“You are right, sir,” said Leonard, cheerfully; “pray proceed.”
PARSON.—“You ask me why we encourage you to KNOW. First, because (as you say yourself in your Essay) knowledge, irrespective of gain, is in itself a delight, and ought to be something far more. Like liberty, like religion, it may be abused; but I have no more right to say that the poor shall be ignorant than I have to say that the rich only shall be free, and that the clergy alone shall learn the truths of redemption. You truly observe in your treatise that knowledge opens to us other excitements than those of the senses, and another life than that of the moment. The difference between us is this,—that you forget that the same refinement which brings us new pleasures exposes us to new pains; the horny hand of the peasant feels not the nettles which sting the fine skin of the scholar. You forget also, that whatever widens the sphere of the desires opens to them also new temptations. Vanity, the desire of applause, pride, the sense of superiority, gnawing discontent where that superiority is not recognized, morbid susceptibility, which comes with all new feelings, the underrating of simple pleasures apart from the intellectual, the chase of the imagination, often unduly stimulated, for things unattainable below,—all these are surely amongst the first temptations that beset the entrance into knowledge.” Leonard shaded his face with his hand.
“Hence,” continued the parson, benignantly,—“hence, so far from considering that we do all that is needful to accomplish ourselves as men, when we cultivate only the intellect, we should remember that we thereby continually increase the range of our desires, and therefore of our temptations; and we should endeavour, simultaneously, to cultivate both those affections of the heart which prove the ignorant to be God’s children no less than the wise, and those moral qualities which have made men great and good when reading and writing were scarcely known: to wit,—patience and fortitude under poverty and distress; humility and beneficence amidst grandeur and wealth, and, in counteraction to that egotism which all superiority, mental or worldly, is apt to inspire, Justice, the father of all the more solid virtues, softened by Charity, which is their loving mother. Thus accompanied, knowledge indeed becomes the magnificent crown of humanity,—not the imperious despot, but the checked and tempered sovereign of the soul.”
The parson paused, and Leonard, coming near him, timidly took his hand, with a child’s affectionate and grateful impulse.
RICCAROCCA.—“And if, Leonard, you are not satisfied with our parson’s excellent definitions, you have only to read what Lord Bacon himself has said upon the true ends of knowledge to comprehend at once how angry the poor great man, whom Mr. Dale treats so harshly, would have been with those who have stinted his elaborate distinctions and provident cautions into that coxcombical little aphorism, and then misconstrued all he designed to prove in favour of the commandment, and authority of learning. For,” added the sage, looking up as a man does when he is tasking his memory, “I think it is thus that after saying the greatest error of all is the mistaking or misplacing the end of knowledge, and denouncing the various objects for which it is vulgarly sought,—I think it is thus that Lord Bacon proceeds: ‘Knowledge is not a shop for profit or sale, but a rich storehouse for the glory of the Creator, and the relief of men’s estate.’”
[“But the greatest error of all the rest is the mistaking or
misplacing of the last or farthest end of knowledge: for men have
entered into a desire of learning and knowledge, sometimes upon a
natural curiosity and inquisitive appetite; sometimes to entertain
their minds with variety and delight; sometimes for ornament and
reputation; and sometimes to enable them to victory of wit and
contradiction; and most times for lucre and profession”—[that is,
for most of those objects which are meant by the ordinary titers of
the saying, “Knowledge is power”]—“and seldom sincerely to give a
true account of these gifts of reason to the benefit and use of men,
as if there were sought in knowledge a couch whereupon to rest a
searching and restless spirit; or a terrace for a wandering and
variable mind to walk up and down, with a fair prospect; or a tower
of state for a proud mind to raise itself upon; or a fort or
commanding ground for strife and contention; or a shop for profit or
sale,—and not a rich storehouse for the glory of the Creator, and
the relief of men’s estate.”—Advancement of Learning, Book I.]
PARSON (remorsefully).—“Are those Lord Bacon’s words? I am very sorry I spoke so uncharitably of his life. I must examine it again. I may find excuses for it now that I could not when I first formed my judgment. I was then a raw lad at Oxford. But I see, Leonard, there is still something on your mind.”
LEONARD.—“It is true, sir: I would but ask whether it is not by knowledge that we arrive at the qualities and virtues you so well describe, but which you seem to consider as coming to us through channels apart from knowledge?”
PARSON.—“If you mean by the word ‘knowledge’ something very different from what you express in your Essay—and which those contending for mental instruction, irrespective of religion and ethics, appear also to convey by the word—you are right; but, remember, we have already agreed that by the word’ knowledge’ we mean culture purely intellectual.”
LEONARD.—“That is true,—we so understood it.”