The ThirdREFLECTION.

The ThirdREFLECTION.Wherein the general conduct of human life is taxed with too importunate a pursuit of knowledge in general.1.HAVING past the two first stages of our intellectual conduct, that of the end♦and that of the means, and reflected on the irregularities of each, I come now to the third and last, which consists not in the choice of the object, or of the method to it, but in the degree of affection wherewith it is prosecuted. And this part of our conduct is as irregular and faulty, if not more so, than either of the former: and the fault of it is, a too importunate pursuit of knowledge in general.♦duplicate word “and” removed2. This charge is of a larger extent than either of the preceding: those concerning such only, as either misplace the object, or mistake the method of learning. But not only they who err in the placing of learning, or in the way to it, but even they who are right in both come under this censure; they all agree in pursuing it too importunately.3. In order to make out the truth of this charge it will be necessary first to consider, how far it becomes man to employ himself in the prosecution of knowledge; and then it will be easy to determine, whether our general pursuit of it be immoderate or no. Now for the determination of the former, let us observe the present state of man, the posture wherein he now stands.4. And, First, The utmost knowledge man can arrive at in this world, by his utmost endeavours, is very inconsiderable.*God indeed has given us reason enough to distinguish us from the brute creation, and we may improve it so far, as to distinguish ourselves from one another: and so one man may deserve to be called learned and knowing, in comparison of another that is less so. But absolutely speaking, the most that any or all of us either know or can know, is of little consideration. What we know of God is but little; for as the apostle says,We see through a glass darkly: what we know of ourselves perhaps is less, and what we know of the world about us, is not much. “Wehave seen but a few of God’s works,” and we understand yet fewer. There are almost an infinite number of things which we never so much as thought of: and of most things we conceive very darkly and uncertainly; and there is not one thing from the greatest to the least, which we do or can understand throughly. Those that apply their whole study to any one thing, can never come to the end of that; for not only every science, but every particular of each has its unmeasurable depths and recesses. ’Tis confest by a great enquirer into the nature ofantimony(as ’tis related byMr.Boyle) “That ’tis impossible for one man to understand throughly that single mineral only.” And if a man can’t understandallof solittle, how little must he understand of all? Suppose farther, that all the knowledge of all the learned were put together, it would weigh but light. For what one art or science is there, that is brought to any tolerable perfection? And if the common stock be so little, how small a pittance is it that must fall to every particular man’s share? And where is that man, who after all his poring and studying, is able to answer all the questions, I will not say which God put toJob, but which may be asked him by the next idiot he meets?5. ’Tis superfluous, as well as endless, to display the particulars of our ignorance; though indeed, when all accounts are cast up, that willbe found to be our best knowledge. This only in general, our life is so short, our progress in learning so slow, and learning itself so long and tedious, and what we do or can know so very little, that the sceptics had much more reason to conclude from the disability of our faculties, and the slightness of our attainments, than from the uncertainty and instability of truth, that there is no knowledge.*6. But, Secondly, If it were possible for us to attain a considerable measure of knowledge, yet our life is so short and so encumbered, that we could make but little of the enjoyment of it. All the morning of our days is spent in the preliminaries of learning, in mastering words and terms of art, wherein there is nothing but toil and drudgery. And before we can taste any of the fruits of the tree of knowledge, before we can relish what is rational, our sun is got into the meridian, and then it presently begins to decline, and our learning with it. Our light, our strength, and our time make haste to consume; nothing increases now but the shadows, that is, our ignorance and darkness of mind; and while we consider and look about us, the sun sets, and all is concluded in the dark shadow of death. But often the sun is intercepted by a cloud before it sets, and we live backward again, grow weak and childish, silly and forgetful, and unlearn faster than we learned. Or if it chanceto shine bright to the last, then we grow too wise for ourselves, and reject the greatest part of what we had learned before, as idle and insignificant.*7. Thirdly, There is no necessity of being so wonderfully learned and knowing here. ’Tis neither necessary, as enjoined by God, nor as a means to any considerable end. We can be good and we can be happy without it. And lest any advantages in our after-state should be alledged, this makes it more unnecessary than any consideration besides. For though we are never so unlearned now, yet if we know enough to do our duty, we shall in a short time arrive at such a degree of knowledge as is requisite to our supreme perfection, to which our present learning cannot add, and which our present ignorance will not diminish. Perhaps not immediately upon our discharge from the body, though even then there must be a vast enlargement of our understanding; but doubtless, when we are admitted to the vision of God, we shall then commence instantaneously wise and learned, and be fully possest of the tree of knowledge, as well as of the tree of life. For then that glass, through which we now see darkly, shall be laid aside, and the field of truth shall be clearly displayed before us. And though even then there shall be degrees of knowledge, yet the variety of this dispensation shall not proceed by the degree ofour knowledge in this life, but by another measure. For,8. Fourthly, Though there is no necessity of our being so learned and knowing, yet there is of our being good and virtuous. This is necessary, both, as commanded by God, and as a means of our final perfection. And besides, ’tis necessary now, there being no other opportunity for it. If we don’t know here, we may know hereafter, and infallibly shall, if we are but good here. But if we are not good here, we shall neither be good, happy, nor knowing hereafter. Themainopportunity for knowledge isafterlife; theonlyopportunity of being good is now: and if we take care to improve this, we are secure of the other; but if this is neglected, all is lost. This therefore is indispensably necessary; and ’tis the only thing that is so: and ’tis necessary now; necessary not only to our happiness in general, but also to our intellectual happiness in particular. For,9. Lastly, Thus stands the case between God and man. Man was made in a state of innocence and perfection, in perfect favour and communion with God, his true good, and in a capacity so to continue. From this excellent state he wilfully fell, and by his fall so disabled himself, that he could not by his own strength repent, and so provoked God, that though he could have repented, yet he could not have been pardoned, without satisfaction made to the divinejustice. This satisfaction man was not able to make, nor any other creature for him. Whereupon God in great mercy ordained a mediator, his own Son, God and man, between himself and his lapsed creature; who by the sacrifice of himself should effect two things, answerable to the double necessity of man: first, make repentance available, which otherwise would not have been so; and, secondly, merit grace for him, that he might be able to repent. And this is what is meant by the restoration or redemption of man, which thus far is universal and unconditional.10. But still, notwithstanding all that this Mediator hath done for him, man is only so farrestored, as to be put into a pardonable reconcileable state: he is yet only in a capacity or possibility of pardon and reconciliation, which is then, and then only, reduced to act, when he truly believes,i. e.with such a faith as is productive of all inward and outward holiness;withwhich he may,withoutwhich he cannot be saved, notwithstanding Christ hath died to save him. For the design of his death was not to make holinessunnecessary, but to make itavailable: not to procure a privilege of being savedwithoutit, but that we might be savedwithit. If this qualification be wanting, we shall be so far from being any thing advantaged from the redemption purchased by our Mediator, that we shall be accountable for it, to the great aggravationboth of our guilt and misery. It therefore highly concerns man to improve with all diligence this great and only opportunity, of adorning his mind with all Christian perfections; sincewiththese, he may be happy, in all his capacities, andwithoutthem, he shall not only fall into a state of unutterable misery, but be also accountable for the possibility he had of escaping it, for perversely neglecting so great salvation, so glorious an opportunity of being saved.11. These things being premised concerning the present state of man: First, That he can know but very little; Secondly, That the enjoyment of that little in a short and encumbered life, is by no means answerable to the labour of acquiring it; Thirdly, That there is no necessity of such a deal of learning and knowledge, either as to this world or the next, and that ere long he shall have his fill of knowledge in the beatific vision, one glance whereof shall instruct him more than an eternal poring on books, andundistinguishthe greatest doctor from the most ignorant peasant; Fourthly, That there is an absolute necessity of his being holy, this being the condition not only of his happiness in general, but also of the accomplishment of his understanding in particular: and that now is the only opportunity for it: Lastly, That the attainment of happiness upon this condition, was the purchase of his Saviour’s death, who has also merited grace for his assistancein the performance of it; which if he neglect, he shall not only miss of happiness, but also be answerable for so dear an opportunity of gaining it: from these premises, it will, I think, follow with no less than mathematical evidence.12. First, That knowledge is not the thing for which God designed man in this station, nor consequently the end of his bestowing upon him those intellectual powers which he has.Secondly, That the end for which God did design man in this station, and the reason why he bestowed those powers upon him was, that he might so serve him here, as to be rewarded with perfect knowledge hereafter: And, Thirdly, That the principal care and concern of man, both for his own interest, and out of compliance with the design of God, ought to be, to live a Christian life, to accomplish the moral part of his nature, to subdue his passions, to wean himself from the love of the world, to study purity of heart and life, in one word, “To perfect holiness in the fear and love of God.” And in particular, that he ought to pursue knowledge no farther than as ’tis conducive to virtue.*13. This therefore is the measure to be always observed, in our prosecution of knowledge. We are to study only, that we may be good, and consequently to prosecute such knowledgeonly as has an aptness to make us so, that which the apostle calls,The truth which is after godliness. Whatever knowledge we prosecute beside this, or further than ’tis conducive to this end, though it be, absolutely considered, never so excellent and perfective of our understanding, yet with respect to the present posture and station of man, ’tis a culpable curiosity, an unaccountable vanity, and only a more solemn and laborious way of being idle and impertinent.14. And this will be found, if well examined, to be nothing different from the censure of the wise preacher,I gave my heart to know wisdom, says he,and I perceived, that this also is vanity and vexation of spirit. Not that he now first applied himself to the study of wisdom. No, he had been inspired with that before, and by the help of it had discovered the vanity of all other things. But that wisdom which saw thro’ all other things, did not as yet perceive the vanity of itself. He therefore now gave his heart toknowwisdom, that is, to reflect upon it, and to consider whether this might be excepted from his general censure, and struck out of the scroll of vanities. And upon deep reflection, he found that it could not, and that even this also was as much a vanity as any of the rest. Not that this proposition is to be understood absolutely, but with respect to the present posture of man. Neither can it be understood of allknowledge even in this life; some knowledge being necessary to qualify him for happiness in the next. It must therefore be understood of all that knowledge, which contributes not to that great end. So that with these two necessary limitations, the sense of it is plainly this, that to man in this present juncture, all knowledge which does not contribute to the interest of his after-state, is vanity and vexation of spirit.*15. For to what purpose should we study so much, since after all we can know so little? Since our life is as much too short for enjoying that little knowledge wehave, as for compassing what we wouldhave; and withal, since there lies no manner of obligation or necessity upon us to do thus? But (which is what I would most of all inculcate) to what purpose imaginable should we be so vehement in the pursuit of learning, of any learning but what is of use to the conduct of life, considering these two things, First, That ’tis but to stay a little while, and we shall have all that knowledge gratis, which we so unsuccessfully drudge for here, to the neglect of more important exercises; and, Secondly, That there is such an absolute necessity of being good, and that this short uncertain life is the only time for it, which if neglected, this great work must be undone for ever. Upon the former consideration, this studious bookish humour, is like laying out a great sum of money, to purchase anestate which, after one weak, dropping life will of course fall into hand. Upon the latter, ’tis as if a man that was riding post upon business of life and death, should, as he passes through a wood, stand still to listen to the singing of a nightingale, and so forget the only business of his journey.16. ’Tis most certain, the cases here supposed are as great instances of folly as can well be conceived. And yet (however it comes to pass that we are not sensible of it,) ’tis equally certain that we do the very same, that we are too much concerned in the application; and that to most of us it may be truly said,Thou art the man!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 wasneedless, but not invain. 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 avainas well asneedlesslabour.*18. Again, What difference is there between him, who when he is upon business oflife 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 businessnowis not to be learned, but to be good.*19. For is my life so long, am I soover-stockedwith 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 incuttingandcarving, 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 isthere 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 ofArchimedes; who was busy in making mathematical figures on the sands ofSyracuse, while the city was stormed byMarcellus, 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 hadArchimedesbeen a Christian, I should have said, that the main of his impertinence did not liehere, 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 beenall 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 asaccountablyemployed, as he that spends the same time in solving a mathematical question, asMr.Des Cartesin 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 ofMr.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; sincewe can’t have the former nowin any measure, and shall have it hereafterwithout measure: but the latter we may havenow(for we maylove muchtho’ we cannotknow much) and can’t have ithereafter. Now the question is, whether we ought to be more♦sollicitous for that intellectual perfection, which we can’t havehereand shall havehereafter; or that moral perfection, which we may havehere, and cannot havehereafter? And I think we need not consult an oracle, or conjure up a spirit, to be resolved.♦“solicitious” replaced with “sollicitous” for consistency*26. This consideration alone is sufficient to justify the measure we have prescribed for our intellectual conduct, that we ought to prosecute knowledge no farther than as it conduces to virtue: and consequently, that whenever we study to any other purpose, or in any other degree than this, we are unaccountably, impertinently, I may add, sinfully imployed. For this is the whole of man,To fear God and keep his commandments, the whole of man in this station particularly, and consequently this ought to be the scope of all his studies and endeavours.27. And accordingly it is observable, that the scripture, whenever it makes mention of wisdom, with any mark of commendation, always means by it either religion itself, or such knowledge as has a direct influence upon it. Remarkable to this purpose is the28thchapter ofJob; where having run thro’ several instances of natural knowledge, he adds,But where shall wisdom be found, andwhere is the place of understanding? As much as to say, that in none of the other things mentioned, did consist the wisdom of man. Then it follows,Man knoweth not the price thereof, neither is it found in the land of the living. The depth saith, It is not in me, and the sea saith, It is not in me.Not in the depths of learning, nor in the recesses of speculation,Seeing it is hid from the eyes of all living. Destruction and death say we have heard of the fame thereof with our ears: as much as to say, that after this life, and then only, unless perhaps about the hour of death, men begin to have a true sense and lively relish of this wisdom. But in the mean time,God understandeth the way thereof, and he knoweth the place thereof. And unto man he said,Behold, the fear of the Lord that is wisdom, and to depart from evil, that is understanding! To man he said: had it been to another creature, suppose an angel, in a state of security and confirmation, he would perhaps have recommended for wisdom the study of nature, and the arcana of philosophy. But having to do with man, a probationary, unfixed creature, that shall be either happy or miserable eternally, according as he demeans himself, in this short time of trial, the only wisdom he advises to such a creature in such a station, is to study religion and a good life.28. From authority let us descend to example: and two I would particularly recommend, of men both eminently wise and learned; I meanMosesandSt.Paul. The latter professedly declares,I determine to know nothing but Jesus Christ and him crucified. And the former complaining of the gross ignorance of his people, breaks out into this passionate wish.O that they were wise! that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end!29.Moseshad been bred a scholar as well as a courtier, and was well instructed in all the secrets of philosophy. And besides the advantages ofPharaoh’s court, he had God himself for his tutor; he had conversed personally with his maker, and therefore must needs be supposed to know what was true wisdom. But he does not make it consist in courtly education, or the mysteries of philosophy; but in considering our latter end. He wishes that his people were wise; and to this end does not wish, that they were as well-bred, or as learned as himself, but only that they understood this, this one thing, that they would consider their latter end. This he makes the summary and abstract of all wisdom. Not unlikePlato, who defines philosophy,the theory of death.30. And here, if a short digression may be dispensed with, I would observe, how muchPlatois in the right, and what an excellent part of wisdom it is, to consider death seriously. To make this distinctly appear, I shall shew first, that the consideration of death is the most proper exercise for a wise man, and secondly, that it is the most compendious way of making him wise that is not so.31. First, It is the most proper exercise for a wise man. Wisdom consists in a due estimation of things; which then are duly estimated, when they are rated, both as they are in themselves, and as they are in relation to us. If they are great and extraordinary in themselves, they deserve to be considered for their own sakes; if they nearly relate to us, they deserve to be considered for ours. And on both these accounts, death and its consequences, are highly deserving a wise man’s thoughts.32. For, first, they are in themselves great and extraordinary transactions, and as such, deserve the attentive consideration, even of a stander by, of any other indifferent being, suppose an angel; even though he were no otherwise concerned in it, than as ’tis a great event, a noble and wonderful scene of providence. On this single account, death is as fit a subject for the contemplation of a wise man, as any in nature.33. Or if there be within the sphere of nature, things of a greater appearance, yet there is none wherein man is so nearly concerned. Since on this depends his eternal happiness or ruin. Nothing deserves so much to be considered by him, whether therefore we regard the greatness of the thing itself, or its greatness with respect to us, the consideration of death is as proper an exercise as a wise man can be employed in.34. And as ’tis so fit an employment for himthat is wise already, so, secondly, it is the most compendious way of making him wise that is not so. For all wisdom is in order to happiness; and to be truly wise, is to be wise unto salvation. Whatever knowledge contributes not to this, is quite besides the mark. It is, as the apostle calls it,Science falsely so called. The knowledge itself is vain, and the study of it impertinent.35. Now the only way to happiness is a good life; and consequently all wisdom being in order to happiness, that is the true, and the only true wisdom, that serves to the promoting it. That therefore is the most compendious way of making a man wise, which soonest makes him good. And nothing does this so soon and so well, as the serious and habitual consideration of death. And therefore says the wise man,remember death and corruption, and keep the commandments: The shortest compendium of holy living that ever was given. As if he had said, many are the admonitions of wise and good men, for the moral conduct of life. But would you have a short and infalible direction? Remember death and corruption. Do but remember this, and forget all other rules if youwill, and your duty if youcan.36. And what is here remarked by one wise man, is consented to by all. Hence that common practice among the antients, of placing sepulchres in their gardens, and of using thatcelebrated motto,Memento mori. Hence that modern as well as antient custom, of putting emblems of mortality in churches and other public places: by all which is implied, that the consideration of death is the greatest security of a good life. Indeed what other considerations do by parts, this does at a blow. It at once defeats the world, the flesh, and the devil. For how can the world captivate him, who seriously considers that he is a stranger in it, and shall shortly leave it? How can the flesh insnare him, who has his sepulchre in his eye, and reflects on the cold lodging he shall have there? And how can the devil prevail on him, who remembers that he shall die, and then enter on an♦unchangeable state of happiness or misery, according as he has either resisted, or yielded to his temptations? Of so vast consequence is the constant thinking upon death, above all other, even practical meditation: and so great reason hadMosesfor placing the wisdom of man in the consideration of his latter end.♦“unchangable” replaced with “unchangeable” for consistency*37. But to return. I now persuade myself, that from the character of man, and his present circumstances, as well as from divine authority, it evidently appears, that however natural our desire of knowledge is, this appetite is to be governed, as well as those that are sensual; that we ought to indulge it only so far, as may tend to the conducting our lives, and the fitting usfor that happiness which God hath promised, not to the learned, but to the good: and that if it be gratified to any other purpose, or in any other measure than this, our curiosity is impertinent, our study immoderate, and the tree of knowledge still a forbidden plant.38. And now having stated the measure of our affection to, and enquiry after learning and knowledge, it remains to be considered, how much ’tis observed in the general conduct of our studies. ’Tis plain, it is not observed at all. For these two things are notorious: First, That very little of what is generally studied, has any tendency to livingwellhere or happily hereafter. And, Secondly, That these very studies which have no religious influence upon life, do yet devour the greatest part of it. The best and most of our time is devoted to dry learning; this we make the course of our study, the rest is only by the by. And ’tis well if what is practical or devotional, can find us at leisure upon a broken piece of a Sunday or holiday. The main current of our life runs in studies of another nature, that don’t so much as glance one kind♦aspect upon good living. Nay, ’tis well if some of them don’t hinder it. I am sure so great and so good a man asSt.Austinthought so, who speaking of the institution and discipline of his youth, has these remarkable words, “I learnt in those things many useful words; but the same might have been learntin matters that are not vain: and that indeed is the safe way, wherein children ought to be trained up. But wo unto thee thou torrent ofcustom! Who is able to resist thee! How long will it be before thou art dried up? How long wilt thou roll along the sons ofEve, into a great and formidable sea, which they can hardly pass over? Have I not, in obedience to thee, read ofJupiterthundring and fornicating at the same time? And yet, O thou hellish torrent, the sons of men are still tossed in thee, and are invited by rewards to learn these things! The pretence indeed is, that this is the way to learn words, and to get eloquence and the art of persuasion. As if we might not have known these words,Golden Shower,lap, the temple ofheaven, without reading ofJupiter’s being made a precedent for whoring? This immorality does not at all help the learning of the words: but the words greatly encourage the committing the immorality. Not that I find fault with the words themselves; they are pure and choice vessels: but with that wine of error, which in them is handed and commended to us by our sottish teachers. And yet unless we drank of it, we were beaten, nor had we any sober judge to appeal to. And yet, I, O my God, in whose presence I now securely make this recollection, willingly learnt these things, and like a wretch delighted in them, and for this I was called agood, hopeful boy.” By this you may see what the judgment of this holy and venerableperson was in his private retirements, and at the most serious intervals of his life, concerning the general course of those studies, which draw out the first runnings of our age, and which are of so great credit and authority in the world, as to go under the name of ingenious and liberal education. You see he not only disapproves them, but reckons them among those sins and irregularities of his youth, whereof he thought himself obliged to make a particular confession in this his great penetential.♦removed the word “of” per Errata39. And here let me not be thought immodest, if upon great consideration and full conviction, I presume to tax the management of our publick schools. Many miscarriages I might note, but I shall concern myself only with those, which the principles here laid down lead me to consider. And these we may comprehend under two general heads of complaint.I. That they take up so much of our time.II. That they teach us such frivolous and unprofitable things as they do.In relation to the first, I can’t with any patience reflect, that out of so short a time as that of human life, consisting, it may be of 50 or 60 years (for where one lives longer, hundreds come short) 19 or 20 shall be spent between the dictionaryand the lexicon, in hammering out a littleLatinandGreek, and in learning a company of poetical fictions and fantastick stories. Were these things worth knowing, yet ’tis barbarous and inhuman, to make people spend so much of their little stock of time upon them. This is tomake a cureof human ignorance, and to deal with the infirmities of the mind, as some ill surgeons do with the wounds of the body. If one were to judge of the life of man by the proportion of it spent at school, one would think theAntidiluvianmark were not yet out, and that we had a prospect of at least 900 or 1000 years before us. The truth is, ’tis an intolerable abuse it should be so; and were the age as wise as it pretends to be, it would never suffer it: especially considering what late examples we have had of more compendious methods beyond the seas. It does not become me to project a scheme of school-discipline; I leave this to abler heads. Only in the mean time I may venture to say, that the common way is a very great tax upon human life; so large a portion of which can very ill be spared, to be lavished away in the first elements of learning.*But the greatest complaint against these seminaries is, the frivolousness of the things they teach. Not only the spending so much time on the things they teach is blame-worthy, but their teaching such things at all. Setting opinion and fancy aside, what real improvement is it tothe mind of a rational creature, to be overlaid with words and phrases, and to be full charged with poetical stories and dreams? How many excellent and useful things might be learnt, while boys arethumbingandmurdering HesiodandHomer, which♦then they do not understand, and which when they do, they will throw by and despise? And that justly too: for of what signification is such stuff as this, to the accomplishment of a reasonable soul? What improvement can it be to my understanding, to know the amours ofPyramusandThisbe, or ofHeroandLeander? Do men retain any value for these things, when they grow up, or endeavour to preserve the memory of them? And why must poor boys♠be condemned to the drudgery of learning what when they are men they must and will unlearn? Why must they be forced with so great expence of time and labour, to learn♣such things as are of no standing use? So♥far from that, they are dangerous, as well as unprofitable. For I appeal to the common sense and experience of mankind, whether it be not dangerous in the highest degree, to entertain the gay catching fancies of boys, with the amorous scenes of the poets? Whether it be safe, to season their green imaginations with such images as are there painted to the life? Is not this rather the direct way to corrupt them, to sow in their tender minds the seeds of impurity, to increase their inbred propensities to evil, and lay a standing foundationfor debauchery? Let any man but consider human nature as it comes down to us fromAdam, and tell me whether he thinks a boy is fit to be trusted withOvid? I do not understand upon what principle, either of prudence or piety, such books as these should be read by any; but least of all by boys, whose soft minds are so susceptible of any ill impression. Far better were it they should continue ignorant, than that their understandings should be accomplished at the hazard of their morals; upon which such studies as these can derive no very wholsome influence. And yet to these our youth is dedicated, and in these some of us employ our riper years, and when we die, this very thing makes one part of our funeral eulogy, that we were so diligent and indefatigable in our studies, and so inquisitive in the search of knowledge, perhaps that we procured an early interment by it; when, according to the principles before laid down, we were as impertinently, though not so innocently employed all the while, as if we had been so long picking straws inBedlam.♦“when” replaced with “then” per Errata♠inserted word “be” per Errata♣“luch” replaced with “such”♥inserted “far from” per Errata40. The sum of all this is: the measure of prosecuting learning and knowledge, is their usefulness to a good life. Consequently, all prosecution of them beyond or beside this end, is impertinent and immoderate. But such is the general prosecution of learning and knowledge, as is plain by appealing to the general conduct of study. It evidently follows, that the intellectualconduct of human life is justly chargeable with an immoderate and impertinent pursuit of knowledge.

Wherein the general conduct of human life is taxed with too importunate a pursuit of knowledge in general.

1.HAVING past the two first stages of our intellectual conduct, that of the end♦and that of the means, and reflected on the irregularities of each, I come now to the third and last, which consists not in the choice of the object, or of the method to it, but in the degree of affection wherewith it is prosecuted. And this part of our conduct is as irregular and faulty, if not more so, than either of the former: and the fault of it is, a too importunate pursuit of knowledge in general.

♦duplicate word “and” removed

♦duplicate word “and” removed

♦duplicate word “and” removed

2. This charge is of a larger extent than either of the preceding: those concerning such only, as either misplace the object, or mistake the method of learning. But not only they who err in the placing of learning, or in the way to it, but even they who are right in both come under this censure; they all agree in pursuing it too importunately.

3. In order to make out the truth of this charge it will be necessary first to consider, how far it becomes man to employ himself in the prosecution of knowledge; and then it will be easy to determine, whether our general pursuit of it be immoderate or no. Now for the determination of the former, let us observe the present state of man, the posture wherein he now stands.

4. And, First, The utmost knowledge man can arrive at in this world, by his utmost endeavours, is very inconsiderable.

*God indeed has given us reason enough to distinguish us from the brute creation, and we may improve it so far, as to distinguish ourselves from one another: and so one man may deserve to be called learned and knowing, in comparison of another that is less so. But absolutely speaking, the most that any or all of us either know or can know, is of little consideration. What we know of God is but little; for as the apostle says,We see through a glass darkly: what we know of ourselves perhaps is less, and what we know of the world about us, is not much. “Wehave seen but a few of God’s works,” and we understand yet fewer. There are almost an infinite number of things which we never so much as thought of: and of most things we conceive very darkly and uncertainly; and there is not one thing from the greatest to the least, which we do or can understand throughly. Those that apply their whole study to any one thing, can never come to the end of that; for not only every science, but every particular of each has its unmeasurable depths and recesses. ’Tis confest by a great enquirer into the nature ofantimony(as ’tis related byMr.Boyle) “That ’tis impossible for one man to understand throughly that single mineral only.” And if a man can’t understandallof solittle, how little must he understand of all? Suppose farther, that all the knowledge of all the learned were put together, it would weigh but light. For what one art or science is there, that is brought to any tolerable perfection? And if the common stock be so little, how small a pittance is it that must fall to every particular man’s share? And where is that man, who after all his poring and studying, is able to answer all the questions, I will not say which God put toJob, but which may be asked him by the next idiot he meets?

5. ’Tis superfluous, as well as endless, to display the particulars of our ignorance; though indeed, when all accounts are cast up, that willbe found to be our best knowledge. This only in general, our life is so short, our progress in learning so slow, and learning itself so long and tedious, and what we do or can know so very little, that the sceptics had much more reason to conclude from the disability of our faculties, and the slightness of our attainments, than from the uncertainty and instability of truth, that there is no knowledge.

*6. But, Secondly, If it were possible for us to attain a considerable measure of knowledge, yet our life is so short and so encumbered, that we could make but little of the enjoyment of it. All the morning of our days is spent in the preliminaries of learning, in mastering words and terms of art, wherein there is nothing but toil and drudgery. And before we can taste any of the fruits of the tree of knowledge, before we can relish what is rational, our sun is got into the meridian, and then it presently begins to decline, and our learning with it. Our light, our strength, and our time make haste to consume; nothing increases now but the shadows, that is, our ignorance and darkness of mind; and while we consider and look about us, the sun sets, and all is concluded in the dark shadow of death. But often the sun is intercepted by a cloud before it sets, and we live backward again, grow weak and childish, silly and forgetful, and unlearn faster than we learned. Or if it chanceto shine bright to the last, then we grow too wise for ourselves, and reject the greatest part of what we had learned before, as idle and insignificant.

*7. Thirdly, There is no necessity of being so wonderfully learned and knowing here. ’Tis neither necessary, as enjoined by God, nor as a means to any considerable end. We can be good and we can be happy without it. And lest any advantages in our after-state should be alledged, this makes it more unnecessary than any consideration besides. For though we are never so unlearned now, yet if we know enough to do our duty, we shall in a short time arrive at such a degree of knowledge as is requisite to our supreme perfection, to which our present learning cannot add, and which our present ignorance will not diminish. Perhaps not immediately upon our discharge from the body, though even then there must be a vast enlargement of our understanding; but doubtless, when we are admitted to the vision of God, we shall then commence instantaneously wise and learned, and be fully possest of the tree of knowledge, as well as of the tree of life. For then that glass, through which we now see darkly, shall be laid aside, and the field of truth shall be clearly displayed before us. And though even then there shall be degrees of knowledge, yet the variety of this dispensation shall not proceed by the degree ofour knowledge in this life, but by another measure. For,

8. Fourthly, Though there is no necessity of our being so learned and knowing, yet there is of our being good and virtuous. This is necessary, both, as commanded by God, and as a means of our final perfection. And besides, ’tis necessary now, there being no other opportunity for it. If we don’t know here, we may know hereafter, and infallibly shall, if we are but good here. But if we are not good here, we shall neither be good, happy, nor knowing hereafter. Themainopportunity for knowledge isafterlife; theonlyopportunity of being good is now: and if we take care to improve this, we are secure of the other; but if this is neglected, all is lost. This therefore is indispensably necessary; and ’tis the only thing that is so: and ’tis necessary now; necessary not only to our happiness in general, but also to our intellectual happiness in particular. For,

9. Lastly, Thus stands the case between God and man. Man was made in a state of innocence and perfection, in perfect favour and communion with God, his true good, and in a capacity so to continue. From this excellent state he wilfully fell, and by his fall so disabled himself, that he could not by his own strength repent, and so provoked God, that though he could have repented, yet he could not have been pardoned, without satisfaction made to the divinejustice. This satisfaction man was not able to make, nor any other creature for him. Whereupon God in great mercy ordained a mediator, his own Son, God and man, between himself and his lapsed creature; who by the sacrifice of himself should effect two things, answerable to the double necessity of man: first, make repentance available, which otherwise would not have been so; and, secondly, merit grace for him, that he might be able to repent. And this is what is meant by the restoration or redemption of man, which thus far is universal and unconditional.

10. But still, notwithstanding all that this Mediator hath done for him, man is only so farrestored, as to be put into a pardonable reconcileable state: he is yet only in a capacity or possibility of pardon and reconciliation, which is then, and then only, reduced to act, when he truly believes,i. e.with such a faith as is productive of all inward and outward holiness;withwhich he may,withoutwhich he cannot be saved, notwithstanding Christ hath died to save him. For the design of his death was not to make holinessunnecessary, but to make itavailable: not to procure a privilege of being savedwithoutit, but that we might be savedwithit. If this qualification be wanting, we shall be so far from being any thing advantaged from the redemption purchased by our Mediator, that we shall be accountable for it, to the great aggravationboth of our guilt and misery. It therefore highly concerns man to improve with all diligence this great and only opportunity, of adorning his mind with all Christian perfections; sincewiththese, he may be happy, in all his capacities, andwithoutthem, he shall not only fall into a state of unutterable misery, but be also accountable for the possibility he had of escaping it, for perversely neglecting so great salvation, so glorious an opportunity of being saved.

11. These things being premised concerning the present state of man: First, That he can know but very little; Secondly, That the enjoyment of that little in a short and encumbered life, is by no means answerable to the labour of acquiring it; Thirdly, That there is no necessity of such a deal of learning and knowledge, either as to this world or the next, and that ere long he shall have his fill of knowledge in the beatific vision, one glance whereof shall instruct him more than an eternal poring on books, andundistinguishthe greatest doctor from the most ignorant peasant; Fourthly, That there is an absolute necessity of his being holy, this being the condition not only of his happiness in general, but also of the accomplishment of his understanding in particular: and that now is the only opportunity for it: Lastly, That the attainment of happiness upon this condition, was the purchase of his Saviour’s death, who has also merited grace for his assistancein the performance of it; which if he neglect, he shall not only miss of happiness, but also be answerable for so dear an opportunity of gaining it: from these premises, it will, I think, follow with no less than mathematical evidence.

12. First, That knowledge is not the thing for which God designed man in this station, nor consequently the end of his bestowing upon him those intellectual powers which he has.

Secondly, That the end for which God did design man in this station, and the reason why he bestowed those powers upon him was, that he might so serve him here, as to be rewarded with perfect knowledge hereafter: And, Thirdly, That the principal care and concern of man, both for his own interest, and out of compliance with the design of God, ought to be, to live a Christian life, to accomplish the moral part of his nature, to subdue his passions, to wean himself from the love of the world, to study purity of heart and life, in one word, “To perfect holiness in the fear and love of God.” And in particular, that he ought to pursue knowledge no farther than as ’tis conducive to virtue.

*13. This therefore is the measure to be always observed, in our prosecution of knowledge. We are to study only, that we may be good, and consequently to prosecute such knowledgeonly as has an aptness to make us so, that which the apostle calls,The truth which is after godliness. Whatever knowledge we prosecute beside this, or further than ’tis conducive to this end, though it be, absolutely considered, never so excellent and perfective of our understanding, yet with respect to the present posture and station of man, ’tis a culpable curiosity, an unaccountable vanity, and only a more solemn and laborious way of being idle and impertinent.

14. And this will be found, if well examined, to be nothing different from the censure of the wise preacher,I gave my heart to know wisdom, says he,and I perceived, that this also is vanity and vexation of spirit. Not that he now first applied himself to the study of wisdom. No, he had been inspired with that before, and by the help of it had discovered the vanity of all other things. But that wisdom which saw thro’ all other things, did not as yet perceive the vanity of itself. He therefore now gave his heart toknowwisdom, that is, to reflect upon it, and to consider whether this might be excepted from his general censure, and struck out of the scroll of vanities. And upon deep reflection, he found that it could not, and that even this also was as much a vanity as any of the rest. Not that this proposition is to be understood absolutely, but with respect to the present posture of man. Neither can it be understood of allknowledge even in this life; some knowledge being necessary to qualify him for happiness in the next. It must therefore be understood of all that knowledge, which contributes not to that great end. So that with these two necessary limitations, the sense of it is plainly this, that to man in this present juncture, all knowledge which does not contribute to the interest of his after-state, is vanity and vexation of spirit.

*15. For to what purpose should we study so much, since after all we can know so little? Since our life is as much too short for enjoying that little knowledge wehave, as for compassing what we wouldhave; and withal, since there lies no manner of obligation or necessity upon us to do thus? But (which is what I would most of all inculcate) to what purpose imaginable should we be so vehement in the pursuit of learning, of any learning but what is of use to the conduct of life, considering these two things, First, That ’tis but to stay a little while, and we shall have all that knowledge gratis, which we so unsuccessfully drudge for here, to the neglect of more important exercises; and, Secondly, That there is such an absolute necessity of being good, and that this short uncertain life is the only time for it, which if neglected, this great work must be undone for ever. Upon the former consideration, this studious bookish humour, is like laying out a great sum of money, to purchase anestate which, after one weak, dropping life will of course fall into hand. Upon the latter, ’tis as if a man that was riding post upon business of life and death, should, as he passes through a wood, stand still to listen to the singing of a nightingale, and so forget the only business of his journey.

16. ’Tis most certain, the cases here supposed are as great instances of folly as can well be conceived. And yet (however it comes to pass that we are not sensible of it,) ’tis equally certain that we do the very same, that we are too much concerned in the application; and that to most of us it may be truly said,Thou art the man!

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 wasneedless, but not invain. 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 avainas well asneedlesslabour.

*18. Again, What difference is there between him, who when he is upon business oflife 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 businessnowis not to be learned, but to be good.

*19. For is my life so long, am I soover-stockedwith 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 incuttingandcarving, 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 isthere 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 ofArchimedes; who was busy in making mathematical figures on the sands ofSyracuse, while the city was stormed byMarcellus, 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 hadArchimedesbeen a Christian, I should have said, that the main of his impertinence did not liehere, 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 beenall 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 asaccountablyemployed, as he that spends the same time in solving a mathematical question, asMr.Des Cartesin 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 ofMr.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; sincewe can’t have the former nowin any measure, and shall have it hereafterwithout measure: but the latter we may havenow(for we maylove muchtho’ we cannotknow much) and can’t have ithereafter. Now the question is, whether we ought to be more♦sollicitous for that intellectual perfection, which we can’t havehereand shall havehereafter; or that moral perfection, which we may havehere, and cannot havehereafter? And I think we need not consult an oracle, or conjure up a spirit, to be resolved.

♦“solicitious” replaced with “sollicitous” for consistency

♦“solicitious” replaced with “sollicitous” for consistency

♦“solicitious” replaced with “sollicitous” for consistency

*26. This consideration alone is sufficient to justify the measure we have prescribed for our intellectual conduct, that we ought to prosecute knowledge no farther than as it conduces to virtue: and consequently, that whenever we study to any other purpose, or in any other degree than this, we are unaccountably, impertinently, I may add, sinfully imployed. For this is the whole of man,To fear God and keep his commandments, the whole of man in this station particularly, and consequently this ought to be the scope of all his studies and endeavours.

27. And accordingly it is observable, that the scripture, whenever it makes mention of wisdom, with any mark of commendation, always means by it either religion itself, or such knowledge as has a direct influence upon it. Remarkable to this purpose is the28thchapter ofJob; where having run thro’ several instances of natural knowledge, he adds,But where shall wisdom be found, andwhere is the place of understanding? As much as to say, that in none of the other things mentioned, did consist the wisdom of man. Then it follows,Man knoweth not the price thereof, neither is it found in the land of the living. The depth saith, It is not in me, and the sea saith, It is not in me.Not in the depths of learning, nor in the recesses of speculation,Seeing it is hid from the eyes of all living. Destruction and death say we have heard of the fame thereof with our ears: as much as to say, that after this life, and then only, unless perhaps about the hour of death, men begin to have a true sense and lively relish of this wisdom. But in the mean time,God understandeth the way thereof, and he knoweth the place thereof. And unto man he said,Behold, the fear of the Lord that is wisdom, and to depart from evil, that is understanding! To man he said: had it been to another creature, suppose an angel, in a state of security and confirmation, he would perhaps have recommended for wisdom the study of nature, and the arcana of philosophy. But having to do with man, a probationary, unfixed creature, that shall be either happy or miserable eternally, according as he demeans himself, in this short time of trial, the only wisdom he advises to such a creature in such a station, is to study religion and a good life.

28. From authority let us descend to example: and two I would particularly recommend, of men both eminently wise and learned; I meanMosesandSt.Paul. The latter professedly declares,I determine to know nothing but Jesus Christ and him crucified. And the former complaining of the gross ignorance of his people, breaks out into this passionate wish.O that they were wise! that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end!

29.Moseshad been bred a scholar as well as a courtier, and was well instructed in all the secrets of philosophy. And besides the advantages ofPharaoh’s court, he had God himself for his tutor; he had conversed personally with his maker, and therefore must needs be supposed to know what was true wisdom. But he does not make it consist in courtly education, or the mysteries of philosophy; but in considering our latter end. He wishes that his people were wise; and to this end does not wish, that they were as well-bred, or as learned as himself, but only that they understood this, this one thing, that they would consider their latter end. This he makes the summary and abstract of all wisdom. Not unlikePlato, who defines philosophy,the theory of death.

30. And here, if a short digression may be dispensed with, I would observe, how muchPlatois in the right, and what an excellent part of wisdom it is, to consider death seriously. To make this distinctly appear, I shall shew first, that the consideration of death is the most proper exercise for a wise man, and secondly, that it is the most compendious way of making him wise that is not so.

31. First, It is the most proper exercise for a wise man. Wisdom consists in a due estimation of things; which then are duly estimated, when they are rated, both as they are in themselves, and as they are in relation to us. If they are great and extraordinary in themselves, they deserve to be considered for their own sakes; if they nearly relate to us, they deserve to be considered for ours. And on both these accounts, death and its consequences, are highly deserving a wise man’s thoughts.

32. For, first, they are in themselves great and extraordinary transactions, and as such, deserve the attentive consideration, even of a stander by, of any other indifferent being, suppose an angel; even though he were no otherwise concerned in it, than as ’tis a great event, a noble and wonderful scene of providence. On this single account, death is as fit a subject for the contemplation of a wise man, as any in nature.

33. Or if there be within the sphere of nature, things of a greater appearance, yet there is none wherein man is so nearly concerned. Since on this depends his eternal happiness or ruin. Nothing deserves so much to be considered by him, whether therefore we regard the greatness of the thing itself, or its greatness with respect to us, the consideration of death is as proper an exercise as a wise man can be employed in.

34. And as ’tis so fit an employment for himthat is wise already, so, secondly, it is the most compendious way of making him wise that is not so. For all wisdom is in order to happiness; and to be truly wise, is to be wise unto salvation. Whatever knowledge contributes not to this, is quite besides the mark. It is, as the apostle calls it,Science falsely so called. The knowledge itself is vain, and the study of it impertinent.

35. Now the only way to happiness is a good life; and consequently all wisdom being in order to happiness, that is the true, and the only true wisdom, that serves to the promoting it. That therefore is the most compendious way of making a man wise, which soonest makes him good. And nothing does this so soon and so well, as the serious and habitual consideration of death. And therefore says the wise man,remember death and corruption, and keep the commandments: The shortest compendium of holy living that ever was given. As if he had said, many are the admonitions of wise and good men, for the moral conduct of life. But would you have a short and infalible direction? Remember death and corruption. Do but remember this, and forget all other rules if youwill, and your duty if youcan.

36. And what is here remarked by one wise man, is consented to by all. Hence that common practice among the antients, of placing sepulchres in their gardens, and of using thatcelebrated motto,Memento mori. Hence that modern as well as antient custom, of putting emblems of mortality in churches and other public places: by all which is implied, that the consideration of death is the greatest security of a good life. Indeed what other considerations do by parts, this does at a blow. It at once defeats the world, the flesh, and the devil. For how can the world captivate him, who seriously considers that he is a stranger in it, and shall shortly leave it? How can the flesh insnare him, who has his sepulchre in his eye, and reflects on the cold lodging he shall have there? And how can the devil prevail on him, who remembers that he shall die, and then enter on an♦unchangeable state of happiness or misery, according as he has either resisted, or yielded to his temptations? Of so vast consequence is the constant thinking upon death, above all other, even practical meditation: and so great reason hadMosesfor placing the wisdom of man in the consideration of his latter end.

♦“unchangable” replaced with “unchangeable” for consistency

♦“unchangable” replaced with “unchangeable” for consistency

♦“unchangable” replaced with “unchangeable” for consistency

*37. But to return. I now persuade myself, that from the character of man, and his present circumstances, as well as from divine authority, it evidently appears, that however natural our desire of knowledge is, this appetite is to be governed, as well as those that are sensual; that we ought to indulge it only so far, as may tend to the conducting our lives, and the fitting usfor that happiness which God hath promised, not to the learned, but to the good: and that if it be gratified to any other purpose, or in any other measure than this, our curiosity is impertinent, our study immoderate, and the tree of knowledge still a forbidden plant.

38. And now having stated the measure of our affection to, and enquiry after learning and knowledge, it remains to be considered, how much ’tis observed in the general conduct of our studies. ’Tis plain, it is not observed at all. For these two things are notorious: First, That very little of what is generally studied, has any tendency to livingwellhere or happily hereafter. And, Secondly, That these very studies which have no religious influence upon life, do yet devour the greatest part of it. The best and most of our time is devoted to dry learning; this we make the course of our study, the rest is only by the by. And ’tis well if what is practical or devotional, can find us at leisure upon a broken piece of a Sunday or holiday. The main current of our life runs in studies of another nature, that don’t so much as glance one kind♦aspect upon good living. Nay, ’tis well if some of them don’t hinder it. I am sure so great and so good a man asSt.Austinthought so, who speaking of the institution and discipline of his youth, has these remarkable words, “I learnt in those things many useful words; but the same might have been learntin matters that are not vain: and that indeed is the safe way, wherein children ought to be trained up. But wo unto thee thou torrent ofcustom! Who is able to resist thee! How long will it be before thou art dried up? How long wilt thou roll along the sons ofEve, into a great and formidable sea, which they can hardly pass over? Have I not, in obedience to thee, read ofJupiterthundring and fornicating at the same time? And yet, O thou hellish torrent, the sons of men are still tossed in thee, and are invited by rewards to learn these things! The pretence indeed is, that this is the way to learn words, and to get eloquence and the art of persuasion. As if we might not have known these words,Golden Shower,lap, the temple ofheaven, without reading ofJupiter’s being made a precedent for whoring? This immorality does not at all help the learning of the words: but the words greatly encourage the committing the immorality. Not that I find fault with the words themselves; they are pure and choice vessels: but with that wine of error, which in them is handed and commended to us by our sottish teachers. And yet unless we drank of it, we were beaten, nor had we any sober judge to appeal to. And yet, I, O my God, in whose presence I now securely make this recollection, willingly learnt these things, and like a wretch delighted in them, and for this I was called agood, hopeful boy.” By this you may see what the judgment of this holy and venerableperson was in his private retirements, and at the most serious intervals of his life, concerning the general course of those studies, which draw out the first runnings of our age, and which are of so great credit and authority in the world, as to go under the name of ingenious and liberal education. You see he not only disapproves them, but reckons them among those sins and irregularities of his youth, whereof he thought himself obliged to make a particular confession in this his great penetential.

♦removed the word “of” per Errata

♦removed the word “of” per Errata

♦removed the word “of” per Errata

39. And here let me not be thought immodest, if upon great consideration and full conviction, I presume to tax the management of our publick schools. Many miscarriages I might note, but I shall concern myself only with those, which the principles here laid down lead me to consider. And these we may comprehend under two general heads of complaint.

I. That they take up so much of our time.

II. That they teach us such frivolous and unprofitable things as they do.

In relation to the first, I can’t with any patience reflect, that out of so short a time as that of human life, consisting, it may be of 50 or 60 years (for where one lives longer, hundreds come short) 19 or 20 shall be spent between the dictionaryand the lexicon, in hammering out a littleLatinandGreek, and in learning a company of poetical fictions and fantastick stories. Were these things worth knowing, yet ’tis barbarous and inhuman, to make people spend so much of their little stock of time upon them. This is tomake a cureof human ignorance, and to deal with the infirmities of the mind, as some ill surgeons do with the wounds of the body. If one were to judge of the life of man by the proportion of it spent at school, one would think theAntidiluvianmark were not yet out, and that we had a prospect of at least 900 or 1000 years before us. The truth is, ’tis an intolerable abuse it should be so; and were the age as wise as it pretends to be, it would never suffer it: especially considering what late examples we have had of more compendious methods beyond the seas. It does not become me to project a scheme of school-discipline; I leave this to abler heads. Only in the mean time I may venture to say, that the common way is a very great tax upon human life; so large a portion of which can very ill be spared, to be lavished away in the first elements of learning.

*But the greatest complaint against these seminaries is, the frivolousness of the things they teach. Not only the spending so much time on the things they teach is blame-worthy, but their teaching such things at all. Setting opinion and fancy aside, what real improvement is it tothe mind of a rational creature, to be overlaid with words and phrases, and to be full charged with poetical stories and dreams? How many excellent and useful things might be learnt, while boys arethumbingandmurdering HesiodandHomer, which♦then they do not understand, and which when they do, they will throw by and despise? And that justly too: for of what signification is such stuff as this, to the accomplishment of a reasonable soul? What improvement can it be to my understanding, to know the amours ofPyramusandThisbe, or ofHeroandLeander? Do men retain any value for these things, when they grow up, or endeavour to preserve the memory of them? And why must poor boys♠be condemned to the drudgery of learning what when they are men they must and will unlearn? Why must they be forced with so great expence of time and labour, to learn♣such things as are of no standing use? So♥far from that, they are dangerous, as well as unprofitable. For I appeal to the common sense and experience of mankind, whether it be not dangerous in the highest degree, to entertain the gay catching fancies of boys, with the amorous scenes of the poets? Whether it be safe, to season their green imaginations with such images as are there painted to the life? Is not this rather the direct way to corrupt them, to sow in their tender minds the seeds of impurity, to increase their inbred propensities to evil, and lay a standing foundationfor debauchery? Let any man but consider human nature as it comes down to us fromAdam, and tell me whether he thinks a boy is fit to be trusted withOvid? I do not understand upon what principle, either of prudence or piety, such books as these should be read by any; but least of all by boys, whose soft minds are so susceptible of any ill impression. Far better were it they should continue ignorant, than that their understandings should be accomplished at the hazard of their morals; upon which such studies as these can derive no very wholsome influence. And yet to these our youth is dedicated, and in these some of us employ our riper years, and when we die, this very thing makes one part of our funeral eulogy, that we were so diligent and indefatigable in our studies, and so inquisitive in the search of knowledge, perhaps that we procured an early interment by it; when, according to the principles before laid down, we were as impertinently, though not so innocently employed all the while, as if we had been so long picking straws inBedlam.

♦“when” replaced with “then” per Errata♠inserted word “be” per Errata♣“luch” replaced with “such”♥inserted “far from” per Errata

♦“when” replaced with “then” per Errata

♦“when” replaced with “then” per Errata

♠inserted word “be” per Errata

♠inserted word “be” per Errata

♣“luch” replaced with “such”

♣“luch” replaced with “such”

♥inserted “far from” per Errata

♥inserted “far from” per Errata

40. The sum of all this is: the measure of prosecuting learning and knowledge, is their usefulness to a good life. Consequently, all prosecution of them beyond or beside this end, is impertinent and immoderate. But such is the general prosecution of learning and knowledge, as is plain by appealing to the general conduct of study. It evidently follows, that the intellectualconduct of human life is justly chargeable with an immoderate and impertinent pursuit of knowledge.

TheCONCLUSION.TO what a narrow compass, by virtue of the preceding reflections, are these three things reduced, which use to take up so large a room,viz.Learning itself, the method of learning, and the desire and prosecution of learning? These indeed are great retrenchments, but such as are just and necessary to the regulation of our intellectual conduct.And now who can forbear making these two observations, 1. That this bookish humour, which every where so prevails, is one of the spiritual diseases of mankind, one of the most malignant relics of original depravation: it carrying in it the very stamp and signature ofAdam’s transgression, which owed its birth to an inordinate desire of knowledge, 2. That those who have eyes, may in great measure spare them, and they who have not, should not much lament the want of them, upon account of learning.For my own part, I am so thoroughly convinced of the certainty of the principles here laid down, that I look upon myself as not only under a particular obligation, but almost a necessityof conducting my studies by them. The last of which has left such a deep impression upon me, that I now intend to follow the advice of the Heathen, (Marcus Antoninus, as I remember)♦Τὴν τῶν Βιβλίων δίψαν ῥῖψον.Rid thyself of the thirst after books; and to study nothing at all but what serves to the advancement of piety and a good life.♦“Τὴν τῶν Βιϐλίων δίψαὑ ρίψον” replaced with “Τὴν τῶν Βιβλίων δίψαν ῥῖψον”I have now spent about 13 years in the most celebrated university in the world; in pursuing both such learning as theacademicalstandard requires, and as my private genius inclined me to. But in truth, when I think on my past intellectual conduct, I am as little satisfied with it as with my moral; being very conscious, that the greatest part of my time has been employed in unconcerning curiosities, such as derive no degree of moral influence upon the soul that contemplates them.But I have now a very different apprehension of things, and intend to spend my uncertain remainder of time, in studying only what makes for the moral improvement of my mind, and regulation of my life: being not able to give an account, upon any rational and consistent principles, why I should study any thing else.*More particularly, I shall apply myself to read such books as are rather persuasive than instructive; such as warm, kindle, and enlarge the affections, and awaken the divine sense in the soul; as being convinced by every day’s experience,that I have more need of heat than of light. Though were I for more light, still I think this would prove the best method of illumination, and that when all is done the love of God is the best light of the soul.A man may indeed have knowledge without love; but he that loves, though he want sciences humanly acquired, yet he will know more than human wisdom can teach him, because he has that master within him who teacheth man knowledge.

TO what a narrow compass, by virtue of the preceding reflections, are these three things reduced, which use to take up so large a room,viz.Learning itself, the method of learning, and the desire and prosecution of learning? These indeed are great retrenchments, but such as are just and necessary to the regulation of our intellectual conduct.

And now who can forbear making these two observations, 1. That this bookish humour, which every where so prevails, is one of the spiritual diseases of mankind, one of the most malignant relics of original depravation: it carrying in it the very stamp and signature ofAdam’s transgression, which owed its birth to an inordinate desire of knowledge, 2. That those who have eyes, may in great measure spare them, and they who have not, should not much lament the want of them, upon account of learning.

For my own part, I am so thoroughly convinced of the certainty of the principles here laid down, that I look upon myself as not only under a particular obligation, but almost a necessityof conducting my studies by them. The last of which has left such a deep impression upon me, that I now intend to follow the advice of the Heathen, (Marcus Antoninus, as I remember)♦Τὴν τῶν Βιβλίων δίψαν ῥῖψον.Rid thyself of the thirst after books; and to study nothing at all but what serves to the advancement of piety and a good life.

♦“Τὴν τῶν Βιϐλίων δίψαὑ ρίψον” replaced with “Τὴν τῶν Βιβλίων δίψαν ῥῖψον”

♦“Τὴν τῶν Βιϐλίων δίψαὑ ρίψον” replaced with “Τὴν τῶν Βιβλίων δίψαν ῥῖψον”

♦“Τὴν τῶν Βιϐλίων δίψαὑ ρίψον” replaced with “Τὴν τῶν Βιβλίων δίψαν ῥῖψον”

I have now spent about 13 years in the most celebrated university in the world; in pursuing both such learning as theacademicalstandard requires, and as my private genius inclined me to. But in truth, when I think on my past intellectual conduct, I am as little satisfied with it as with my moral; being very conscious, that the greatest part of my time has been employed in unconcerning curiosities, such as derive no degree of moral influence upon the soul that contemplates them.

But I have now a very different apprehension of things, and intend to spend my uncertain remainder of time, in studying only what makes for the moral improvement of my mind, and regulation of my life: being not able to give an account, upon any rational and consistent principles, why I should study any thing else.

*More particularly, I shall apply myself to read such books as are rather persuasive than instructive; such as warm, kindle, and enlarge the affections, and awaken the divine sense in the soul; as being convinced by every day’s experience,that I have more need of heat than of light. Though were I for more light, still I think this would prove the best method of illumination, and that when all is done the love of God is the best light of the soul.A man may indeed have knowledge without love; but he that loves, though he want sciences humanly acquired, yet he will know more than human wisdom can teach him, because he has that master within him who teacheth man knowledge.

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