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Culture of the Intellect.

The object of the intellect is Truth. Therefore, the greater the number of truths with which it is furnished, and the higher the order to which they belong, the higher, evidently, the culture of the individual.

Let us re-examine, and from another point of view, what secular culture can do for the intellect. Let us begin with science.

Who of us has not often paused to view the artificer at work? Though mere mechanical skill is the very lowest order of knowledge, yet we gaze with pleasure while his skilful hands rapidly fashion matter according to the rules of his art. In proportion as the order of knowledge rises, the amount of training required by the intellect rises also; and the number of those who have opportunities of receiving such training, and intellects capable of receiving it, diminishes. Some are just barely capable of learning to read and write. Others pass beyond these and acquire a smattering of languages before reaching their limit. An immense number are almost utterly unable to think for themselves. They have few ideas of their own, and whatever ideas they have, whether original or borrowed, float confusedly before their eyes, without their being able to grasp them, range them in order, compare them, and draw conclusions from them. The great multitude halt on the gentle slopes of the Hill of Science. As it grows more steep and rugged, the strength and courage of the climbers fail, and but few of the strongest and most daring struggle to the summit. How few, for instance, penetrate to the higher regions of mathematics, and with what respect are they justly regarded by those who lack the abilities, or the application, or the opportunities—for all are needed—requisite to follow them. It is truly a noble science. It sharpens most keenly the intellectual faculties, throws open to its votaries vast fields of discovery, and enables them to shed floods of light on astronomy and the kindred natural sciences; not only clearing up obscure points, but actually indicating what would otherwise have never been even suspected, and predicting results which seem incredible till experiment has verified them.

But this lofty pinnacle is not for the many, but the few.

Let us see what the fine arts can do towards civilising the multitude.

As music and painting appeal directly to the senses, they lie evidently within the reach of a larger number; yet even here, the moment we begin to examine, the number shrinks astonishingly. We must not confound in one class the artist and those who derive delight from his art. Recall the names of all the illustrious masters of whom you have ever heard. What are they in comparison with all the millions that have lived and died on earth, in comparison even with the millions that compose a single nation? A handful of drops taken from the ocean. Let us now see what it does for the mass who do not understand music scientifically, but who go to enjoy an agreeable sensation. How often can they go? How many are there whose means and occupations will allow them to go a dozen or even half a dozen times in the year? And then, would it be so very desirable that the "higher enjoyments" should be thrown open to all? Painting and statuary, where all that licentious poets have sung is depicted to the eye; and the theatre, where the licentious statues become animated, mock at the most sacred ties, deride modesty, and plead the cause of vice before sensual passions that are only too surely sworn to give a verdict of approval? How imposing to hear secular civilisation talk of a "life made liberal to as many as possible by knowledge and beauty!" But, as usual, what a wretched imposture when we strip off the fine words, and look upon the poor dead thing that lies beneath!

And so the Secularists are driven back, step by step, till they would probably be only too glad to cling to "reading, writing, and arithmetic" as a last refuge; but even here, the as many as possible, are but very few. In England, in the year 1846, one in eleven could read, that is, of the twenty-two millions of inhabitants, two millions could read and twenty millions could not. We are naturally still more backward in Ireland, where you will remember our schools were deliberately destroyed, and education was forbidden under pain of death! Here the Secularists might fairly object that these twenty millions include children not of an age to read. True; but, putting these aside, the number of those who are of the proper age, yet cannot read, is still far above two millions. But the force of my argument is not in this. I say nothing of the millions who will reach and pass that age without learning the letters. I shall even allow, by way of argument, that the Secularists will accomplish all they aim at. What I condemn is the meanness and worthlessness of what they propose. We have seen that the object of the intellect is Truth. Beading is not truth. It is but a channel, through which truth or falsehood, good or evil, may reach the soul. According, therefore, to the precautions taken to shut out from this channel the greatest amount of evil, and pour through it the greatest amount of good, will be its contribution to the true culture of the individual, and to the true civilisation of the state.

Supposing, then, the proud day arrived when the Secularists shall have attained the summit of their humble wishes, the day that every man in England—and even in Ireland—shall be able to read, what reading have they prepared for the people? Omitting scientific works, which will always be for the very few, there will be the pious class, which will continue to be very severe on the "ignorance, superstition, mental prostration and atheism of the Roman Catholics." There will be the infidel class, which will grow every day more dogmatic in its views of the origin and end of man; page 10 degrading him to the level of the beast, but consoling him, by extending to him the beastly privilege of irresponsibility. Then there will be the immoral class; journals reeking with every impurity, and sold so cheap, that nobody will find it out of his power to poison his soul. And there will be newspapers which will not allow foul deeds to stagnate and rot in darkness, but will drag them forth to the light of day, and thrust them on the minds of the young. St. Paul says, "fornication should not be even named amongst us," yet it is only named, but so minutely described, in the daily papers that it is almost impossible for the young to escape contamination; and God only knows how many who are not wicked enough to seek temptation of their own accord, but are too weak to resist it when thus forced upon them, owe their ruin to these prurient descriptions.

I do not draw from these facts all the conclusions that I might. One is sufficient for my present purpose. Allowing—which I do readily—that the Secularists would do more if they could, I content myself with concluding that if secular civilisation could do for the intellect of man even the little all it proposes, that little would not be worth much.

And what can Christianity do for the culture of the human intellect? Can it offer anything superior? Yes, a high order of culture, and for all.

The principle we laid down just now, and which cannot be controverted, was: The higher the order of truth, the higher the culture of the individual and the civilisation of the State. Now the truths belonging to the supernatural order, are so immeasurably above those of the natural, that a single one of the former would outweigh all the latter. Place one on side a Christian, utterly ignorant of worldly learning, unable to spell even his own name, but instructed in the Christian Religion, and place on the other an Atheist from the gilded saloons of London. Furnish the Atheist with every particle of profane knowledge any man ever possessed; condense into his single brain all the acumen of the wisest of men; bid him ransack nature till he has overturned her last secret; let him heap up all his treasures before us till we are dazzled by the sight; and then let the Christian step forward and say:—