No. 6.]

ON THE

DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE. ᏢᎪᏒᎢ 2.

(Concluded from Page 68.)

THE history of mankind, no matter what period of that history is consulted, undeniably proves, that mental bondage or thraldom, and personal slavery, are inseparable companions. The extent of the one, appears to bear an equal proportion with that of the other. Freedom and ignorance cannot live together; and why? because they are sworn enemies! Freedom and liberty advance the happiness of mankind,— despotism and slavery destroy it, Freedom is the result of knowledge; and it is this which causes knowledge to be power, in the fullest sense of the word; whilst ignorance by fettering the mind, produces a corresponding weakness in the mental and physical powers, and is the prolific parent of the worst evils that afflict mankind, and the blackest crimes that stain the pages of history.

Compare free with despotic governments-and shall we not perceive that the former differ from the latter in producing general happiness, and that in a manner so obvious and striking, as render it impossible to assign the dissimilarity to fortuitous circumstances. Slavery, whether mental or personal, is so repugnant to the noblest feelings of the heart, that it can never be universally produced; and a fear that vengeance will follow such an infliction of wrong, on that loveliest and most valVOL. 1. G

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uable of all natural rights, will ever deter the despot and the enemies of freedom, from imposing such restraints upon human nature. However dark the people may be, the sun of reason will occasionally throw out a stream of light, sufficient to show that personal freedom is the gift of God, and the birthright of man!

The diffusion of knowledge is, then, a political good. With respect to its operation on science, and the benefits resulting to society therefrom, they are really so numerous, splendid, and apparent, that we cannot mistake the cause of their existence, nor assign but to one simple agent their production and influence. We might refer to the fine arts,-to abstract science, as well as to practical,-to mechanical operations and powers,-manufactures,-and indeed to all that is comprehended within the whole range of philosophy, as adducing irrefragable proofs of the fact, that to the general diffusion of knowledge we owe all the blessings we enjoy, connected with these things,-and the unrivalled superiority of our country over others in the whole of them, is entirely the result of that for which we thus contend.

Where is a stronger proof of the strength of the human mind, when not overpowered by the pressure of ignorance, than the steam engine? and to what cause, but the diffusion of knowledge, can we refer as accounting for the rapid and almost immediate progress that has been made in its present mode of construction? Let all that the steam engine has done, and is still doing; and let any one but take a

view of this immense machine in operation, and then let him inquire whether the diffusion of knowledge be a practical good or an evil. It will not do to tell us "that you must confine your self within proper limits; " for as there is always a portion of mankind who will abuse the little good they have, however small it may be, no fair argument can be brought against this proposition by such mode of discussion. The question turns upon this; Is the quantum of evil which arises from national ignorance greater or less than the evils which arise from the universal diffusion of knowledge? We do maintain without fear of contradiction, that the quantum of evil is in the former case beyond comparison;-since the evil will be universal. History, the surest test for questions and arguments of this kind to be judged by, is on the side of the liberal part of the community, in this highly important, and deeply interesting subject.

To the increase of knowledge we owe the facilities we possess of supplying our wants:-and whilst this supply, in many cases, creates wants, and gives rise to desires, which, otherwise might not have existed; yet, this is a species of objection which belongs to that class opposed by the plain truth, that every good may be abused. That the increase of our commerce and manufactures is productive of immense benefit to the community, who can doubt. Does it not enable us to support, without much difficulty, all the different parts of government; give access to the various nations of the earth; and add to the weight of influence we possess? Certainly. And as by far the greater part of our manufactures have been rendered superior by the applicacation of science to the process necessary to their production; what, but the general diffusion of the principles of those sciences, applicable to arts and manufactures has tended to improve them? To say that this knowledge should be confined to the master, is a direct violation of the principles for which we contend; since it is necessary that the artisan be acquainted with the process as well as the master. The division of labour will ever pre

vent those evils from operating which are contemplated by those who see in the general diffusion of knowledge a source of general mischief. Whilst one class of men are confined to one part of the process, and another to another, the article is manufactured with more facility, and in a superior manner; at the same time that the man is prevented, generally speaking, from becoming wiser than his master. But suppose he were, whose fault is it? The man or the master's?-And is it a crime to possess a strong mind, and a clear head? Some would indeed have us suppose, that unless this strong mind and clear head belong to a patrician body, a very heinous offence is committed by "Nature," in paying so little respect to noble blood and high birth!

The endless variety of topic which such a subject affords, prevents us from doing justice to so important and interesting an inquiry; especially as the limits of the "Selector" are necessarily confined; but if there be any speculative truth more clearly demonstrated than another, it is, that the "diffusion of knowledge" conduces to the happiness of man, in the exact proportion tothe extent of its dissemination.

If this be true with respect to political relations in general, as well as to philosophy, how much more important its influence when it is viewed in connection with morals. It is here that we shall see its beneficial results on the man, most eminently and satisfactorily displayed. It is hardly necessary to say that we mean to consider knowledge as opposed to ignorance in every sense of the word; in fact, ignorance can hardly be considered in any other acceptation than as a negative term, implying the absence of knowledge.

Morals certainly present to the mind the highest subjects for human contemplation; and contain the most momentous truths; on a right apprehension of which, interests of the greatest magnitude are involved. In the principles of the mind, the impressions which tend to form the character, and influence its decisions and operations, we discover topics which de

mand and require the gravest consideration. If then, so much depends upon a correct estimate of the nature of these things, and a right apprehension of the facts and principles attaching to them, what can be considered a greater desideratum, than the assistance of the light of truth? What, we might ask, would become of truth, if ignorance prevailed? and where should we look for a faithful guide, to conduct us through such a labyrinth as these subjects would infallibly constitute, were they enveloped in obscurity? To those who enjoy the privileges of education, and have access to the fountains and sources of knowledge? Let the opposer of universal education grant us only such a concession, and we want no more; we can compel him to accede to all we ask.-For does not such a notion fully prove the truth of the proposition we have laid down? We have too this advantage, that where men are enabled to become their own guides, by depending on their own resources, the trouble of seeking direction is avoided; whilst at the same time, all responsibility is removed from those who would, in the other case, have to sustain the immense burden which the existence of a single error would throw upon them.

Happily the great importance and authority of the scriptures, are in the present day, in a great degree appreciated and acknowledged.—In almost every page they maintain, that it is the highest interest of mankind to acquire knowledge;-for "to be without knowledge is not good". The reason is obvious.-God is the perfection of knowledge; and who will deny that every approach to the perfection of Deity is not an incalculable benefit? Place the question on this ground, and where can it stand on a basis of greater stability?-or where can it be more secure? Nor can we shut our eyes to the glaring fact, that without any exception-he that becomes wiser, becomes better! Let this sentiment, however, be understood in its extended application; and not fettered by the idle objections we hear sometimes of the happiness of ignorance with respect to our misfortunes, or those calamities

and evils to which human nature is liable. This is such a description of detail, as ought not to be brought into a discussion of so broad a character as the present.

Knowledge expands the mind-refines the taste--elevates the soul-and lifts us above the brutalizing influence of mere sensual gratification. The streams of human happiness are by it brought together; and form a mighty river, at once emblematical of the unfailing abundance and mighty energy of intellectual enjoyments and powers.

In the extended fields of cool and quiet contemplation, we can expatiate with increasing delight; whilst every recurrence to these pursuits and pleasures, instead of satiating the mind, only add to its desire of their possession, and enlarges its capacities for their enjoyment. The natural element, (so to speak) of the mind, is the pursuit of truth; and where it is obtained, the delightful gratifications which are its result, spring up spontaneously--and unbought. They are independent in their nature-are always at command-and do not require the combination of numerous causes to produce them. They at once shew us the difference between the material and the spiritual parts of our nature, and the almost infinite superiority of the immortal, to the mortal constituents of man!

Ignorance, however, gives to prejudice a duration which, if not eternal, is perpetual to the individual who is so unhappy as to be its subject. The utmost efforts of reason are, not unfrequently, completely unsuccessful against this enemy of improvement. Such is the constitution of the mind, that it holds fast, in a state of ignorance, with the utmost tenacity, prejudice in every form. Intrenched in human partiality and fondness of its delusions, the illuminations of truth appear to be almost inefficient to dissipate the darkness, and chase away the clouds which envelope the understanding.

Let it be remembered too, that nothing is so dangerous to future excellence as false and erroneous impressions in childhood. To this danger all will be exposed, unless knowledge be dif

fused, and its benefits valued. Ignorance perpetuates the evil which we would fain eradicate;—and it is not to be expected, till the transcendent importance of a proper inculcation of true principles on the heart in early life be felt, that we shall enjoy the radiance of a dignified and enlightened morality.

When this is the case, however, what a lovely and sublime aspect will human nature present. Each power of the mind as it rises into action will tend to the acquirement of truth, and revel in its refined enjoyments. Without having to struggle with early impressions, it will only have to contend against those obstacles which arise from the influence of imperfection,and as these obstacles are overcome, the mind vaults upon the triumphal arch of reason and truth; and stands erect in all the sublime elevation of intellectual greatness.

or to a worthless man of estate, replied, that he should prefer a man without an estate to an estate without a man. The worst of it is, our modern fortune-hunters are those who turn their heads that way; because they are good for nothing else. If a young fellow finds he can make nothing of Coke and Littleton, he provides him. self with a ladder of ropes, and by that means very often enters upon the premises.—Hughes.

Apply these observations to the still more important truths of Christianity, and those principles which involve the eternal destiny of the human race, and the subject will be felt in all its weight and importance; and should the equally important lesson be learned by each reader of these remarks, that the acquirement of knowledge is the duty and interest of mankind, the writer, with others who ardently desire the moral and intellectual improvement of the species, will be gratified by finding every effort to lessen the dominion of ignorance, aided by encouragement and assisted by a proper and strenuous support.

THE DYING GIRL.

A POETIC SKETCH. OH! lead me forth-and let me gaze, Once more, upon the moon's soft rays; View, once again, the starry sky, Drink of the balmy air,-and die! This fading form no spell may save, 'Tis passing to the welcome grave: -Ere yonder blossom's dewy trance Shall melt before the morning glance,— 'Ere yet the early lark shall wake, This heart-oh, what a joy !—must break. I weep,-but 'tis not that I grieve This sweet and sunny world to leave,— I mourn the barter of my youth For treason in the form of truth; I deemed not that this weary breast So soon should wander to its rest; But quick life's golden chain decays, When falsehood's mildew on it preys, -I felt the rust within my soul Gnaw link from link!-now snaps the whole ! Thou wilt be near, when I am laid In the dark churchyard's darkest shade; But place no stone to tell the spot, -For was I not in life forgot! And this high spirit would disdain The sigh that comes-when sighs are vain, The tears-his tears-which would not flow Till she for whom they fall was low! And let no summer blossoms wave, To mock my lone and lowly grave: Roses torn rudely from their bed, Crushed, broken, scentless, bloomless, dead, Fling on my grave-and they shall be In their bruised beauty, types of me! Enough!-yet oh! if near this way, His steps-they will—should ever stray, Tell him-and chide not-that in death The tremblings of my latest breath Faltered-To curse him?-no, oh no! -The words would choke me in their flow! Deep in my soul I love him still, Through slight and suffering-wrong and ill!Tell him the prayer breathed long and last Was peace and pardon for the past; That, pausing on the verge of time, -May heaven forgive me, if 'tis crime !— My latest, fondest thoughts were given To him who was-on earth-my heaven !

ELIZA

THE WANDERER'S RETURN.

(Concluded from Page 79.)

It is any thing but an easy task to describe the emotions which agitated the wanderer's bosom as he paced in the dusk of the evening, to the abode of her whose image was too deeply impressed upon his memory ever to be effaced. His friend had told him thas she was still unmarried, and this was certainly a source of gladness to him: still he had his fears. His long absence might have caused the gradual decay of any love which Ellen might once have had for him, and besides woman's love is sometimes fickle; and Ellis felt conscious that if Ellen had ceased to love him, he himself was accessary to the dereliction, as he had taken no pains to promote and cherish her affection. He walked on therefore, with hurried steps, and a mind busily employed in retracing many a happy scene of former days, and many an interesting event which neither time nor the bustle of the world had been able to erase from his recollection.

While Ellis was proceeding thus anxious and agitated, the object of his fond solicitude was sitting in her little parlour, enjoying the only interval of peace and quietude which she could appropriate to herself throughout the day; for the duties of her school kept her fully occupied till the evening. Her pretensions were not lofty neither were they presumptuous; but she was well qualified for instructing the young of both sexes in those initiatory studies which prepare them for the formidable attainments of riper years, and she assumed no more. She acquitted herself, therefore in her humble vocation to the entire satisfaction of every one, and secured the esteem and respect of all, as much by her persevering industry as by the invariable propriety of her conduct. The unrepining firmness with which she met the desolate and almost pennyless condition into which her father's death had plunged her, and the energy with which she extricated herself from her misfortunes evinced that no common spirit influeneed the actions of Ellen Williams; and the kind attention which she subse

quently paid to a poor unfortunate kinswoman, proved that the purest benevolence was a pre-eminent ingredient in her character. She had opened her door to this destitute relation, at a time when she scarcely knew wherewith to provide bread for the morrow's repast; but she had been well rewarded by her cousin's services, who had now become extremely useful as a housekeeper. Of her absent lover she would often think; and his long and unbroken silence gave rise to a melancholy forboding she should never see him more, still however was hope

"That draws towards itself

The flame with which it kindles," awake in her bosom; for she felt conscious that nothing but death could deprive her of his love. Now it so happened that the very evening was the anniversary of Ellis Meredith's birth-day, when Ellen always noted it as it came and went, year after year. She did not it was true, make any ostentatious display of her feelings, but she cherished them within the innermost sanctuary of her own innocent heart, and communed that day more than on any other with the melancholy reflections of her own despairing bosom. The customary avocations with her little pupils prevented her from constantly dwelling upon the subject nearest her heart; but no sooner had she parted from her scholars than a melancholy oppressed her spirits which she naturally enough connected with the memory of him whom she scarcely ever expected to behold again. She was sitting with her head leaning on her hand-her thoughts fixed on days and scenes long past-when the dark shadow of Ellis Meredith, as he walked up the little garden in front of the house caught her attention. There was something so unusual in a visit from a stranger in her lone cottage, and at so late an hour, that she felt a momentary alarm as she heard the footsteps approaching nearer and nearer. Her cousin had gone out and she was quite alone. Presently there came a gentle and hurried knock at the door, and she heard the servant girl hasten to attend the summons. She listened in

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