To make our meaning still more clear, let us imagine ourselves a nation of mariners, and of ocean-travellers. We go to school, and learn astronomy, trigonometry, geography, physics, and the like; yet, when we are at sea in any ship whatever, we must neglect our knowledge, and trust implicitly to the captain of our ship. We know that we are, in reality, going southwards, when our proper destination lies to the north: for us it is easy to read the stars, and thus to test both the chronometer and the compass; must we, then, be quiet because we have embarked in a vessel belonging to a certain "line," which is commanded by a master appointed by the "firm" or "company" to which the barque belongs. What is the value of education unless it enables us, when necessary, to find whether we are in the right way or not?
Let us, still further, suppose that we remonstrate with the captain, and that he, in place of arguing the matter fairly, endeavours to override our objections by quoting from ancient geographers, to demonstrate that what we believe to be the wrong is, in reality, the only true way to go; we may be silenced, probably until we accidently discover in the ship's library, a dissertation proving that the old traveller's charts are worthless. When we find out that, what will be our opinion of the captain? Can we believe him to be honest?
If we now were to remonstrate with our naval dictator, and he were to rejoin—"My worthy brothers, I know that you are right, and that I have been wrong. I have, indeed, known it from the time I began to be commander, but my living depends upon my belief in old charts and ancient compasses. I dare not change my plan, for my masters would dismiss me. They know—at least I feel convinced that they are aware, that the old sailing directions are wrong; but they have not the courage to say so, or to alter them—and if I do so, they will cashier me."
Is the "firm" or "company" honest? and if we are to mete out degrees of culpability, to whom must the severest punishment be awarded? Surely, in the case of the Church of England, to her Bishops, who, knowing, as scholars, that their compass and charts are incorrect, yet oblige those under their command to steer by them—thus compelling the men who ought to be standard-bearers in the forefront of intellectual work, either to be silent, or to fight at a disadvantage.
It is the knowledge of the duplicity of a vast number of intelligent divines, which has induced laymen to take the business of education out of the hands of the clergy as a body. The Protestant believes that a Jesuit will not teach correct history; the Romanist feels certain that, even in biography, evangelical narratives cannot be trusted; and Nonconformists generally feel that they cannot rely upon the instruction given by those of a different sect.
It is desirable to sketch, if possible, what would be the condition of society if, in the place of the clergy, there was a set of men trained to the office of instructor, and that all individuals in the kingdom were compelled to attend school for a definite period in their youth. In the first place, nothing would be taught which is not known to be true. After having mastered the rudiments of knowledge, the art of reading, writing, and ciphering, the students would be taught to train their minds in drawing inferences from facts, and the art of passing from imperfect knowledge to certainty. They would be schooled into habits of exactness, and the necessity for careful inquiry before they believed an assertion to have the same power as a fact Those whose inclination led them to study one or more of the arts or sciences, drawing, painting, sculpture, designing, weaving, chemistry, engineering, building, and a host of others, would learn that in every one of them knowledge and precision are required to ensure success.
When the instructor found that his pupils were sufficiently trained to the exercise of reasoning, he would then proceed to explain the ideas which have been entertained by various people about the existence of beings, other than those which can be recognized by the senses. He would lead his class through the geological history of our planet, and point out the sequence of events from the latest formation, to the primary rocks; on his way he would linger on the nature of ancient plants and animals; from our earth he would lead them to a study of the stars, and then point out how very natural is the opinion that all the universe had a designer.
Then, after giving a history of the belief in ancient times, he would gradually descend to our own. He would critically examine the pretensions of any person who had, in former ages, asserted, or who proclaimed now, that he or she knew all about this presumed Creator, and was charged to communicate that knowledge to mankind. After explaining the critical test by which such an assumed mission might be examined—viz., by accurate knowledge of the earth and of mankind, he would apply this trial to all known pretenders to inspiration.
As a result, his pupils might prefer one to another, or refuse to believe in all which have hitherto appeared. In any case, each individual would enter upon the form of faith which he selected with full knowledge of the facts in favour of it. He would, therefore, be a disciple worth having. If, on the other hand, he disbelieved all pretenders to inspiration, his condition would be the result of deliberate reasoning upon ascertained facts, and not built, as all religion now is, upon parrot lore, taught in childhood, ere thoughtfulness has begun to grow.
Assuming that men were thus trained by honest and able instructors, all those people who live upon the weaknesses and the ignorance of the multitude would cease their endeavours to prey upon mankind, and to get a living by playing upon the fears which so many persons have of the unknown. There would then be no religious wars or contests—no popes, prelates, priests, nor deacons. Quackery of all kinds would cease, and statesmen would all agree in endeavouring to procure for mankind the greatest amount of available happiness. This would be the result of honesty. But from such a picture many men absolutely recoil As the effect of training has been to make them believe that unsubstantial things are of sovereign importance, they cannot endure the idea of man being wholly rational; and they insist, as does the late Premier of England, that, if scientific schooling of the mind leads men to neglect what some call Revelation, the plan must be radically bad and worthless. But to eulogise education and to deprecate its results is dishonest. This political tenet or practice resembles that of many a parson, who tells his hearers from the pulpit that they are to "take no thought for the morrow, for the morrow will take thought for the things of itself;" "they are not to take thought for life, for food, for raiment; nor to lay up for themselves treasures upon earth" (Matt vi. 19, 25, 34), and on the week-day urges them to lay by a store against the time of sickness or old age. Such double-dealing is dishonest, and is unworthy of a thoughtful man. If Jesus was right, why not enforce his teaching? if he was wrong, why not say so?