THE PURSUIT OF TRUTH.* Perhaps it may be thought that we are merely presenting rather irrelevant examples of the mere contrast of moral and immoral characters. But the difference we contend, such as it is, in the individuals we have referred to, proceeded essentially for the different philosophies of the different men. By a man's 'philosophy' we mean all that he believes. There is far more for a man to do than to merely have scientific opinions-or political opinions. All this is included; but there is far more besides. Perhaps a man's opinions consist in that resultant impression which constitutes to him the concentrated image or picture of the universe. [We continue to say "universe" for want of a better word.] We do not refer to the mere outline or picture of the physical world; but we mean that stamp and image which observation and experience have left upon the mind with regard to that whole system of things that comes within human cognizance. What think ye of the universe?-that is a man's opinions. What think ye of this complicated mystery of human existence?-that is philosophy. Now this embraces, of course, far more than what the mere scientific man believes. Much more, of course, than what the mere student of History believes. Much more, of course, than the mere slip-shod philosophy of a narrowminded politician. It includes also, of course, a certain interpretation of the leading questions of metaphysics which have engaged the human mind; and, of course, certain intelligent opinions upon matters of Theology. But besides all this-and much more-it has reference; it should be well considered, to that general and undefined class of floating opinions which concern, under various modifications, the individual life. It has reference to all those innumerable judgments which we pass, or ought to pass, on men and manners, and things in general. On, perhaps we ought to add, those various and shifting topics of thought, which to each individual-apart from those subjects more common to all— are constantly suggested by books, or the current of one's own thoughts. It takes all this to constitute and comprise a man's opinions. According to circumstances, he is Carlyle, or Dr. Arnold, or Mr. Newman, or De Quincey, or Blanco White, or Isaac Taylor, or John Owen, or Dr. Channing, or Schelling, or Kant, or Pascal, or Guizot, or Auguste Compte. All these constitute what Emerson has called "representative men." That is, they embodied certain opinions. Now, in such a galaxy, we admire all of the characters; but we hold that it matters still very much which of those men a man is. They may be all gigantic, and may throw out, every one of them, broad and shadowing branches, but they are different kinds of wood. One may be brittle and liable to decay; another may be deformed and ungrateful to the eye; another may bear too much in a certain direction; another may have grafted on it some incongruous growth; another may be planted too unsteadily in the soil; another may bear some poisonous fruit. Perhaps none, or only one, is the majestic oak, firmly rooted, compactlyfibred, richly nourished, sending out broadly and luxuriantly a faultless and imperishable shade. We do not affirm that any one of these men habitually and constantly did (or now does) all that we have been discoursing on. We only cite them as thinking men. The degree is another matter. But in so far as they omitted to think, they ought to have thought. If they had all thought well, they would in that proportion have approximated to, or surpassed the justest intellect among them. Why does one differ from another? He now regards, perhaps, in a totally different light from his compeer, all the phenomena of the universe. To that extent he takes a different path. Twenty years ago, it may be, these paths begun first to diverge. At that point, some mental in * Concluded from page 141. dolence on the part of one, some wilful disregard, perhaps, of the light, some fatuitous clinging, perhaps, to some prejudice, some neglect, perhaps, to estimate some circumstance, induced that delicate and almost unappreciable deviation from the common track, along which-now widened at such a distance-presses with so much vigor and momentum, a misdirected and erring mind. Every passing judgment is giving pressure to the compact mind. Every relaxation of thought is yielding so far from the line of voyage. The man who to-day, on an enlarged consideration, has not a precise appreciation of the value of money, will to-morrow commit a blunder in the woman he weds, and then (it is every way probable,) his whole destiny is changed from this path to that. He forms new connections, mingles in new seenes, has new annoyances, experiences new pleasures, encounters new intellects, indulges new tastes, contracts new prejudices, and the man of before is entirely different from what he might have been-better or worse. If he was a thinking man before, that step has left its mark. A wrong notion about that estimate which every man ought to put upon himself, will make an otherwise most amiable character a disagreeable companion. The absence of that enlarged consideration and philanthropy for others which increasing reflection and increasing experience will impart to the mind, makes this man a duellist and that man a tyrant. A morbid disposition to think constantly of self, transforms some fine and intellectual mind into a monster of egotism, who banishes from his social intercourse all delightful equality, and is only happy, when, in his peculiar circle, he can play the Johnson or the Coleridge, and catch the whisper, on all occasions, that he is the brilliant Mr. So-and-so. The same over-estimate leads constantly to imaginary affronts and to unfortunate alienations, and ultimately, that individual, so intelligent and agreeable, who, if he had only had a philosophy about the moral beauty of self-forgetfulness and self-negation, would have been the loveliest of characters, becomes discontented and dissatisfied, and is regarded no more by his acquaintances than a man who is uncourteous to and inconsiderate of society can be. The remaining influence of that one piece of neglect on his future character each one can fill up. That gentleman is an intelligent man, and proposes to give his son the best instruction that can be found. Having no opinions, however, though he has been reading and writing all his life—of what education is, he sends his son precisely where he would not have done, if he had foreseen the consequences. One person wants the child taught the sciences and classics. He thinks that is the business of the teacher. Another thinks the physical development of the boy absolutely essential to a healthy development of his mind. Another thinks the teacher should contribute to the moral improvement of the boy. One thinks the child ought to be imbued with the spirit of literature; another that he ought to be restricted to the severities of logic. One believes the boy ought to be constantly under discipline; another that he ought to run in the fields like a deer. One that he should go to school at ten years of age; another at four. One that boarding-school is the most objectionable of influences; another that it is far better than the day-school in town; a third that both are ruinous to the child, and that the parental roof is the only place for him to be educated. One regards the essence of education to lie in the thorough mastery of the classics-all of which must be based on a system of anterior abstract opinions lying back of all this; another, with different general views, despises the whole thing as effete and unprofitable, and advocates a training more adapted to the age and the practical duties of every day life. These views of course bear down upon others. The man who is adverse to what he considers a too violent development of the intellectual powers, keeps his son at home, and believes that amid the opening flowers and the tinted shells, the boy is filling his mind with images of beauty, contracting a taste for the teachings of nature, and strengthening and maturing his physical faculties. The man, again, who believes that the heart as well as the head is the province of the teacher, objects, perhaps, to merely secular schools. If his views are still more strict, he requires, perhaps, that religion in one of its specific forms should be inculcated in his offspring. He then demands the interposition of the Church. If a Romanist, he requires the teachings of the priest; if a Calvinist, he insists on the Assembly's Catechism. Both such men assume, it may be, an attitude hostile to the State. They do not consider the teachings of the State schools as sufficiently definite. This involves not only the question of religious teaching at the schools but also the quantum of it. This not only involves a comparison (on the part of the Calvinist, for example,) between his church and what he regards as the unevangelical churches; but also the additional comparison between it and other sects with which he may happen to fraternize. He may either be satisfied with a general religious instruction, such as the Armenian might equally accept, or he may regard it yet as expedient and important that a still more dogmatic form should be given to the theology. To do all this, he must have estimated rightly the specific differences between the different theologies: he must know something, perhaps, of the Divine decrees, of the history of Baptism, of the subject of Prelacy, the efficacy of the sacraments, &c., &c. One of these subjects would take him into the department of metaphysics, the topic of the Will-and this would land him at that ultima thule-the Origin of Evil. So inter-related are all the subjects of human thought! and so practical in the most common-place affairs of every-day life are the most remote and abstract opinions! These are mere examples. Let us take others. A man from mere impulse, or on imperfect data, (we express no opinion of the general case,) adopts the sentiments of the Temperance Reform. Perhaps a calm reflection and a patient induction would have caused him to reject them. But he spends his life an ardent tee-totaller. His family-and if a Southern man, perhaps a plantation of slavesare subjected to the same restrictions. We just suppose him for the sake of ar gument to be wrong. What is the result? Why, in the first place, he has perhaps made an idol of it. Philanthropy has trenched upon his religion. Visions of social amelioration, as he enlarges his speculations have affected his judgment. In the next place, he has perhaps spent a considerable amount of money. The same amount would perhaps have been given to other objects. He has also perhaps made enemies. He has also foregone what (to some men) would have been a source of much pleasure. Perhaps he has found his table dull without the glass of wine-and his social habits have perhaps been dropped-and he and his dependents have, in a word, without accomplishing any good, been annoying themselves for life with an unprofitable claim of conscience. Take the Know-Nothing question. It involves opinions in Church HistoryEuropean politics-dogmatic theologyconstitutional interpretation-sociology, &c., &c., &c., &c. Very few men, north or south, though the question is pressing upon us every day, have any intelligent opinions on the subject of Slavery. We do not say they have no opinions: the objection is they have too decided opinions-merely the judgments of prejudice--as they live north of one line or another, without having ever coolly, dispassionately, fairly and thoroughly considered the question. To what a considerable degree our opinion of any man is modified and affected by our estimate of his personal courage or firmness. Yet how many of us have any precise idea of what properly constitutes that attribute of character which we denominate "courage." One man is more thoughtful than another, or for some reason or other has stronger considerations to bind him to life: he is accordingly more careful: is he therefore less fearless? We might ask many other questions. There is a gay-hearted, convivial young man, who catching the prevalent vocabulary of a particular circle, speaks very familiarly of "getting on a frolic""taking a drink"-of "how many" he had imbibed without getting fuddled, &c., &c. Now in the ideal of that young man there is something that is approved of in the associations that are called up by such allusions as these. His notions of propriety accept with satisfaction the picture that is shadowed by these unmistakable touches. We of course suppose him an intelligent person, and a person of good taste. It is just here, that we press upon such an intellect then, the subject of our paper. To such a one we say, why is your sense of moral fitness so depraved, that you associate with something pleasing the idea of getting drunk, and invest with a kind of romance a debauch, or a bar-room? The application of the example is this: a system of opinions, one which sought to discover and to appropriate whatever was in harmony with truth and moral beauty, would repudiate whatever in any way did violence to the pure and elevated intellectual nature. One man who has detected some misguided and tempted creature in some solitary lapse, no more looks with any forbearance on the proscribed and miserable outcast. That one act has given stamp to the character-and the being who had been otherwise as amiable and as excellent as the rest of his species, for that erring step, is never more to be forgiven and never more to be loved. As if the character were not something far different from one solitary act—and liable in every man's case under the pressure of the same circumstances, by such a standard of rectitude, to be blighted and trodden under. So when pecuniary embarrassments come upon one in business, how many men contrive to do nothing that deviates in any measure from the strict path of duty? The temptation is great, and the charity ought to be free. Here again each one's judgments will take shape from his philosophy. That man who sets a high estimate on human virtuousness, and cherishes a certain confidence in the moral ability of mankind, will rightly be much more harsh in judging in such a case, than would some other who felt deeply impressed with the infirmities of our nature, and entertained a conviction of the inconsiderable moral differences between one man and another. There is no question lying so far back of all just views in metaphysical philosophy as that touching the Will, and its connection with those laws which regulate the phenomena of the physical world. There is no subject which is so popularly misunderstood; and none which has so many dependent trains of subsidiary truth emanating from it. We might almost say, that the government of free agents was the problem of the Universe: and yet how little is it agitated by any individual mind! Its mere connections with the philosophy of History, might establish its claims upon any one's attention. Again: we will suppose our readers to be believers in Christianity: how many of them, let us inquire of them, cherish these opinions upon any intelligent principle. How many of them know, that this age has not EXPLODED it? How many of them know that Strauss, in his Leben Jesu, has not shown it to be a phantom? or that the Philosophie Positive has not constructed a reign of Physics, upon the effète and expended epochs of Metaphysics and Theology? But even still-supposing this matter to be standing firm-what about the multitudinous interrogatories within the pale of christianity, that are bristling like a line of bayonets in the face of any one who makes a call for the truth? How many men know why they accept as a Divine Message the Gospels of the four evangelists? or why they allow Mark to be an infallible document? or why a letter of St. Paul to a private individual is to be instituted as an arbiter of the right and the wrong? or why St. Clement of Rome, or the Visions of Hermas-or the Apostolical Barnabas-are not admitted into their Canon? Who wrote the Epistle to the Hebrews? Who wrote the Epistle of Jude? And after all this is disposed of—what do you mean by inspiration? Is science in conflict with the Bible? Is the Bible Moral? Does it countenance Slavery? What if it does? Do you believe in the Old Testament? What do you think of its heroes? Of Ehud the assassin-of Jael whom the prophetess blesses for her falsehood and her deception to Sisera of Rahab who lied about the spies, and whom Paul commends for her faith-of Samson's career of violence and immorality-of David's repeated sins and irregularities, even amid the composition of the Psalms? Are you aware, that the Books of Chronicles are full of inaccuracies? Are you aware that there are many apparent inconsistencies in the evangelists? Are you aware, that some of the most important of the texts, which perhaps you rely on for your doctrines, are now considered spurious? There is no term more freely bandied about in society, or more confusedly apprehended, than that of rascal'. We hear such a man call such and such a man a rascal; and we find, perhaps, hardly a single individual, who-whatever may have been his immoralitiesthinks himself so. In the first place, what do you mean by a 'rascal?' A. is in the penitentiary: he was put there for stealing is A. a rascal? B. is not in the penitentiary: B. has not stolen: is B. a rascal? A. and B. have striking similarities of character (as far as a different circle of associations could exhibit it ;) but A. was poor and lived in the valley, and B. was rich and lived on the hill. Both are generous: both are amiable: both were kind to their parents: both are fearless: both had many friends: but A. stole. He wanted a pair of shoes; and he had not been taught to think that stealing was so particularly monstrous. B. compares himself with A., and glories in the contrast. He cannot comprehend such depravity of spirit. The fact is, however, it would take only a little twist of fortune, and the power of a limited association, to draw the very fire from B. that has made A. so leprous. But then, you say, B. is a rascal too. But you are B:-you, at random, occupying some respectable and honorable position in society. We mean gravely what we say. You may select your example. We say he will fall. Will all men steal then? We do not think so. You then think, we are not consistent. Not at all: C. VOL. XXII-13 perhaps would die of hunger before he would take one handful that was not 'honestly' come by. Well we mean this: C. will lie or he will commit adulteryor he will oppress a neighbour-or he will take a man's life-or he will be brutal to his family-or he will do something mean-or he will act selfishly-or he will, in short, commit some act not a whit better than A's. Perhaps you deny all this-we mean that such would be the case with those in society ordinarily regarded as respectable. But we still insist upon it as in the main true. Men have their different vices. This must be remembered. They are also in different circumstances—and therefore subjected to different temptations. This must be remembered. simply say, that in each man there is some point that it will not do to touch. We do not give Mr. Astor any credit for not stealing. We do not give that young lady any credit for not killing. We do not give that boy any credit for being truthful. We Are there no 'rascals' then? We do not say so. We fear the class is large. We only make a plea in behalf of the party to whom the term is so complacently applied. Every individual has his circle of 'rascals.' Not those (we are now referring to) whom the state-prison or the magistrate has taken in custody; but in and among the society he moves in. From his point of view he can see the men's foibles; and as to the reality of them, there is no doubt; but why say, that they are 'rascals?' A man of equal discernment has spotted the same blemishes amongst you and your friends. If you knew those men better, you would not call them rascals. Not that this would then have convinced you of any error: but because when we come to like people, we are willing then to tolerate their faults. We see their good points, and soon ceasing to look for perfection in any character, we learn to bear with the balance. There is far less diversity among men than people imagine. Our likes and our dislikes depend almost entirely upon the degrees of intimacy. And the rascal at a distance is the friend |