TO ROBERT MOLESWORTH, ESQ.
I could not but be much surprised, my dear friend, to receive your commands on a subject, of which You, of all men, are the greatest master. For who could so well advise the party, you speak of, or resolve the general question concerning The Uses of Foreign Travel, considered as a part of modern breeding and education, as He, who has himself profited so much by this practice, and, in a late excellent treatise[36], has given so convincing a proof of its utility?
Besides, your application to me is a little suspicious; and looks as if you wanted to draw from me a confirmation of your own sentiments, rather than a candid examination of them. For how was it possible for you not to foresee the difficulty I must be under, in debating this point with you? When have I been able to dissent from you in any question of morals or policy? and especially what chance for my doing it in this instance, when you know the bias which my own education, conducted in this way, must have left upon me?
I am therefore at a loss, as I said, to account for your fancy in making me of your council on this occasion. But, whatever your purpose might be, since you have thought fit to honour me so far, I must own your Letter of Inquiry could not possibly have found me in a fitter season.
I happened just then to amuse myself with recollecting a conversation, which, not many days before, had passed between me and a certain Philosopher of great note, on that very subject.
You know the esteem I have of this Philosopher; I mean, for such of his writings, as are most popular, and deserve to be so; such as his pieces on Government, Trade, Liberty, and Education. No man understands the world better; or reasons more clearly on those subjects, in which that world takes itself to be most of all, and is, in truth, very nearly concerned.
His Philosophy, properly so called, is not, I doubt, of so good a taste; at least, his notion of morals is too modern for my relish: I had put myself to school to other masters, and had learnt, you know, from his betters what to think of Life and Manners; which they treat in a style quite out of the way of these subverters of ideal worlds[37], and architects on material principles[38].
But on this head, my dear Sir, you have heard me speak often, and may hear from me more at large on some other occasion. With exception to this one article (an important one, however), no man is more able, than Mr. Locke, or more privileged by his long experience, to give us Lectures on the good old chapter of Education; which many others indeed have discussed; but none with so much good sense and with so constant an eye to the use and business of the world as this writer.
The purpose of your inquiry, then, cannot, as I suppose, be any other way so well answered, as by putting into your hands a faithful account of his sentiments on the conduct and use of Travelling: especially, as you will perceive at the same time what my notions are (if that be of any importance to you) on the same subject.
If I were composing a Dialogue in the old mimetical, or poetic form, I should tell you, perhaps, the occasion that led us into this track of conversation. Nay, I should tell you what accident had brought us together; and should even omit no circumstance of time or place, which might be proper to let you into the scene, and make you, as it were, one of us.
But these punctilios of decorum are thought too constraining, and, as such, are wisely laid aside, by the easy moderns. Nay the very notion of Dialogue, such as it was in the politest ages of antiquity, is so little comprehended in our days, that I question much, if these papers were to fall into other hands than your own, whether they would not appear in a high degree fantastic and visionary. It would never be imagined that a point of morals or philosophy could be regularly treated in what is called a conversation-piece; or that any thing so unlike the commerce of our world could have taken place between men, that had any use or knowledge of it.
This, I say, might be the opinion of men of better breeding; of those, who are acquainted with the fashion, and are themselves practised in the conversations, of the polite world. The formalists, on the other hand, would be out of patience, I can suppose, at this sceptical manner of debate, which ends in nothing; and after the waste of much breath, leaves the matter at last undecided, and just as it was taken up.
All this, it must be owned, is very true. But as it is not my intention to submit the following draught to such critics, you, who know me, will accept this recital, made in my own way, and pretty much as it passed. You may well be trusted to make your own conclusions from what is offered on either side of the argument, and will need no officious monitor to instruct you on which side the truth lies.
Not to detain you, by further preliminaries, from the entertainment (such as it is) which I have promised you; you may suppose, if you please, Mr. Locke and me, in company with some other of our common friends, sitting together in my library, and entering on the subject in the following manner.
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
And is not TRAVELLING then, in your opinion, one of the best of those methods, which can be taken to polish and form the manners of our liberal youth, and to fit them for the business and conversation of the world?
MR. LOCKE.
I think not. I see but little good, in proportion to the time it takes up, that can be drawn from it, under any management; but, in the way in which it commonly is and must be conducted, so long as travel is considered as a part of early education, I see nothing but mischiefs spring from it.
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
What! necessarily spring from it? And is there no way to stop their growth; or at least prevent their choking the good plants, which that soil is capable of producing?
MR. LOCKE.
This indeed I must not absolutely affirm: your Lordship’s example, I confess, stands in my way. But if your own education, which was conducted in this form, and creates a prejudice for it, be pleaded against me, I may still say, that the argument extends no further than to qualify the assertion; and that, as in other cases, the rule is general, though with some exceptions.
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
It was not my meaning to put your politeness to this proof. I would even take no advantage of the exception which you might consent to make in the case of many other travellers, who have, doubtless, a better claim, than myself, to this indulgence. What I would gladly know of you, is, Whether, in general, Travel be not an excellent school for our ingenuous and noble youth; and whether it may not, on the whole, deserve the countenance of a philosopher, who understands the world, and has himself been formed by it?
MR. LOCKE.
Your Lordship, I think, will do well to put philosophy out of the question. There is so much to be said against Travel in that view, that the matter would clearly be determined against you. It is by other rules, and what are called the maxims of the world (which your Lordship understands too well, to join them with philosophy), that the advocate for travelling must demand to have his cause tried, if he would hope to come off, in the dispute, with any advantage.
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
Yet philosophy was not always of this mind. You know, when the best proficients in that science gave a countenance to this practice, by their own example: a good part of their life was spent in foreign countries; and they did not presume to set up for masters of wisdom, till experience and much insight into the manners of men had qualified them for that great office. Hence they became the ablest and wisest men of the whole world; and their wisdom was not in those days of the less account for the politeness, that was mixed with it.
MR. LOCKE.
Those wise men might have their reasons for this different practice. They most of them, I think, set up for Politicians and Legislators, as well as Philosophers; and in that infancy of arts and commerce, when distant nations had small intercourse with each other, it might be of real advantage to them, at least it might serve their reputation with the people, to spend some years in voyages to such countries as were in the highest fame for their wisdom or good government.
Besides, the Sages of those times made a wondrous mystery of their wisdom: a sure sign, perhaps, that they were not over-stocked with it. It was confined to certain schools and fraternities; or was locked up still more closely in the breasts of particular persons. Knowledge was not then diffused in books and general conversation, as amongst us; but was to be obtained by frequenting the academies or houses of those privileged men, who, by a thousand ambitious arts, had drawn to themselves the applause and veneration of the rest of the world.
All this might be said in favour of your Lordship’s old Sages. Yet one of them, who deserved that name the best, was no great Traveller. I remember to have read, that Socrates had never stirred out of Athens; and that, when his admirers would sometimes ask him why he affected this singularity, he was used to say, That Stones and Trees did not edify him: intimating, I suppose, that the sight of fine towns and fine countries, which the voyagers of those days, as of ours, made a matter of much vanity, was the principal fruit they had reaped to themselves from their fashionable labours.
However, allowing your lordship to make the most of these respectable authorities for the use of travelling, it must still be remembered, that they are wide of our present purpose. They were Sages, that travelled: and we are now inquiring, whether this be the way for young men to become Sages. Plato might pick up more learning in his Voyages, than any body since has been able to understand; and yet a youth of eighteen be little the wiser for staring away two or three years in mysterious Egypt.
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
Why, truly, if he carried nothing abroad with him but the use of his eye-sight, I should be much of your mind with regard to the improvements he might be expected to bring back with him. But let him hear and observe a little, as well as see; and methinks a youth of eighteen might pick up something of value, though he should not return laden with the mysteries of Egypt.
As to the gaiety on the ancient Sages, I could be much entertained with it, if I did not recollect that the more enlightened moderns have, also, been of their mind in this instance. To say nothing of other countries, which yet have risen in reputation for knowledge and civility in proportion to their acquaintance with the neighbouring nations, surely it must be allowed of our own, that all its valuable acquisitions in both have been forwarded at least, if not occasioned, by this reasonable practice. We are now, without doubt, arrived at the summit of politeness, and may subsist at length upon our own proper stock. But was this always the case? And must it not be acknowledged, that the brightest periods of our story are those, in which our noble youth were fashioned in the school of foreign Travel? You will hardly pretend that the ornaments of the second Charles’ and Elizabeth’s courts were cast in the coarse mould of this home-breeding.
MR. LOCKE.
I shall perhaps carry my pretensions still further, and affirm it had been much better if they had been so.
I know what is to be said for the voyagers in Elizabeth’s time. We were just then emerging from ignorance and barbarity. Learning and the Arts were but then getting up; and were best acquired, we will say, in foreign schools, and the commerce of other nations, which might have the start of us in such improvements. The state of Europe at that time was not unlike what I observed of the old world, when knowledge was in few hands, and the exclusive property, as it were, of particular persons. So that it was to be travelled for, and fetched home, by such as would have it. Italy, in particular, was in those days, as it had long been, the theatre of politeness, and without doubt could furnish us with very much of the learning we most wanted.
This then was the fashionable route of our curious and courtly youth: and many accomplished persons, I can readily admit, were to be found in the number of our Italian Travellers. Yet, methinks, they had done better to stay at home, and at least import the arts of Italy, if they were necessary to them, in sager heads than their own.
I say this, because it is no secret that the civility, we thus acquired, was dearly paid for; and that irreligion, and even Atheism, were packed up among their choicest gleanings, and shewn about, at their return, as curiosities, which could not but very much enhance the consideration of those who had been to gather them beyond the mountains[39].
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
Or, shall we say, that this impiety of the time was only employed to correct its superstition? And that the philosophic spirits of that age trafficked in these wares, as thinking them a proper antidote to such as another set of missionaries largely dealt in: I mean, the agnus Dei’s, holy beads, and consecrated medals?
MR. LOCKE.
Take it which way you will, the conclusion, I believe, will scarcely be much in favour of our Italian Travellers.—As to the worthies of Charles’s court, your Lordship, without doubt, is disposed to divert yourself with them. For, if they brought any thing with them from France, besides the dress of its follies and vices (excepting always the sacred babble of their language), it is a secret which it has not been my fortune to be apprized of.
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
And so, because Travelling may, by accident, be attended with some ill effects, you roundly determine against the thing itself; as if the national improvement in arts and civility, which unquestionably arose from it, were to go for nothing!
MR. LOCKE.
I would have it go for no more than it is honestly worth; which surely is something less than the price paid for it, our principles and our morals. And I doubt the truth is, that this degeneracy in both was the usual acquisition of our travelled youth, and the improvement, your Lordship speaks of, only the accidental benefit.
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
Without doubt, there is no extending our acquaintance with the world, but we run the risk of catching its vices, as well as virtues. Yet, push this conclusion as far as it will go, and you shut up mankind in absolute and incurable barbarism. Such is the unhappy condition of human nature, that in striving to cultivate its powers, you furnish the opportunities, at least, of its corruption. Yet to leave it in that sordid state, for fear of those abuses, is methinks but acting with the weak apprehension of fond mothers; who deny their children the liberty of stirring from the fire-side, for fear of the dirt or damp air, which, in their field-exercises, may chance to incommode them.
MR. LOCKE.
The allusion would be apt, if the health of the mind, as of the body, depended on the use of such liberty; or if it were true, that one could as little help breathing the air of vice, as that of the heavens. But, though I have heard much of the dangers to which Virtue is exposed in this bad world, I have never understood that Vice is its proper element.
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
Yet methinks, Sir, it will be hard to keep clear of it in any part of the world, that I am acquainted with: unless perhaps you take this happy Island of ours to be as free from Vice, as a Neighbouring one, they say, is from Venom.
MR. LOCKE.
There are, however, degrees in Vice, as well as varieties of it; and I cannot think it necessary for us to be greater proficients than we are, or to import new species of it; by rambling into countries where it may chance to rage with greater virulence, or where such modes of it, at least, prevail, as are luckily unknown to us. And such, I doubt, were the fruits of our Italian and French travels.
But allowing that Vice were of every clime, the same every where, and equally malignant, I should still imagine our youth to be safer from the infection at home, under the eye and wing of their own parents or families, than wandering at large in foreign countries, with as little care of others, as prudence of their own, to guard them from this danger.
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
Yes, if they were turned loose into this wicked world, and left to their own devices. But, what if some sage Philosopher—
MR. LOCKE.
Some God, you would say, in the shape of a Tutor; for a mere mortal Guide of that stamp is not easily met with. Or, if He were, his wisdom, I doubt, would hardly give him the authority, he stands in need of, for the discharge of his function. But I take your Lordship’s raillery, and could say in my turn, But what if some inquisitive and well-disposed young Nobleman—
After all, we may let these two voyagers, so well matched and fitted to each other, proceed on their journey. The question at present is of no such rarities; but of raw, ignorant, ungovernable boys, on the one hand, and of shallow, servile, and interested governors, on the other. And if any good can arise from such worthies as these, sauntering within the circle of the grand Tour, the magic of travelling can call up more than I have ever yet seen.
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
It may be true, perhaps, that the advantages of travelling are not so great, or so general, as is sometimes pretended. Yet, on the other hand, that there are advantages, and considerable ones too, can hardly be denied. And to come at length more closely to the point (for what has hitherto passed is but a sort of prelude to the main argument) let me have leave to state those advantages clearly and distinctly to you, and then to request your own proper sense (I mean as a man of the world, according to the advice you just now gave me, and not as a Philosopher) of this practice.
MR. LOCKE.
Is this fair dealing in your Lordship? I supposed that by starting this question you had meant only, as on other occasions, to engage an old man in a little conversation; whereas your purpose, I now find, is to make a formal debate of it.
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
Not a formal debate, but a free conference; for which we seem to have leisure enough; and the subject is, besides, of real importance. I may presume to answer for our friends here, that they will not be displeased to assist at it.
I am aware, as you said, that the practice may be sometimes inconvenient, as it is commonly managed, on the side of morals; and I would not be thought to have benefited so little by yours, and the instructions of my other masters, as not to lay the greatest stress on that consideration.
But, after all, these inconveniences may be pretty well avoided, by the choice of an honest and able governor. Such an one it will not be impossible to find, if the persons concerned be in earnest to look out for him: I do not say in Cells, for a Pedant without manners; and still less, you will say, in Camps, for a mannered man, without principles or letters; but, in the world at large, for some learned and well-accomplished person, who, yet, may not disdain to be engaged in this noblest office of conducting a young gentleman’s education.
Under such a Governor, as this, the danger, to which a young man’s morals may be exposed by early travel, will be tolerably guarded against; and to make amends for the hazard he runs in this respect, I see, on the other hand, so many reasons for breeding young men in this way, so many benefits arising from it at all times, and such peculiar inducements with regard to the present state of our own country, that, I think, we shall hardly be of two minds, when you have attended to them.
MR. LOCKE.
We shall see that in due time. For the present, the serious air, you assume, so different from your wonted manner, secures my attention.
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
I cannot tell what may be the opinion of others; but ignorance and barbarity seem to me to be the parents of the most and the worst vices. Conceit, pride, bigotry, insolence, ferocity, cruelty, are the native product of the human mind, kept uncultivated. Self-love, which makes so predominant a part in the constitution of man, that some sufferers by its excesses have mistaken it for the sole spring of all his actions, naturally engenders these vices, when no care is taken to controul its operations by another principle.
On this account, wise men have had recourse to various expedients; such as the provision of Laws; the culture of Arts and Letters; and, in general, all that discipline which comes under the notion of early tutorage and education. But none of these has been found so effectual to the end in view, or is so immediately directed to the purpose of enlarging the mind, and curing it, at once, of all its obstinate and malignant prejudices, as a knowledge of the world acquired in the way of society, and general conversation.
To say nothing of the solitary sequestered life, which all men agree to term Savage, look only on those smaller knots and fraternities of men, which meet together in our provincial towns and cities, and, without any larger commerce, are confined within the narrow enclosure of their own walls or districts. In as much as this condition is more social than the other, it is, without doubt, more eligible. Yet see how many weak views are entertained by these separate clans, how many fond conceits, and over-weening fancies! The world seems to them shrunk up into their own private circle; just as the heavens appear to children to be contained within the limits of their own horizon.
Extend this prospect of mankind to still greater combinations, to states, kingdoms, nations, and what we call a whole people. By this freer intercourse, indeed, their thoughts take a larger range, and their minds open to more generous and manly conceptions. Yet their native barbarism sticks close to them, and requires to be loosened and worn off by a more social habit, by the experience of a still wider and more thorough communication. Tribes of men, although very numerous, yet, if shut up within one territory, and held closely together under the influence of the same political constitution, easily assimilate, as it were; run into the same common sentiments and opinions; and presently take, in the whole extent of their community, one uniform prevailing character.
Hence the necessity of their still looking beyond their own, into other combinations and societies; that so, as the mind strengthens by this exercise, they may be enabled to shake off their local, as we may say, and territorial prejudices.
Those other societies may not be without their defects, which it will be equally proper to keep clear of. But, by this free prospect of the differences subsisting between different nations, each naturally gets quit of his own peculiar and characteristic vices; and those of others, presenting themselves to our unbiassed observation, are not so readily entertained, or do not cling so fast to us, as what have grown up with us, and, by long unquestioned use, are become, as we well express it, a second nature.
Thus, by this near approach and attrition, as it were, of each other, our rude parts give way; our rough corners are insensibly worn off; and we are polished by degrees into a general and universal humanity.
Externi nequid valeat per læve morari,
to use the poet’s words, though with some small difference, I believe in their application.
What says my friend to these principles? are they just and reasonable? or, am I going to build on precarious and insecure foundations?
MR. LOCKE.
Whatever defect there may be in this foundation, your Lordship, as a wise architect, is for sparing no cost or pains in providing for its stability. Yet, methinks, you go deeper for it, than you need. At least, I did not expect your defence of Travelling would require you to make these profound researches into human nature.
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
I take your meaning. These researches, you would say, are so little profound, that I might have spared myself the trouble of making them at all, at least in conversation with a philosopher. Be that as it will; provided the principles themselves, I am contending for, be well founded. For the conclusion necessarily follows, “That therefore FOREIGN TRAVEL is, of all others, the most important and essential part of Education.”
The youth of the most accomplished people in Europe would have much to correct in themselves, and something, perhaps, to learn, in their voyages into the neighbouring nations; however inferior to their own, in the general state of knowledge and politeness. What then must be the case of our English youth, confined in this remote corner among themselves, and indulged in their own rustic and licentious habits?
Our country has never been famous for the civility of its inhabitants. We have, rather, been stigmatized in all ages, and are still considered by the rest of Europe, as proud, churlish, and unsocial. The very circumstance of our Island-situation seems to expose us to the just reproach of inhospitality. And if, with this disadvantage, we should cherish, and not correct, those vices which so naturally spring from it, what less could we expect than to be distinguished by such names, as our ill-manners would well deserve, though our pride might suffer from the application of them?
It seems then to be an inevitable consequence of what has been said, that we of this country have a more than ordinary occasion for the benefits of foreign travel. And the reason of the thing shews, they cannot be obtained too soon. Young minds are the fittest to take the ply of civility and good manners. The task is less easy, and the success more uncertain, when we enter upon this business late in life; when intractable humours have gathered strength, and the unsocial manner is become habitual to us. Whatever may be objected to the incapacity of this age in other respects, youth is out of question the time for acquiring right propensities and virtuous habits.
MR. LOCKE.
Your Lordship has so many good words at command upon all occasions, that one cannot but be entertained, at least, with your rhetoric, if not convinced by it. But my present concern is, to have a clear conception of your argument, which in plain terms, as I apprehend it, stands thus; “That every nation has many vices and follies to correct in itself; that this is perhaps more especially the case of our own; and that early Travel is the only, at least the most proper, cure for them.”
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
That, Sir, is my meaning; and, though expressed in more words than may be necessary, it is surely not coloured by any rhetorical exaggerations. But you must allow me to proceed in my own way, and enforce the general argument, I have delivered, by applying it to the particular exigencies and necessities of our English youth.
You, who have been abroad in the world, and have so just a knowledge of other states and countries, tell me, if there can be any thing more ridiculous than the idiot PREJUDICES of our home-bred gentlemen; which shew themselves, whenever their own dear Island comes, in any respect, to be the topic of conversation. What wondrous conceits of their own prowess, wisdom, nay of their manners and politeness! With what disdain is a foreigner mentioned by them, and with what apparent signs of aversion is his very person treated! They scarcely give you leave to suppose that any virtuous quality can thrive out of their own air, or that good sense can be expressed in any foreign language. Nay, their foolish prepossession extends to their very soil and climate. Such warm patriots are they, such furious lovers of their country, that they will have it to be the theatre of all convenience, delight, and beauty.
“To hear their discourse among themselves, one would imagine that the finest lands near the Euphrates, the Babylonian or Persian Paradises, the rich plains of Egypt, the Græcian Tempe, the Roman Campania, Lombardy, Provence, the Spanish Andalusia, or the most delicious tracts in the Eastern or Western Indies, were contemptible countries in respect of what they dote upon under the name of Old England[40].”
Now, if it were only for the sake of truth and decency, if it were but to avoid the ridicule to which these palpable absurdities and childish fancies expose them, one cannot but wish that our countrymen would open their eyes, and extend their prospect beyond their own foggy air, and dirty acres.
But this is the least inconvenience of their home breeding. How many low HABITS and sordid practices grow upon our youth of fortune, and even of quality, from the influence of their family, or at best provincial, education!
They retain so much of their Saxon or Norman character, that their noblest passion is that of the Chace; unless a horse-race may, haply, contend with it. Their ideas are all taken from the stable or kennel; and they have hardly words for any other sort of conversation.
In conjunction with this habit, or in direct consequence of it, they plunge themselves into the brutalities of the bottle and table. Having little use of the faculty of thinking or discoursing on any reasonable subject, they care not how soon they disable themselves for either. To this end, their surloins are of sovereign effect; and if any spark of the divine particle be still unsubdued, they quench it forthwith in the strongest wines, or, which suits their taste and design best, in their own country liquor.
This sottish debauch leads to others. My young master will be denied no animal gratification. And thus low intrigues and vulgar amours follow of course, in which the sum of his refined pleasures is, at length, completed.
The rest of his life runs on in this drowzy tenour; unless perhaps you except those intervals, which can hardly be called lucid, when his half-closed understanding seems stunned, rather than awakened, by party-rage, election bustle, and the noise of faction.
Admirable patriots these! and usefuller citizens by far, than if they had acquired some relish of temperance, decency, and reason, in foreign courts, and the more improved societies of Europe.
But suppose our young gentleman to have escaped this sordid taste, and by better luck than ordinary to have finished his home education without much injury to his morals. Nay, suppose him to be inured, in good time, to better discipline, and to have had the advantage of what is called amongst us, by a violent figure of speech, a liberal education.
To put the case at the best, suppose him to have been well whipped through one of our public schools, and to come full fraught, at length, with Latin and Greek, from his college. You see him, now, on the verge of the world, and just ready to step into it. But, good heavens, with what PRINCIPLES and MANNERS? His spirit broken by the servile awe of pedants, and his body unfashioned by the genteeler exercises! Timid at the same time, and rude; illiberal and ungraceful! An absurd compound of abject sentiments, and bigoted notions, on the one hand; and of clownish, coarse, ungainly demeanor, on the other! In a word, both in mind and person, the furthest in the world from any thing that is handsome, gentlemanlike, or of use and acceptation in good company!
Bring but one of these grown boys into a circle of well-bred people, such as his rank and fortune entitle him, and in a manner oblige him, to live with: and see how forbidding his air, how embarrassed all his looks and motions! His awkward attempts at civility would provoke laughter, if, again, his rustic painful bashfulness did not excite one’s pity. What wonder if the young man, under these circumstances, is glad to shrink away, as soon as possible, from so constraining a situation; and to seek the low society of his inferiors, at least of such as himself among his equals, where he can be at ease, and give a loose to his unformed and disorderly behaviour!
But now, on the other hand, let a young gentleman, who has been trained abroad; who has been accustomed to the sight and conversation of men; who has learnt his exercises, has some use of the languages, and has read his Horace or Homer in good company; let such an one, at his return, make his appearance in the best societies; and see with what ease and address he sustains his part in them! how liberal his air and manner! how managed and decorous his delivery of himself! In short, how welcome to every body, and how prepared to acquit himself in the ordinary commerce of the world, and in conversation!
I should think, if there were no other advantage of early travel, beside this of manners, it were well worth setting against all the other inconveniences, whatever they be, of this sort of Education.
MR. LOCKE.
Good my Lord——
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
I know what you would say: that manners, in the proper acceptation of the word, at least in the sense of wise men, implies much more than the ease, assurance, civility, (call it what you will) which a young Traveller is supposed to acquire in his intercourse with the politer nations. Without doubt, it does. But give me this foundation of good breeding to work upon; and if I had the tutorage of a noble youth, I durst be answerable for all the rest, which even a philosopher includes in his sublime notion of manners: whereas, without it, his improvements of other sorts would be almost thrown away; nay, his virtues themselves would be offensive and unlovely.
But do not imagine I confine myself to manners in the obvious meaning of that term. I further understand by it an ability for ingenuous, useful, and manly conversation. For a traveller, that makes the proper use of his opportunities, will be all of a piece, and return as polished in his mind and understanding, as in his person.
And here, again, how deficient is the turn and course of our ordinary education! Whither would you send our young pupil, to accomplish himself in the necessary art of speaking handsomely and thinking justly? What companions have you provided for him, or what instructors in this man-science will you direct him to? shall he court the acquaintance of some lettered pedagogue in the schools, or solicit the precious communication of some famed professor in the occult sciences? Wonderful models of correct wit, sublime sense, and elegant expression!
I have read of an ancient Rhetorician, that took upon him to teach others the art of speaking; but in such a way, says my author, that if a man had a mind to learn the art of not speaking, he could not have been directed to an abler master.
I forbear the application of my little tale, out of pure respect to the modern disciples and ornaments of this ancient school; and, without pushing matters so far, it will be owned, that whatever advantage of this sort may be left at home, the loss will be amply made up to an inquisitive traveller, on the Continent. France, and even Italy, abounds in men of distinguished literature and politeness. Nay, a German Professor may supply the place of an University Doctor. Think, what illustrious persons may be sometimes met with even in a Dutch town: and how many instructive hours you and I have passed in conversation with such knowing, candid, and accomplished scholars, as Le Clerc and Limborch. Philosophy, and even Divinity, could take a liberal air, under their management; and eloquence itself might be learned, on almost every subject, in their company.
I consider then the acquaintance and familiarity of men of eminent parts and genius, as another considerable benefit resulting from this way of foreign education.
Still there are higher things in view (for, now I have ventured thus far in the dogmatic tone, I find myself, like our authorized teachers, a little impatient of control, and in a humour to run myself out without lett or interruption); still, I say, there are higher advantages in view from travelled culture and education.
You may think as slightly as you please, of the exterior polish of manners, or may even treat as superficial the information that can be acquired in good company. But what say you to that supreme accomplishment, a KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLD; a science so useful, as to supersede or disgrace all the rest; and so profound, as to merit all the honours, and to fill up all the measures of the best philosophy? For, by a knowledge of the world, I mean that which results from the observation of men and things; from an acquaintance with the customs and usages of other nations; from some insight into their policies, government, religion; in a word, from the study and contemplation of men; as they present themselves on the great stage of the world, in various forms, and under different appearances. This is that master-science, which a gentleman should comprehend, and which our schools and colleges never heard of.
I know this science is too difficult to be perfectly acquired, but by long habit and mature reflection. I know it is not to be expected from a slight survey of mankind; from a hasty passage through the different countries, or a short residence in the great towns, of Europe. All this I am not to be told; but it must be allowed me at the same time, that so important a study cannot be entered upon too soon, and that the rudiments at least of this science cannot be laid in too early.
The proper business of men, especially those of rank and quality, lies among men. The first and last object of a Gentleman should be an intimate study and knowledge of his species. Say, that some chapters of this great book, the world, are above his reach, and too hard for his decyphering. Yet others are easier and more manageable. Initiate a young man betimes in these pursuits; and his progress, as in other things, must be the more sure and successful.
Above all, let him be taught to give an early attention to the manners of men, to observe their dispositions, to inspect and analyze their characters. What a field is here for an intelligent young man, assisted by the superior lights and experience of an able governor! And what a harvest of true knowledge and learning must he gather and bring home with him, from the numberless varied scenes he has passed through in his voyages! With what lustre must such a person appear in the court or senate of his own country! How secure against the attempts of artifice and design! the plots of insidious enemies, or the pretences of false friends! how apt for the business of life, and for bearing his part in public debates and cabinet-consultations!
MR. LOCKE.
Your Lordship declaims so handsomely on this theme, that I am something loth to spoil your panegyric by asking a plain question, “How this knowledge of the public affairs of his own country is to be come at, by foreign politics?”
LORD SHAFTESBURY.
As if the objects of that knowledge were not every where much the same! Bigotry or Fanaticism in religion, selfish or factious intrigues in government, neglected or ill-improved agriculture or commerce, insolence and want of discipline in fleets and armies, a bad-constituted police under venal magistrates, and a corrupt administration; are not these the principal mischiefs to be guarded against by our young citizen, or perhaps senator? And where is the country, which does not afford opportunities of laying in useful lessons on all these subjects?
To say the least, a little home-practice will go a great way, when entered upon with so true a preparation of general knowledge. On the other hand, it hardly needs to be observed, the disadvantage, with which our young Islander must come into this scene; a novice to the affairs of the world; a stranger to men and characters; and who has never perhaps stretched his observation beyond the narrow circle of his companions, or even his own family.
My panegyric, as you call this plain representation of facts and things, would never have an end, if I were to take to myself all the advantages, which this topic of an early knowledge of the world in a young traveller affords me. But I leave the rest to be supplied out of these hints; and pass on to other considerations, which seem of moment to the credit and reputation of our country, and to the accomplishment, at least, of our ingenuous youth; however they may rank in the estimation of some, who in modern times have assumed to themselves the name and office of Philosophers.
You, who have so much a nobler way of thinking than these nominal sages, will allow me, I hope, to lay some stress on the LIBERAL ARTS; which adorn and embellish human life; and, where they prevail to some degree of perfection, are among the surest marks of the civility and politeness of any people.
It is notorious enough how backward we have been, and still are, in all these elegant and muse-like applications. There is little or nothing in the way of picture, sculpture, and the arts of design among us, that can stand the test of a knowing and judicious eye. It is but of late we have begun to form to ourselves any thing like an ear in harmony and the proportions of just music. And whatever magisterial airs our fashionable workmen in the dramatic and poetical kinds may give themselves in their prologues and prefaces, it is no secret to such as have looked into the ancient masters, or have made an acquaintance with the style and manner of the politer moderns, that we are far from possessing a right taste in these things, and that the Muses have hitherto shewn themselves but little indulgent to us.
The courtship, we have paid to them, has been pressing and ardent, if you will; but this circumstance, though it may do much, nay is thought to do every thing with the sex, seems not to have succeeded with these coy Ladies. Passion and assiduity are not the only things: somewhat of an address and management is looked for in our advances. Wherever the defect lies, and whatever be the cure for it, certain it is, there is much of the Gothic manner in the performances of our best artists: there is neither chasteness of design, nor elegance of hand, in our manual operations: nothing like correctness of thought, simplicity of style, or the grace of numbers, in our literate productions.
’Tis true, the strength and vigour of our genius has been exerted in other things. We have been solicitous to procure a just taste in policy and government, and have at length succeeded in this first and highest emulation. It may now be proper to apply the liberty, we have so happily gained, to other improvements. There is something, I have ever observed, congenial to the liberal arts in the reigning spirit of a free people. It must then be our own fault, if our progress in every elegant pursuit do not keep pace with our excellent constitution.
But the likeliest way to quicken the growth of these studies, is to turn our attention from the bad models of our own country, and enter into a free commerce and generous struggle, as it were, with our more advanced neighbours. And it is here again, as in the manners and arts of life, the seeds of good taste cannot be committed to the mind too soon. It were then to be wished, that our young men had right impressions of art in their tender years; and that, forming their relish among the ablest proficients in Europe, they might afterwards communicate their improvements to their own country.
Thus, it might be hoped, in some convenient time, we should have something of our own to oppose to the wit, learning, and elegance of France; and that, in the mechanic execution of the fine arts, we should come at length to vye with the Italian masters.
Nor think, that such an emulation as this would be without its use, even in a moral and political view. Beauty and virtue are nearer of kin, than every one is perhaps aware of: and the mind that is taken with the charm of what is true and becoming in the representation of sensible things, cannot be inattentive to those qualities in the higher species and moral forms. It is thither indeed the virtuoso passion naturally tends; and there, it finally acquiesces.
Quid VERUM atque DECENS curo et rogo, et omnis in hoc sum.
But I see what you think of this language. Let me add then, that policy, as well as philosophy, is on the side of these studies. Who can doubt their virtue in softening and refining the manners of a people? or, to take policy in its vulgar sense, where would be the hurt, if Britain were the seat of arts and letters, as well as of trade and liberty? Then might we be travelled to, in our turn, as our neighbours are at present: and our country, amidst its other acquisitions, be also enriched (I use the word in its proper, not metaphorical sense) with a new species of commerce.
Not to insist, that the ascendant which one nation takes over another in all public concerns, is very much owing to this pre-eminence of taste and politeness, to its acknowledged superiority, I may say, in the literate and virtuoso character; of which France is an instance in our days; as Italy is well known to have been in the days of our forefathers.
And, if there be use and value in such things, how shall our ingenuous youth be tinctured with a right sense of them, but by early and well-conducted travel? For what discipline, what examples, what encouragements, have we at home? what academies for the genteel exercises? what conferences for the improvement of art or language? what societies for the cultivation of the liberal character?
The contemplation of these defects carries me still further; to the source and fountain of them all, which I make no scruple to lay open to you.
“Time was, Sir, when philosophy herself could appear with grace even in courts, when the great and noble, nay and princes themselves, were not ashamed to be of her train, but frequented her studious schools and walks, and were even ambitious of her company in their hours of leisure and recreation.
See now to what unpractised cells and ignoble societies she is degraded! her graceful form faded and shrunk; her ingenuous sprightly air deadened into I know not what gloom and austerity of the cloyster.
You, who have done more than any other, to retrieve her credit and bring her back to the world, can best tell her present degenerate condition. You know where she lies, unapproached by her former suitors; her liberal manner soured into disdain and hate; her persuasive voice, which spoke the language of the Gods, broken into untuned numbers and discordant harshness; and her very sense corrupted into empty sophisms and unintelligible jargon. The Graces, those companions of her better days, are all fled: and in their room, a riotous band of fauns and satyrs dance around her. Yet still she assumes a sort of mock-sovereignty; and, under the new name of Genius of the Schools, presides, in sullen majesty, over her numerous, servile, awe-struck votaries.”
In some such way as this, were I at liberty to pursue the figured speech, and to adopt the higher tone of the ancient masters, would I presume to represent the present state of Erudition, as we see it managed in certain sublime seats and authorized nurseries amongst us.
And would you invite our liberal and noble youth to resort thither? could you expect that their free spirits would stoop to be lectured by bearded boys; or that their minds could ever be formed and tutored by such pedants, in a way that fits them for the real practice of the world and of mankind?
Have we not long enough submitted to the inconveniencies of this monkish education? Look on the generality of those persons who have had their breeding in those seminaries. What principles in morals, in government, in religion, have sprouted thence! what dispositions have we known corrupted by their discipline! what understandings perverted by their servile and false systems! Has truth, or liberty, or reason, fair play from that quarter? Nay, has not truth, and liberty, and reason, though speaking by ONE of their own sons, been calumniated and rejected! In a word, have they not always set themselves to obstruct the progress of true knowledge, and the cause of freedom?
If such then be the state of our own seats of literature and education, what more needs be alleged in the behalf of Foreign Travel; which is the only means left to remedy these mischiefs, or at least to palliate and correct them?