, why is it that a course of moral and religious instruction is either entirely omitted, or so little regarded in nearly all our schools, except such as are theological? Could it possibly be the case, if religious and moral principles were deemed just as essential among all orders of men, as in the clerical order? Yet if these principles be equally necessary to all, why is a matter so highly important—so indispensable to the well being and happiness of society—left in a great measure, to chance? Why are young persons at school, suffered to infer from the silence of their instructers, that no particular attention to this subject need be given, unless by those who design to become professional teachers of religion? Is it denied, even by infidels, that the principles and motives of conduct, so far as they can possibly be imparted by human means, are matters of infinitely more importance among the things to be taught, than any others which can be imagined under the name of knowledge? So far then, both believers and unbelievers agree. Both concur in the necessity of first instructing every child in that system of ethics which is to serve them through life as a rule of action; because all other information without this must be stock that they know not how to apply. Yet, neither infidels nor christians generally, if at all, give this vital instruction in any such manner, as to prove to their children, that they estimate it very far above all other, in the scale of real value. The necessity of imparting it being equally admitted by the adherents of the worldly system of morals, and by the believers in that system left to us by our blessed Saviour himself, as the only sure guide to happiness, either here or hereafter, neither party can find any justification for their most shameful neglect. By this, they leave those whom it is their sacred duty to guide, without either chart or compass to steer their course through all the difficulties and dangers of life. Some religious parents and teachers there are, who express such a mortal dread of what they please to call _sectarianism_, that they will not venture to teach even the great fundamental truths of religion, in which all christians, at least, entirely agree; and thus, religious instruction of every kind is excluded from the course of these marvellously scrupulous persons. Others again, who, without believing one word of the Holy Scriptures, are yet willing, as a matter of prudence, to treat both them and their doctrines with external respect—say, that _they_ teach nothing which is _contrary_ to christian morality and religion. Although it would be easy to prove that silence in such a cause is little, if any better than open hostility, I will meet the assertion in a more direct way, by denying its truth. The fact is, that in every school in the United States, wherein moral and religious instruction is neglected, many things are taught which _are contrary_ to the principles of christianity. To prove this, look at the direction given to the conduct of the pupils—the motives by which they are actuated, and the objects at which they are taught to aim. Are not these _all worldly_? Are not many of them _absolutely forbid_ by the plainest precepts of christianity? And what more need be asked to demonstrate the truth of my accusation? Numerous exemplifications have already been given of the false morality, and consequently false religion imbibed, if not actually taught, both under the parental roof, and in our schools. In fact, the instances are so abundant, that I have scarcely ever attempted to trace the immoral and irreligious opinions of any persons whatever to their primitive source, without discovering that these opinions were derived chiefly from the precepts and examples of their early instructers. Motives being the source of all actions, and principles their regulators, both _must be made_ what they _ought to be_, or the actions themselves can never be morally good: yet most teachers appear to think that the principles and motives of their pupils are matters with which they have little or no concern. If their heads be filled with what is called scholastic learning—if they can be made punctually to obey scholastic rules, the instructers generally deem their part of the business of teaching accomplished, and the hearts of their scholars are left to form themselves. But what, in reality, can avail all the scholastic learning in the world, unless the possessors are first inspired {621} with the only true and proper motive for acquiring it, at the same time that they are taught its only justifiable use? This motive is social, philanthropic, heavenly; it is the love of God and his creatures. It impels to unceasing beneficence on earth, and leads us to look to heaven for our final reward. But the motives encouraged at least, if not openly taught in a great majority of schools, as well as by most parents, are essentially selfish and exclusive: for their objects are personal fame and personal aggrandizement, to be gained at any expense whatever, of mortification and suffering to others, which successful rivalry can inflict, or eager, insatiate competition can procure. Such motives and such morality interpose no effectual bar to the indulgence of any strong passion which happens to seize upon the individual governed by them, provided only such indulgence be openly tolerated by fashion, or silently permitted. For example, they never prevent our sons from drunkenness, gambling, or blowing out each other's brains for the most trivial causes imaginable, while they almost encourage, by failing to mark with utter reprobation, a species of profligacy too revolting to be mentioned. In regard to our daughters, the prevalent system of instruction cherishes a passion for dress—for public amusements of all kinds in which females are permitted to join—for company keeping—for general admiration—which unfits them for domestic life, and leaves their hearts a prey to all the tormenting distractions of envy, jealousy, and disappointed pride and vanity. Against these vices so destructive to the happiness of both sexes, I know of no regular course whatever of religious and moral instruction in our schools generally, especially of the preparatory kind. Recitations in languages, and elementary books of science, with a little writing and cyphering, comprise the sum total of the matters taught; and whether the children are Mohammedans, heathens, infidels or christians, is an affair which seems to be thought not properly cognizable by teachers at all. Here let me once more repeat, that I never would make, even had I the power, any alteration whatever in our systems of instruction, which would tend, in the slightest degree, to prevent the youth of our country from reaching the highest attainable excellence in all the justifiable pursuits of life. But I would have it thoroughly and deeply impressed on their hearts, under all circumstances—at every period of their pupilage, and at all times, _that truly moral conduct resulting from genuine religious principles, is “the one thing needful,” first and far above all, both for time and eternity_. Nothing should ever be taught in _any_ school, high or low, great or small, but in complete subordination to this most momentous, most vital truth: nor should any teacher whatever be suffered to neglect making _this_ the chief object of pursuit for every scholar under his or her care.

This plan alone, with God's blessing to aid it, can ever achieve the so much needed scholastic reforms and amendments in the modes and general scope of parental instruction. This alone can ever materially diminish that enormous mass of vice and crime, with all their soul-sickening consequences, which renders this world a scene of such constant, indescribable wretchedness in so many of its aspects. And who are _they_, my friends, that make it so? Who are the poor, forlorn, outcast wretches, that have brought disgrace upon their sex, shame on their families, and endless woe upon themselves? Are they not, in almost every case, the miserable victims of infidel opinions imbibed in early youth, under parents and teachers who have incurred the deep and deadly guilt of neglecting to take care of their precious souls, until the critical hours for correcting their evil propensities had forever passed away? Who compose that motley, most pitiable group of both sexes, and of almost all ages, with which our jails and penitentiaries are filled? Who are the shedders of their brother's blood? Who the robbers and murderers for gold, for revenge, for lust? Who the hellish destroyers of female honor, purity and peace—the perpetrators of crimes that carry ruin, misery and death into the peaceful abodes of domestic life, tearing asunder the nearest and dearest ties of our existence, and outraging alike all laws, both human and divine? Are they persons who have been morally and religiously educated from infancy, or such as have been most shamefully, most guiltily neglected in these all important respects—such as have hardly so much as heard of any other bonds—any other fetters to restrain their criminal passions—to prevent their atrocious deeds, than the gossamer filaments of a mere worldly morality? Alas! my friends, the bare contemplation of such heart-rending results, from the neglect or perversion of education, is enough to make every mother of an infant yet guiltless of actual sin, press the little innocent still closer to her bosom than she would do from the ordinary impulse of maternal love, in shuddering apprehension of what may be its future fate. It is enough to make every father tremble in considering the future destiny of his child, lest some neglect of duty, some false instruction, some vicious example on his part, should bring this child of his heart to misery and destruction. Will _you_ then, my dear hearers, do nothing to prevent such consummation, either as regards your own offspring or that of others? Can _you_, who have so much power—so deep an interest too in this momentous matter—can _you_ deliberately and seriously contemplate these crying evils, this enormous aggregate of human guilt and woe, without ascribing it principally to our defective systems of education, and without some secret dread lest _you yourselves individually_ may have, in some way or other, either directly or indirectly, contributed to augment it? Will you not add to your power of establishing, patronizing and regulating schools, the still more effectual influence of _your example_ in the early instruction of your children, to make education what it should be, in all its branches? Can there be any thing that concerns us in the present life—is there any thing in the whole compass of thought, which should excite half such deep, heart-felt, all absorbing anxiety, as to remove this deadly curse of ignorance and vice from our land and nation? That it _is removable_—at least in a degree beyond all calculation, greater than we can judge from beholding its present widely spread mischief, none can doubt who believe in the scripture assurance, that if we train up our children in the way they shall go, they will not depart from it; or who confide in the extent to which, by the blessing of God, all human beings may be improved, both in knowledge and virtue, by means of education. Not only our own happiness, but that of our children and children's children, to the latest generation, are at stake; and it depends upon _you_, my friends, _you_, who, in full {622} proportion to your numbers, can direct and control the education of the present race, whether this happiness shall be increased or destroyed to a degree which it has never yet reached. Upon _your_ precepts and examples, while your children are under your own care, and upon _your_ choice of preceptors, when you confide them to the care of others, it depends—whether these children shall prove curses or blessings to themselves, to their parents, and to their country. Let _all our resources then_, both mental and physical—_all_ our available means, both of talent and wealth, be applied to the requisite extent, for the attainment of so glorious a purpose. The individuals who achieve it—if it ever is to be achieved, will merit the highest honors—the richest rewards that this world can bestow, and will enjoy all the happiness promised in the next, to the greatest benefactors of the human race.

And now, my friends, in bidding you farewell, permit me freely, but respectfully, to address my few concluding remarks still more personally to yourselves. _Ye parents_, who are conscious of faults that obstruct the education of your own offspring and are anxious to mend them—_ye_ who still have children to be instructed, and cherish that deep solicitude for their continual improvement in knowledge and virtue, which it is your most sacred duty to cherish—_ye teachers_, who justly estimate the nature and extent of the momentous trusts confided to your honor, and the fatal consequences of neglecting to fulfil them—_ye young men and maidens_, who are still under pupilage—behold, I beseech you, the moral mirror which I have held up to your view. Search it again and again, and if you discern therein any similitude to your own defects, let it not be seen in vain. Oh! suffer it not to pass away “like the morning cloud or the early dew,” but set _instantly_, _earnestly_, _perseveringly_, about the vital work of extirpation, as your only hope for happiness either here or hereafter. Learn to consider—nay, _never for a moment to forget_, that nothing called education can have a shadow of pretence to be pronounced complete, but that which has for its basis the Gospel of Christ as well as its divine morality—that to act on every occasion as _this_ directs, is true wisdom—and that to gain the power of doing so, you must cherish in your hearts, through all the vicissitudes of life, the same heavenly dispositions and sentiments which the pious Cowper has so feelingly expressed in the following admirable lines.

_Thou_ art the source and centre of all minds, Their _only_ point of rest, _Eternal Word!_ From _thee_ departing they are lost, and rove At random, without honor, hope, or peace. From _thee_ is all that soothes the life of man, His high endeavor and his glad success, His strength to suffer, and his will to serve. But oh! thou bounteous giver of all good, _Thou_ art of _all_ thy gifts—thyself the crown. Give what thou canst, _without thee_ we are poor, And _with thee_ rich, take what thou wilt away.

THE RAINBOW.

“The Rainbow,” by Campbell, “Triumphal Arch,” &c. is indeed a glorious piece, and worthy at once of the subject and the poet. Nor does it derogate much from his genius, though it does a little perhaps from his honesty, that he has borrowed (without acknowledgment) two or three of the finest thoughts and phrases in it from an older bard, a certain Henry Vaughan, who flourished about two centuries ago, and whose poems, says Montgomery, “amidst much harshness and obscurity, show gleams of rare excellence.” Thus these lines of Vaughan,