No Necessary Connection With Morality.

However eager "Secularists" may be to put forward such views on civilisation, I trust sincerely, that there are none who will not be equally anxious to disclaim the consequences which flow rigorously from them.

Perhaps the first thing which strikes us is, that this civilisation is not for all. It is for those only who have "wealth and prosperity." There is something selfish in it: it conveys the idea of each one's working for himself alone, for his own enjoyment: and as in the well-known theory of "natural selection" all struggle for existence, but only the strong succeed, so in the struggle for civilisation all but the wealthy fail. Thus the most "civilised" class is precisely that against which our Saviour has pro- page 3 nounced that awful woe:—"Woe to the rich: it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter Heaven."—(Matt. xix. 23, 24. Luke vi. 24.)

Then observe there is no word about morality here. A man might be possessed of the keenest intellect—keen as demon's—the most exquisite taste and judgment in the fine arts, and unbounded wealth wherewith to procure every enjoyment, and yet not be the owner of a single virtue! On the other hand, were one, in the language of St. Paul, to "distribute all his goods to feed the poor," he would at once deprive himself of the "means and ends of civilisation"—riches and pleasures which they purchase! Both were wanting to the Apostle of the Gentiles, who worked for his own living with his own hands; to the twelve poor fishermen on whom Christ built His Church, and to the Saviour of mankind Himself, who lived on alms! So that while the highest immorality might co-exist with the highest civilisation, the sublimest virtue might be uncivilised!

One of the misfortunes of this age is the number of theories people hastily adopt without examining into their ultimate consequences. These theories are so dictatorial set forth, and so disguised under pompous, high sounding language, that their false hood, absurdity, and impiety are concealed from all who do not look beneath. We will always strip off the fine words mercilessly, and looked beneath.

Let us pursue our examination. Here is another specimen of the same inflated language concealing the same follies.

"what, in the name of common sense, have the clergy to do with the secular education of the people. Theirs is the cure of souls. The educing and cultivation of the mental faculties is the schoolmaster's province. It is for him to break up the ground, plant the tree, and to watch and promote its vigorous growth. When his work is done, or while in its latter stages it is being performed, the minister of religion may opportunely step in, and graft upon the healthy stock, the scion of spiritual truth, which he desires to see bearing fruit for time and eternity. ^*"

When will the schoolmaster's work be done? When the child has learned reading, writing, and arithmetic, spelling, geography, and sewing? Or is the "minister of religion" to wait till it has learned all about the false gods of the pagan poets, before teaching it anything about the true God of the Christians?

But suppose that just as "the schoolmaster's work is done," the child dies, and goes to the next world ^† with a full knowledge of Jupiter and Venus, and utterly ignorant of Jesus Christ?

Does this writer really fancy he is talking common sense? He reminds one forcibly of those who look through a telescope without being aware the image is inverted. He sees everything upside down, with, apparently, so little suspicion of the truth, that he actually appeals to common sense for confirmation; but common sense returns a rather unfavourable verdict. It says that they who find something antagonistic between religion and mental cultivation must be those who think the two things cannot be combined, and who do not think religion should be taught till the schoolmaster's work is done. It says that the clergy who want to have religion taught along with the multiplication table, spelling, and good writing, must be acquitted of this charge; and that as they cultivate these useful branches of secular knowledge themselves, it is to be presumed they see no harm in them.

And very good commandments too, as far as they go. But just as the commandment "Not to steal" does not tell me how many pence there are in a pound, so the knowledge that there are 240 in it is no reason why I should not take it when I get the chance of doing so without fear of detection.

Here is the intrinsic reason why there is no necessary connection between secular civilisation and morality:—

Morality consists of two things—the knowledge of our duty, and the frill to do it. The only way, therefore, that "secular" civilisation could promote morality would be either by teaching us what our duty is, or by inclining our will to discharge it. Now it is evident that no amount of spelling, multiplication, or even playing the piano will ever do either one or the other.