17. For what difference is there between him who now labours and toils for that knowledge, which in a little time he shall be easily and fully possessed of, and him that dearly buys an estate, which would otherwise come to him after a short interval? Only this; that he who buys the estate, though he might have spared his money, however gets what he laid it out for. His expence indeed was needless, but not in vain. Whereas he that drudges in the pursuit of knowledge, not only toils for that which in a short time he shall have, and in abundance, but which after all he can’t compass, and so undergoes a vain as well as needless labour.
*18. Again, What difference is there between him, who when he is upon business of life and death, shall alight from his horse, and stand to hear a nightingale sing, and him who having an eternity of happiness to secure, and only this point of time to do it in, shall yet turn virtuoso, and set up for learning and curiosity? ’Tis true the nightingale sings well, and ’twere worth while to stand still and hear her, were I disengaged from more concerning affairs; but not when I am upon life and death. And so knowledge is an excellent thing, and would deserve my study and time, had I any to spare; but not when I have so great an interest as that of my final state depending upon the good use of it. My business now is not to be learned, but to be good.
*19. For is my life so long, am I so over-stocked with time, or is my depending interest so little, or so easily secured, that I can find leisure for unnecessary curiosities? Is this conduct agreeable to the present posture of man, whose entrance into this world, and whose whole stay in it is purely in order to another state? Or would any one imagine this to be the condition of man by such a conduct? Shall a prisoner, who has but a few days allowed him to make a preparation for his trial, spend that little opportunity in cutting and carving, and such like mechanical contrivances? Or would any one imagine such a man to be in such a condition, near a doubtful trial of life and death, whom coming into a prison he should find so employed? And yet is there any thing more absurd in this, than to have a man, who has so great a concern upon his hands, as the preparing for eternity, all busy and taken up with quadrants and telescopes, furnaces, syphons and air-pumps?
20. When we would expose any signal impertinence, we commonly illustrate it by the example of Archimedes; who was busy in making mathematical figures on the sands of Syracuse, while the city was stormed by Marcellus, and so, tho’ particular orders were given for his safety, lost his life by his unseasonable study. Now, I confess there was absurdity enough in this instance, to consign it over to posterity: but had Archimedes been a Christian, I should have said, that the main of his impertinence did not lie here, in being mathematically employed when the enemy was taking the city, but in laying out his thoughts and time in so unconcerning a study, while he had no less a concern upon him, than the securing his eternal interest, which must be done now or never. Nothing certainly is an impertinence if this be not, to hunt after knowledge in such a juncture as this!
21. Many other proceedings in the conduct of life, are condemned as vanity and impertinence, though not half so inconsistent with the character of man, nor so disagreeable to his present posture. The pens of moral writers have been all along employed against them who spent their short and uncertain lives, which ought to be spent in pursuing an infinitely higher interest, in gaping up and down after honour and preferments, in long and frequent attendances at court, in raising families, in getting estates, and the like. These are condemned not only for their particular viciousness, as crimes of ambition and covetousness, but for what they have all in common, as they are misspendings of time, and unconcerning employments.
22. Now I would fain know, whether any of these be more expensive of our time, more remote from the main business of life, and consequently more impertinent, than to be busily employed in the niceties and curiosities of learning? And whether a man that loiters away six weeks in court-attendances, be not every whit as accountably employed, as he that spends the same time in solving a mathematical question, as Mr. Des Cartes in one of his epistles confesses himself to have done? Why should the prosecution of learning be the only thing excepted from the vanities and impertinences of life?
23. And yet so it is. All other unconcerning employments are cried down merely for being so, as not consistent with the present state of man, with the character he now bears. This alone is not content with the reputation of innocence, but stands for positive merit and excellence. To say a man is a lover of knowledge, and a diligent enquirer after truth, is thought almost as great an encomium as you can give him; and the time spent in the study, though in the search of the most impertinent truth, is reckoned almost as laudably employed as that in the chapel. ’Tis learning only that is allowed (so inconsistent with itself is human judgment) not only to divide, but to devour the greatest part of our short life; and that is the only thing which with credit and public allowance stands in competition with the study of virtue: nay, by the most is preferred before it, who had rather be accounted learned than pious.
*24. But is not this a strange competition? We confess that knowledge is a glorious excellence. Yet rectitude of will is a far greater excellence than brightness of understanding: and to be good, is a more glorious perfection than to be wise and knowing, this being if not the only, certainly the principal difference between an angel and a devil. ’Tis far better, to use the expression of Mr. Poiret, like an infant without much reasoning, to love much, than like the devil, to reason much without love.
25. But suppose knowledge were a more glorious excellence than it is; suppose it were a greater perfection than virtue; yet still this competition would be utterly against reason; since we can’t have the former now in any measure, and shall have it hereafter without measure: but the latter we may have now (for we may love much tho’ we cannot know much) and can’t have it hereafter. Now the question is, whether we ought to be more [♦]sollicitous for that intellectual perfection, which we can’t have here and shall have hereafter; or that moral perfection, which we may have here, and cannot have hereafter? And I think we need not consult an oracle, or conjure up a spirit, to be resolved.
[♦] “solicitious” replaced with “sollicitous” for consistency