[160] Gibbon, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, ii. 185. von Eicken, Geschichte der mittelalterlichen Weltanschauung, pp. 128–130, 589 sqq.
[161] 1 Corinthians, iii. 19. Cf. Lactantius, Divines Institutiones, iii. 3 (Migne, Patrologiæ cursus, vi. 354 sqq.); St. Augustine, De Civitate Dei, viii. 10 (Migne, xli. 234).
[162] Chapelain, De la lecture des vieux romans, p. 20. As late as the middle of the seventeenth century a powerful party was rising in England who said that all learning was unfavourable to religion, and that it was sufficient for everyone to be acquainted with his mother-tongue alone (Twells, Life of Pocock, p. 176). The Duke de Saint Simon, who in 1721 and 1722 was the French ambassador in Madrid, states (Mémoires, xxxv. 209) that in Spain science was a crime, and ignorance and stupidity the chief virtues.
[163] Lecky, Rationalism in Europe, ii. 87 sq.
[164] Ritchie, Natural Rights, p. 172. Cf. Kuenen, Hibbert Lectures on National Religions and Universal Religions, p. 290.
[165] Réville, Prolegomena of the History of Religions, p. 226.
[166] Aristotle, Ethica Nicomachea, i. 6. 1. Prof. Ritchie argues (op. cit. p. 172 sq.) that a devotion to truth as such was in the ancient world known only to a few philosophers. Prof. Fowler is probably more correct in saying (Principles of Morals, ii. 45, 220 sq.; Progressive Morality, p. 114) that it was more common amongst the Greeks than amongst ourselves.
[167] Procopius, De bello Gothorum, i. 2. Robertson, History of the Reign of Charles V. i. 234. Millingen, op. cit. i. 22 sq. n. †
[168] Alain Chartier, quoted by Sainte-Palaye, op. cit. ii. 104. See also De la Nouë, Discours politiques et militaires, p. 238; Lyttleton, Life of Henry II. ii. 246 sq. The ignorance of the mediæval clergy has been somewhat exaggerated by Robertson (op. cit. pp. 21, 22, 278 sq.). Even in the dark ages it was not a very uncommon thing for the clergy to be able to read and write (Maitland, The Dark Ages, p. 16 sqq.).
The regard for knowledge springs in the first instance from the love of it. As Aristotle said, “all men are by nature desirous of knowledge.”[169] But this feeling is not equally strong, nor equally deep, in all. The curiosity of savages, however great it often may be,[170] has chiefly reference to objects or events which immediately concern their welfare or appear to them alarming, or to trifles which attract attention on account of their novelty. If their curiosity were more penetrating, they would no longer remain savages; an extended desire of knowledge leads to civilisation. But curiosity or love of knowledge, whether in savage or civilised men, is not resolvable merely into views of utility; as Dr. Brown observed, we feel it without reflecting on the pleasure which we are to enjoy or the pain which we are to suffer.[171] When highly developed, it drives men to scientific investigations even though no practical benefits are expected from the results. This devotion to truth for its own sake, pure and disinterested as it is, has a singular tendency to excite regard and admiration in everyone who has come under its influence. From the utilitarian point of view it has been defended on the ground that, on the whole, every truth is in the long run useful and every error harmful, and that we can never exactly tell in advance what benefits may accrue even from a knowledge which is apparently fruitless. But it seems that our love of truth is somewhat apt to mislead our moral judgment. When duly reflecting on the matter, we cannot help making a moral distinction between him who pursues his studies merely from an instinctive craving for knowledge, and him who devotes his life to the search of truth from a conviction that he may thereby promote human welfare.