DETROSIER, R. An address on the necessity of an extension of moral and political instruction among the working classes. With a London, memoir of the author. n.a. Le 283 D48 834 STORAGE 114 2 A Cate S 1 1 1 AN ADDRESS ON THE NECESSITY OF AN EXTENSION OF MORAL AND POLITICAL INSTRUCTION AMONG THE WORKING CLASSES. BY THE LATE R. DETROSIER. the WITH A MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. PLOSEUST ONUM LONDON : CLEAVE, 1, SHOE LANE, FLEET STREET. " ། Libr. Hoosier 12.31-42 47005 INTRODUCTION TO THE FIRST LONDON EDITION OF THIS LECTURE. IN laying before the public this cheap edition of Mr. Detro sier's Address, at a time when the patronage of all ranks o the people is solicited to promote its extensive circulation it cannot but be as acceptable as useful, to say a few words of the extraordinary man who wrote it. MR. ROWLAND DETROSIER is one of the many examples this country has produced, of men who have become highly instructed and greatly useful to their fellow-men. : Nothing need be said in praise of the attainments of a self-taught man, who is capable of writing the following address they are conspicuous. Thoroughly acquainted with the habits and feelings of the working people, and knowing in what their happiness must consist, as well as the obstacles to its attainment, he set himself to work to remove the one, and to facilitate the attainment of the other. These he effected, to the greatest extent his limits permitted, and that in a masterly yet most familiar manner. Mr. Detrosier was greatly instrumental in founding and supporting the New Mechanics' Institution, at Manchester, which has, in all its departments (we believe), been main- tained and carried on by its own members. Here Mr. Detrosier occasionally read lectures on Chemistry, Natural Philosophy, Astronomy, and Morals, whilst discharging his duties as the Manager of a Manufactory. Owing to some arrangements in the business he in part conducted, he became a short time since, a public teacher, by means of lectures delivered in the country around Man- chester; and in this way he is still endeavouring to extend シン ​42 iv INTRODUCTION. his sphere of usefulness. In him precept is enforced by example; and when addressing himself to the working peo- ple, it is as one of themselves, and as it were with their own voice, he cannot, therefore, fail to produce the best possible. effect. } } The infancy and childhood of Mr. Detrosier were not nur- tured by his parents; he was bred by strangers, by whom, at nine years of age, he was put out as a warehouse boy, having learned little more than merely to read; and that little he was taught in a Sunday school. He remained in this and similar employments, until he was twelve years of age, when he was apprenticed to a fustian-cutter for seven years, and, as he observes in a letter to a friend, "from that day to the present, I have maintained myself by the sweat of my brow, or by the toil of my mind; and to my own in- dustry do I owe the little knowledge I possess." Mr. Detrosier's moral character stands high. He was married when very young, and has a family of children, to whom he is giving the best education his circumstances will permit. Every right-minded person must feel a desire that such a man should succeed in his laudable endeavours to im- prove the understanding, and amend the moral condition of that class of the people who have hitherto been the most neglected, notwithstanding the conviction which has been gradually gaining ground, of the utility of instruction to the people themselves, and of its necessity, which has become more and more apparent, for the prevention of mischief, and the promotion of all good purposes. The above was written by a distinguished friend to the education of the people, in 1831-2, at the request of the publisher. } } 1 1 } 1 1 I I t { Į 1 1 1 1 V f J 1 work good erry4 1., 1 He { } JA je ܘ > } } iges í A 1 tii A Y T OF 7?!. : MEMOIR 147 41 A .. 1. !!! 1 1 1 1 mely THE LATE ROWLAND DETROSIER. From the Manchester Times (with a few emendations), December 1834. } "ON Sunday last (23rd November), after a lingering illness of some weeks, occasioned by cold taken at the opening lecture delivered at the Mechanics' Institution, at Stratford, Rowland Detrosier, of Manchester, secretary to the late National Political Union-a devoted and sincere friend to humanity. Detrosier desired his remains to be devoted to the purposes of science. The celebrated lectures delivered to the working people of Manchester will sufficiently evidence his devotion to the cause of moral pro- gression." Such are the terms in which the London newspapers announced the death of Rowland Detrosier. To those who knew the object of this brief obituary notice, only from some casual circumstances, such as having seen his name in print, or having heard it occasion- ally mentioned in connection with some public proceeding, such a notice of him may now appear all that the occasion requires. But by those who were fully acquainted with his character and had marked his conduct-who knew the various knowledge with which he had stored his mind-who were aware of the depressing difficulties which, from the beginning to the close of his career, had opposed his progress-who knew the invincible energy with which he had overcome the obstacles that beset him, and the generous cagerness with which he sought to render his great and hard-earned acquirements subservient to the cause of social im- provement-such a passing tribute to his worth will be thought far indeed from adequate. It was amongst the well-disposed of the humbler class-of that class whose moral and social condition it was the object of his unceasing labours to amend, that his character and merits were best known and most highly valued. As a testimony of respect to the feelings of that class towards their departed friend, as well as from a sense of what is due to his memory, the writer of this, though imperfectly qualified, ventures to lay before the public a few particulars respecting him. Rowland Detrosier was the natural son of the late Mr. Robert Norris, of this town. When about a month old he was placed by his father with a poor man, a fustian-cutter, named Charles Barnes, in Longworth Street, John's Street, and by this kind and A 3 } 6 worthy man was brought up as one of his own family, having been totally abandoned by his parents. He was not the only child of these unworthy heartless people; he had a sister, who was also abandoned by them; but of whom, although he and some of his friends made many careful inquiries, no tidings were ever heard. In the neighbourhood of Detrosier's residence, and about Knott- mill and Hulme, many of the old inhabitants remember him as a boy, and speak of him with affectionate admiration on account of the quickness, vivacity, and good nature which he evinced in all his boyish sports and conduct. As soon as he was sufficiently strong he was put to work, and learned the trade of fustian cutting. Detrosier went by the name of the good man and woman who nurtured him, and was called Rowley Barnes, and it was not until he was about seventeen years of age that his foster mother informed him of his parentage, and put into his hand two letters which she had received from his mother during his infancy. Upou ascertaining the fact he changed his name to Detrosier, and upon making such inquiries as his circumstances enabled him, he learned for the first time that he had a sister. Some years afterwards, inquiry being made by some friends in London, it was ascertained that both he and his sister were born in London, that his mother resided for some time at High Row, Knightsbridge, whence she removed to an expensive house in Arlington Street, Piccadilly, where failing in business, she left the country and all trace of her was lost. His father was dead, and he could claim affinity with no one. He married when only nineteen years of age. By this impro- vident act he, and those whom it made dependent upon him, were occasionally exposed to the severest suffering. The trade of fustian- cutting at that time, as since, was subject to extreme depression; and whenever it was bad, as he had nothing but his wages to live upon, he and his family had to bear the worst evils of actual want. Speaking to the writer of this, of his occasional privations at this period of his life, he said that many times for whole days he had been without food, and for three months together he had been literally without a shirt to his back. But in the midst of misery and starvation his spirit and energy were unbroken. When he had no work he applied himself most sedulously to the acquisition of knowledge through the means of books which he borrowed. He had learned to read and write when young at a Sunday school,and had improved himself as much as he could afterwards; but the great advances which he made in the cultivation of his mind were made by application and study when he could get no work, and when, in consequence, he and his family were almost famishing. In this way he acquired a knowledge of grammar, studied music, made himself a proficient as a flute-player, taught himself French, and even some Latin, and became familiar with several branches of natural philosophy and mathematics. He always interested himself in the improvement of the labouring classes: he was very early connected with Sunday schools as a teacher, and was principally * M concerned in the management of a school of this description con- nected with the Swedenborgian chapel, in Hulme. Chiefly under his superintendence the excellent organisation of that school was completed. The principle he acted upon in conducting it was to place no limits on the subjects taught in it. Whatever a scholar wished to learn, beside the ordinary routine of reading, writing, and arithmetic, he was taught, if the means of teaching him could be supplied. One branch of knowledge after another was thus introduced into the school, until something was done towards fur- nishing instruction in almost every branch of human inquiry. As the plans of instruction in the school gradually extended, Detrosier continued by acquiring new knowledge, to prepare for further ex- tension. He became thoroughly acquainted with all the popular facts in natural history and philosophy, and at the same time he acquired great skill in illustrating the principles and exhibiting the phenomena of physical science. As a lecturer on astronomy, chc- mistry, electricity, gaivanism, mechanics, and all the subjects con- nected with them, few even of those who are professional lecturers could convey instruction to their auditors in an equally delightful and effective manner. By incessant activity and an irrepressible perseverance he procured adequate collections of apparatus, and formed classes to whom he lectured and gave instructions. He thus established two mechanics' institutions-the first that ever were established in England-one in Hulme, the other in Salford. To him, therefore, belongs the praise of being the foremost to pre- sent in practice to the labouring classes of England, as a part of regular education, objects and pursuits of an elevating and useful order. For founding these institutions he is entitled to public honour, and more especially because it is probable that he did so without having their value and importance suggested to him; for though the Andersonian Institution at Glasgow had been establish- ed several years previously, yet there is reason to believe that Do- trosier, whose general intercourse with society was at that time exceedingly confined, and who knew little of what was passing else- where, was unacquainted with its existence. But however this may be, he founded the two institutions in question, when he was himself in a state of destitution, and when, receiving no assistance from persons in happier circumstances, he had no means of forming them but such as were created by the energy and enthusiasm of his own character. Some years afterwards he founded a society among the labouring classes for the pro- motion of natural history, which, in honour of Sir Joseph Banks, he denominated the Banksian Society. Of this society he was the president, and in that capacity he published an address, which contains a concise but most forcible and impressive expo- sition of the benefits of general knowledge, and a brief but clear detail of the advantages of a knowledge of mineralogy, geology, botany, and entomology, the particular branches of science which it was the purpose of this society to cultivate. As a literary composition, as a mere piece of writing, there are few specimens 8 to the English language that can compare with the excellence of fhis address; and yet it was written hastily, in the course of a ew hours, on the spur of the occasion, and without any apparent consciousness in its author of its merits-so deeply imbued was his mind with the subject to which it refers. Actuated by the same desire to promote the interests of society which had led him to conduct Sunday schools, and form classes in natural history and philosophy, he exerted himself to diffuse, at first religious opinions, and afterwards moral and political. At the beginning, his re- ligious views were those of the Swedenborgians; but these he afterwards abandoned. He expounded his doctrines as an oc- casional preacher in Manchester and elsewhere. Towards the latter part of the time in which he preached, he had a congregation at Stockport, where he wrote and published a form of prayer, with a preface, which being a free examination of other forms of prayer, brought upon him the censure of those religionists to whose modes of worship in this respect he was opposed. While thus engaged in lecturing and preaching, he had no other dependence for his livelihood than his daily labour. About the year 1821 he was in a state of extreme distress, and being recommended to the writer of this article, he obtained, through his interference, a situation as salesman and clerk in a spinning concern. In this situation, his extraordinary qualifications and character becoming known to his employer, he was permitted, that he might have the opportunity of improving his circumstances, to give lectures on natural philo- sophy at any of the neighbouring towns where he could form a class. During all this period he continued with his usual activity to superintend the numerous schools and classes with which he was connected. When he quitted this situation, which he did as he thought for a better, he was not fortunate in getting into any other in which he remained long, and after two or three changes -always preserving the respect and good opinion of his employers -he entered into partnership with a gentleman named Marshall, as manufacturing chemists. The manufacturing department of the business was managed by Detrosier, who introduced improvements in the method of making one or two important articles, which there is little doubt would have rendered the concern successful, if it had been continued; but in the commercial difficulties of 1826 it was given up in alarm. From this time to 1830 he was variously engaged-principally as a clerk and buyer in a foreign house in the twist trade. No change of occupation, however, interrupted his attention to mechanics' institutions. He published two ad- dresses to that which he conducted, of great power and eloquence, and containing sound political and moral views. One of these addresses, exhibiting the highest order of intellectual excellence, was written, as the writer of this happens to know, in the course of one evening and in the intervals of his employment in the ware- house during part of the following morning. These addresses were published in Manchester, and no means were taken to procure for them more than a local circulation. It is, however, a = 9 ! + striking proof of their merit, that, becoming known in London, they excited there a considerable degree of curiosity respecting the* author; and on his becoming a lecturer, a subscription was privately promoted, and a sum of money sent to him to enable him to pursue the useful career he had commenced successfully. The money was collected by Mr. Francis Place, to whom Detrosier was known only by report. It was intended to make the subscription annual, and hopes were entertained that the sum thus collected would be sufficient, with the proceeds of his lectures, to place him in comfortable circumstances. The subscription led to a correspondence, and the trans- mission to London of some copies of such of Detrosier's writings as had been printed, a short account of the many excellent qual- ities he possessed, his perseverance and success in obtaining knowledge under difficulties of no ordinary cast, recommended him to the notice of some of the leading political writers in favour of civil and religious liberty and social improvement. Among others, the late illustrious Bentham was so interested by their perusal, that he immediately opened a correspondence with Detrosier, and as a mark of his approbation, sent him some of his own books. During Detrosier's residence in London, Bentham frequently saw him, and up to the time of his own death, treated him with the most flattering regard. Lady Byron also had met with the addresses, and formed so favourable an opinion of the author, that she commissioned a gentleman, a relation of her's, to find him out in Manchester, which the gentleman did, and not only presented him with £20 from her ladyship, but gave him also an invitation to her ladyship's house, in the neighbourhood of London. Of this invitation Detrosier afterwards availed himself. During the discussions in the early progress of the Reform Bill, he made several very effective speeches at some public meetings in Manchester, and by them became generally known as a politician. He had been previously invited to London, and going thither when the public mind was strongly excited by this all-engrossing sub- ject, and his connections being chiefly among those who were ac- tively engaged in promoting it, he was induced, on the formation of the National Political Union, to become the secretary. In this situation, by his labours and talents, he secured the good opinion of some of the best and most public-spirited men in the country. When the Reform Act was obtained, he resumed the labour most congenial to his tastes and judgment, of extending the means of education to the people. Their education he considered to be the only solid foundation of social improvement. To enforce his maxim, that "Knowledge to the people was the true basis of their political power," was the aim of all his exertions. To form institutions for the diffusion of knowledge, was the constant object of his solicitude-for that object he laboured with an ability and disinterestedness, and with mental and physical energy, that have rarely, if ever, been surpassed; and to that object, the assigned cause of his death shows that he sacrificed-and it will not be B 10 doubted by those who knew how ardently he felt on the subject, that he willingly sacrificed-his life. It will be seen from this imperfect but most sincere tribute to the memory of the extra- ordinary individual who is the subject of it, that among the most estimable of those who are distinguished for intellectual power, extensive attainments, and the devotion of these to the noblest philanthropy, should be ranked the name of our townsman, Rowland Detrosier. 4 ! (0 And is there no moral to this short but emphatic tale? Yes, there is one which every working man in the nation ought to understand, to appreciate, and to value, even more than his existence; for how poor, and vain, and worthless is the existence of extreme ignorance! how rich, how varied, how delightful, how useful, á life of knowledge; and who is there that might not become much better informed than he is? Very few indeed. How many are they who might, by the same means, become as learned, as useful, and as much respected, as was Detrosier. These are considerations well worthy the attention of every working man. M Détrosier was not only all that he has been described as being, but was well acquainted with metaphysics and political economy. Had he lived but a few years longer, he would have become an eminent man. But ¦ } 1 t S 1 4/1 A 45 Would working men but cultivate their faculties as he did, labour as he did, devote some portion of their time, and employ their thoughts as he did, to promote the good of others; it is impossible to say to what height they might elevate themselves. Distress would disappear from all but the unworthy; bad govern- ment, and indeed everything which now tends in so many ways to depress and injure them, would disappear; since neither bad government, nor oppression of any kind, could exist among a thoroughly well self-instructed people. 154 } ľ 1 } 1 4 * 1 . . +1│ ، ܃ ܃ ↓ 1 1 3 }} } Detrosier was SOBER; Detrosier was INDUSTRIOUS; Detrosier was painstaking, precise; Detrosier respected himself; Detrosier not only respected others, but he loved bis specles, as a good man should do, and he taxed all his energies to do them service. } J } 1 } F T 1 1 } } (1 * € F }, 1 1. f い ​{ !! 1 } ; [{ 4 } ! ܐ ܐ ؛ } 1 > ADDRESS. Two years have elapsed since I had the honour and gratification of addressing the members of the New Mechanics' Institution, and their friends, on the interesting occasion of its being opened for public instruction. If, on that occasion, it was gratifying to my feelings to address you on the advantages of education, and the prospects of our infant Institution, how much more gratifying must it be to me now, to congratulate you on the realization of our hopes, and the establishing of a property in books and materials, which has so greatly increased our means of usefulness. Met together at this time, to commemorate that interesting event, I trust the subject on which I have chosen to address you, namely, the great necessity for an extension of moral and political know- ledge among the working classes, will not be deemed inappropriate. To direct the attention of man to the attainment of moral excel- lence, cannot be considered as an act of supererogation; and as knowledge is valuable only in proportion as it tends to increase the sum of human happiness, those institutions must be imperfect in which no provision is made for the communication of moral and political knowledge. It is, however, a lamentable fact, that this part of education not only occupies individual attention the least, but is also most imperfectly taught. Yet, it will not surely be denied, that moral cultivation is as necessary to the superiority of civilized over savage mau, as the extension of knowledge in the physical sciences. Man is neither born wise nor good; his wisdom and goodness are the results of education; and the differences of character which exist in the extremes of society, in what are called civilized countries, arise not from natural incapacity on the one hand, or inherent superiority on the other, but from con- trolling circumstances in both. Man is the creature of education. and circumstances; and the general acknowledgment of this important truth would do more for the advancement of individual happiness, than can possibly be effected by acting on a supposition of an opposite tendency. It is in the circumstances by which he is surrounded, and in the erroneous education of which he is the victim, that his misery and self degradation originate. If, how→ over, we would judge correctly of the effects of education, and the influence of circumstances, we must compare the extremes of society; and, in order to form a correct estimate of the progress of moral culture, we must separate the results of scientific educa- tion from those of moral improvement. In taking this view of the subject, it will not be difficult to discover, that the civilized nations of the present day are more indebted for their vast superiority to B 2 f T 12 the increase of scientific knowledge, than to the individual extent of their moral cultivation. However humiliating it may be to our pride, it is nevertheless true, that our physical knowledge is far in advance of our moral attainments. The development of human powers in society is first physical, then mental; and this condition of our nature still remains with us, and is still strikingly manifest, though little attended to in the present state of our boasted civilization. We come into the world at a period of time when the records of the past, and the development of present discoveries, confer on us an incalculable advantage over our predecessors; yet we stop not to inquire to what it is that we owe our superiority. Dazzled with the splendid discoveries of science-proud of the almost immeasurable distance at which we have left the men of former ages, in the application of mechanics to the purposes of life-still prouder of the discovery of that Leviathan of modern times, the power of steam-and elevated beyond measure at the rapid creation of wealth which has resulted from this union of individual talent and national industry, we forget, in our delirium of joy, to ask the important question, whether morality, in the most extended signification of the word, has progressed in the ratio of scientific acquirement;-whether the great mass of our population is made better and happier-whether governors are wiser and more honest? To no part of society are these inquiries of greater moment than to the working classes; for history bears testimony to this most important truth,-POLITICAL MELIORATION IS THE RESULTING CONSEQUENCE OF MORAL PROGRESSION. What is the reiterated apology for refusing even a limited extension of acknowledged political rights to the great body of the people? Their political ignorance and moral degradation. As the friend of the working man, I cannot but deplore that, in thousands of instances, there is but too much truth in the latter accusation, and that the former has even a more extended application. It ill becomes those, however, who are instrumental to the continuation of that ignorance and degradation, to seek in its existence an apology for the perpetration of injustice, monopoly, and oppressiou. It ill becomes that class of society which receives, as a body, millions a-year for the dissemination of knowledge,to permit moral and political ignorance to exist to so degrading an extent. Institu- tions are valuable only in proportion as they tend to promote the general welfare: when they cease to do this, they sink in the public estimation, and the progress of their dissolution, though slow, is sure Is it not a fact, which reflects the greatest disgrace on those whose especial business it is to chase moral ignorance from the land, and to leave not an abiding place for vice, that even in England, notwithstanding its boasted civilization, human nature exists in all its various grades of knowledge and ignorance, except, indeed, that of positive cannibalism! Is it not a fact, that thousands of her inhabitants are still shamefully ignorant and brutal-still, to a very considerable extent,uncivilized, degraded, and inhuman? Yes, I repeat it, repeat it with regret, thousands of both sexes .N 13 exist in this country, whose claims to the character of civilized beings are of the very lowest kind. They are human machines for the creation of wealth, whose physical education in the adaptation of their power to mechanical purposes is all that is thought of. Let us neither be deceived by names nor by appearances: neither let us flatter ourselves that this, the boasted seat of every art, is a civilized country, because a portion of its inhabitants are intelligent and virtuous. Still more would I guard you against the injustice of attributing the whole of the blame to the unhappy victims of that ignorance which is the basis of domestic misery, and the stronghold of national slavery. I repeat the important philo- sophical truth,- -man is the creature of education and circum- stances. And are there not thousands in this enlightened country, whose circumstances bequeath to them little beside rising to labour and lying down to rest? Are there not thousands in this humane country, with whom labour commences almost before infancy has passed; thousands, the whole of whose education presents to them scarcely anything more edifying than the examples of ignorance and brutality? Where is the individual bold enough to say no? They have, however, one redeeming virtue-industry! matchless industry!-to develope which no pains are spared, no means left untried, that avarice can dictate, or poverty oblige its victims to submit to. They are consequently, in the generality of cases, considerably advanced in their knowledge of the mechanical arts; and beyond this, it is still presumed by some, the education of poverty ought not to extend. To govern, is assumed to be the peculiar province of the few; to labour and submit, the becoming duty of the many. Our labouring population are indeed no longer the serfs of the land, but they are the slaves of commerce, and the victims of bad government. Urged to exertion by the powerful stimulus of recurring wants, the imperious demands of their necessitous situation, the whole of their energies are directed to the attainment of one all-engrossing object, sustenance for the body; and this necessity has been taken advantage of, to push their powers of production to the greatest extent. Hence the experienced eye, and the practised hand, are enabled to effect more, much more, than man can effect in a state of inexperience and infantine society; and so far, indeed, our peasantry are civilized. In the individual application of mind to the modifications of matter, a power has been created, the limits of which it would be difficult to define. By this power we are enabled to fabricate some of the physical means of happiness, to an extent and at a price, of which, even in the memory of existing individuals, society had no previous conception. But is this the great end of social in- stitutions? Does this comprise the total of human requirements? Is man the creature of physical wants only:-or are there other subjects that ought to be included in the catalogue of essentials to human happiness? SCIENCE CREATES WEALTH; BUT IT IS MORALITY THAT PERFECTS MAN; and the greatness, the prosperity, the happiness of a nation, demand the inseparable union of both. 14 1 Were some catastrophe of nature instantly to destroy the records of human intelligence at present existing in this country, to sweep away in an instant, all those things, on the existence and posses sion of which the comforts of life, in the different grades, of society depend; to strip the land of all those witnesses of existing and past intelligence by which it is at present ornamented; and, sparing the population, to leave them the alternative of remaining destitute, or of constructing for themselves the requisites and comforts of life; who can doubt, for a moment, our physical power, or mechanical capacity, to extricate ourselves even from so forlorn a situation? But, let us ask the important question-are we as powerful in moral excellence as we are in mechanical skill? Were some political catastrophe to leave every man to be governed solely by the degree of knowledge which he individually might possess, what would be the scene presented to the eye of the spectator? What would be the moral consequence? What proportion of our population would be disposed to fulfil their moral engagement? What proportion would have principle enough to be a law unto themselves? Every one must feel the importance of these questions; the answer to which, were it possible to give it, would decide our claim to the character of a civilized nation, and shew the amount of our moral excellence. A nation is civilized or savage, not in proportion to the morality or intelligence of the few, but of the many; for as the author of the Wealth of Nations has well remarked:-"Though a few indi- viduals may possess great abilities, all the nobler parts of the human character may be obliterated and extinguished in the great body of the people." I will add, that where those qualities are ever called into active existence, in the great mass of the people, the result is as fatal, the consequences as serious, and as much to be regretted, as their entire obliteration and extension. The great end of social institutions ought to be the melioration of the moral, physical, and intellectual state of the poorest and most numerous class of society. Is this the end of the great institu- tions of England, where nine millions a-year are secured to one class of society, for the communication of knowledge, the cultiva- tion of finer feelings, and the extension of vice? Ask from that system of patronage and pluralities which at present disgraces the annals of our country-ask from that system of fiscal oppres- sion by which placemen, pensioners, sinecurists, and loan-jobbers are supported-ask from that system of legislative morality which, whilst it tempts poverty with a bribe, to become the slave of,. drink, makes use of the produce to enslave its victim. 1}\ Is it not a lamentable truth, that whilst almost every part of society is educated to provide for the physical wants of life, com-, paratively no portion of it is educated to promote the happiness of all? That whilst every faculty of the human edifice is pressed: into the service of the belly and the back, the moral capacities of the great mass of our population are either left without cultivation; or are vitiated by a system of false education? Every where we }} J M 15 may discover apprentices to mechanical trades; but which among them is apprenticed to morality? That which ought to be the business of all is confined to a few; and our national character is degraded, not from physical incapacity, but from a want of proper cultivation. The little that we teach is taught badly; it is de- ficient not only in matter and in manner, but also in the existence of approving and confirming circumstances. Ignorance is edified by a system of command: and “thou shalt," or "thou shalt not," constitutes the enlightened substitute for the explanation of necessity and moral obligation. It is the despotic morality of ages gone by, and is admirably adapted to the perpetuation of moral ignorance. Shall I be told that my assertion is not founded in truth? My reply will be a call for the code of morality that gives reason for its requirements. Where are the children of poverty taught the necessity of moral obligation? "Thou shalt not steal" is a command; but why is it not stated,-To bear false witness is forbidden; but to what page of the moral code shall the attention be directed to discover what constitutes the nature of the crime? Who thinks of teaching poverty the nature of vested rights, or of explaining to the child of the operative the history of property, or the use of its institution? Where is the youth who understands the evils of lying and deceit; or who could explain the serious consequences to society of a system of general falsification ?— Amidst this dearth of appropriate moral teaching, is it not pre- posterous to expect the consistent performance of political duty, or the existence of noble and patriotic sentiments among the people? The ancients taught patriotism as a virtue; and it is important to enquire if it has ceased to be such ? If it has not, what code of the moderns contains its precepts, and where is poverty taught to revere them? if, however, our morality and patriotism are, in the great mass, the offspring of chance, our national industry is not committed to the same fostering hand. On every side may we hear the debasing sentiment, "Take care of number one;" but where are the advocates of the ennobling virtues of patriotism and the love of mankind? It is more than probable, that whilst putting these questions, some minds are whispering to themselves-the SUNDAY SCHOOL -the infant Hercules of modern times, whose task it is to cleanse the Augcan stable of ignorance, brutality, and vice. Infant, indeed; for though it has increased the extent of its operations, its practices have been almost stationary in improvements. Think not, however, that I mean to deny the amount of good of which the Sunday School has been the medium. I acknowledge it; as a lover of my species, gratefully acknowledge it. But oh! how much is it short of what might be effected! They are the children of the poor who are taught there, and the day to them is of infinite value. Every moment of that day which is spent in the school, should be devoted to instruction only, and that instruction should be practical and useful. Is it so? Is it so? I reply, without hesi- tation, that the greater portion of it is not. Let no man accuse • - 16 W me of an improper motive in making these remarks. I may err in judgment, certainly not in intention. My anxious desire is, that this powerful medium of moral and political regeneration may be rendered effective to national purposes; and impelled by considerations of social duty, at the risk of misrepresentation, I put the following questions:How much of the precious time of this fastday of poverty from labour is taken up in listening to prayers, the language and the bearings of which, however, well intentioned they may be, are beyond the comprehension of infancy? How much of that time is devoted to the reading of matter which is foreign to the purposes of every day life? The great object of such an institution ought to be the formation of character, and the development of mind; and the most powerful means will be found to be PRIDE AND INTEREST. Engage their pride on the side of knowledge and virtue, and let the discipline of the school be calculated to inspire them with a conviction that it is their interest to attain the one, and to practise the other. Elevate the character, and teach poverty that it has something to labour for, independent of riches--the greatness of moral worth. At no period of life are proper subjects for contemplation of greater im- portance than during childhood and youth; and the curiosity in- cident to these portions of our existence, when properly directed, becomes one of the most important coadjutors in the formation of character. Seize upon this disposition of our nature, and secure it in the cause of human progression, by gratifying its anxious inquiries with useful information and philosophical facts. Let the youthful mind be stored, each succeeding week, with natural truths or moral principles, on which it may employ the activity of its thoughts; and it will discover, by degrees, an increase of its strength, in that increase of knowledge on which the mind re- poses with satisfaction. The affections will then be engaged in favour of knowledge and virtue, and the true foundation for an abhorrence of brutality and vice will be implanted. Let our Sunday Schools become the UNIVERSITIES OF THE POOR, in which the infant mind shall be taught to look through nature up to nature's source, by teaching it the simple elements and rudimental facts of natural philosophy. And let our first books contain them. Teach it the dignifying truth, that the only acceptable service to that source is to love and serve their fellow-men. Let a reason accompany every moral precept, and an illustration every prin- ciple in philosophy. Let grammar, geography, and every useful branch of knowledge be taught there, and let writing be made subservient to all. Discard the silly practice of setting copies without meaning, and substitute the principles and truths of natural, moral, and political philosophy, so that the learning of one branch of knowledge may become subservient to many others. And whilst labouring in this holy work of human improvement, let it not be forgotten, that no sure foundation can be laid for. domestic happiness, or for the full development of virtuous cha- racter, if WOMAN be not made a full partaker of the benefits. [ [ 1 planą → 17 I know that some minds will be startled at these propositions, and that many will be prepared to oppose them with all that warmth which characterizes zeal without knowledge. It is, how- ever, to reason, not to prejudice, that I appeal. Assured that the day is sanctified by the deed-not the deed by the day; and con- vinced that no labour can be more holy than that which tends to increase the amount of human happiness, by preparing the rising generation to become the recipients of moral and philosophical truths, and the practises of every social duty, I feel confident that reason will ultimately prevail. "The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath ;" and let it not be forgotten, that “it is lawful to do good even on the Sabbath-day.” It has often been remarked, that the amount of good resulting from Sunday School tuition is by no means commensurate to the labour. The fault is in the system of teaching, and the subjects on which the time is unhappily wasted. If the full development of mind, and the correct formation of character, be not the ultimate objects of that teaching, it has comparatively small, if any, merit. Let the system be reformed, and the sooner the better; for the reformation of an error cannot commence too soon. Let the formation of a national character of which we may justly be proud, become the great object of our teaching; and let the crowning stone of our labours be the patriotic love of mankind. Then, when our youth shall be taught in the Sunday School, the philosophy of nature, of morality, and of politics,-then, indeed, will it become the full- grown Hercules of truth, that will strangle the reptiles of corrup- tion and vice, if it be supported by a proper education at home. Without this, its best endeavours will be comparatively fruitless. Education consists not merely in the learning to read and to write. Whatever tends to give a bias to the feelings, to the formation of opinions, or to the adoption of habits, constitutes a part of educa- tion. Precept should be supported by example, and habit be rendered confirmatory of both. It has been well remarked by Mr. Mill, in his article on Education, that "early impressions form the primary habits, and that the primary habits constitute the cha- racter of the man. The consequence is most important; for it follows, that as soon as the infant, or rather the embryo begins to feel, the character begins to be formed." In this respect the working classes of this country have much to learn; and they have hitherto been deplorably deficient in good practical instruc- tors. They have been so long taught that humility is a virtue,— so long left without the knowledge requisite to distinguish be- tween a becoming humility and a debasing submission, that the pride of character and moral worth-the dignifying consideration, that they form the base of the great social edifice, and that they have a moral and political character to sustain, of which they ought to be most tenacious, comes not within the knowledge or consi- deration of thousands. If the working classes of this country would redeem their children from the political evils by which they are themselves oppressed, they must aid, by every means in their с Categ 18 power, in the formation of a character which shall be prepared to obtain relief. Truth, honesty, kindness, and sobriety must be the never-failing examples, Truth! for the parent who forbids lying, yet practices the vice, is rendered contemptible in the esti- mation of his child, and his precept loses its force. Honesty! for he who enjoins it, yet contracts debts he never means to pay, or is otherwise dishonest, is rendered contemptible in the eyes of all. Kindness! for it is the anointing oil of family love and peace; is essential to the comfort of the domestic circle; and its influence in the formation of character is most important. Th The youth that has been accustomed to tyranny at home, is prepared to practise it when circumstances give the power. How can a father expect his children to pay respect to their mother, if he set the example of disrespect himself? How can a mother ex- pect obedience and deference to a father, if she set the example of indifference herself? And how shall parents expect to remain objects of esteem to their children, if their conduct be charac- terized by brutality and vice? The formation of a good character requires consistency of example. The man who thinks it too much trouble to thank his wife for an act of kindness, sets an example to his children which they will not fail to imitate. Let every act of kindness be accompanied by an acknowledgment, the repetition of which will form the links of that chain on the ex- istence of which an affectionate union is dependent. It will aid in fixing each act of kindness upon the mind; the doer will be associated with the memory of the deed, and they will be less likely to treat each other with harshness, on the tablets of whose hearts exist the abiding records of love and kindness. The little- ness of wealthy pride may lead it to remark, that this is an edu- cation unsuited to poverty. It may tend, however, to the edi- fication of that littleness, to inform it, that kindness, and moral dignity become the cottage as well as the palace. It is true, they are too often wanting at the poor man's dwelling, and "pity 'tis 'tis true;" but if instruction is to be denied him in any portion of the moral domain, blame him not for the brutality that is the consequence of ignorance. The virtues that adorn the domestic circles of wealth lose none of their intrinsic value when trans- planted to the cottage hearth. It is time to chase from the latter all debasing humility, and to teach its too humble inhabitants a proper and becoming pride; that pride will lead to an abhor- rence of meanness, and will be the powerful support of a virtu- ous emulation. Jud Last, though not least, in the catalogue of essentials to the increase of moral force, let the poor man be too proud to be a drunkard; or let him be discarded from the society of those who advocate good government and the cause of suffering humanity. Proclaim to the working classes, from morn to night-fall, that NO POLITICAL CHANGE CAN EFFECT THE MELIORATION OF HIS CON- DITION WHO IS THE SLAVE OF DRUNKENNESS; and add to it this important truth, that political melioration is the resulting سے 19 consequence of moral progression. With what consistency can that man reprobate the bad government of his country, who practises not good government at home? government at home? Or how shall that father reprove his child for immorality, who is himself an habitual drunkard? The vice of drunkenness is that which more espe- cially unveils the deficiency of moral culture in this country. We affect an abhorrence of the crimes of savage life; yet, whilst exulting in the superiority of our attainments, were we to insti- tute a comparison between the lowest state of savage existence and that of the brutal and confirmed drunkard, our pride might receive a salutary check, in the conviction, that even cannibalism is scarcely more odious than drunkenness. The cannibal exists in a state of moral infancy, in which we discover that entire ab- sence of governing principle,-that absolute freedom of will which has so often occupied the attention of philosophers, and in praise of which, partial knowledge has frequently had so much to say. Unchecked by considerations of humanity or moral feeling-un- restrained by a sense of right or wrong-the cannibal sits down with exultation to the war-feast of victory and joy; and whilst devouring the dead body of his slaughtered foe, constitutes the true representation of freedom of will. In contemplating such a state of savage existence, in such a moral desert, enlightened humanity is shocked at the commission of crimes for which no- Nor is this to body blushes, because they are permitted by all. be wondered at. Living in a state of society in which unre- strained will is the only governing principle-in which he is most reverenced who is most to be feared-in which cruelty is the re- deeming virtue, not the odious vice-every external influence operates to produce a character ruthless in principle, and cruel in deed. Murder, torture, treachery, and deceit, are among the vir- tues, not the crimes, of the lowest stage of human existence. Shame, in such a state, has not yet spread its tell-tale hue over the countenance of man; and a good conscience, the offspring of moral education, is unknown. With no good principle to appeal to-no law to control-what but the most despotic authority could govern a society of individuals such as these? And what principle has the brutal and confirmed drunkard? What law is strong enough to control him? What is his superiority over the cannibal? Is he checked by considerations of humanity or moral feeling, er restrained by a sense of right, or wrong, when, daily sitting down to the feast of his cups, he swallows, at each repeated draught, not, indeed, the body of a slaughtered foe, but the hap- piness and well-being of his wife and children, nor blushes at the deed which consigns them to wretchedness and want? And shall such beings prate about liberty and equality? The liberty they desire is the liberty to do wrong; and to descend to an equality with such individuals, is a degradation to which no honest man will stoop. Herding with society in such unrestrained will is the only governing principle-in which he is most reverenced who is most reckless-every external influence operates to the degra- De 20 dation of the man, and the increase of brutality. Witness the horrid spectacle of the domestic scene. The sound of his foot is the signal of fear, not of joy. The father that should protect, coming home to abuse; and the child clings to its trembling mo- ther in a frail, fruitless, but holy effort, to form a barrier of affec- tion between her and brutality, Almost exhausted from the want of a sufficiency of food, half-naked, and wholly wretched, the pi tiable partner of this human monster sues with fear and trembling for the miserable pittance which his brutal habit has spared for them. This picture of human degradation lacks but one more character to render its odiousness complete-the drunken mother. Then, indeed, the cup of domestic wretchedness is filled to do I brim, and poverty, disease, and crime, are secure of their victims. If humanity is shocked at the supposed existence of such wretched- ness, what must be the state of feelings on contemplating the reality? Drunkenness is the crying sin of this country, and its de- basing consequences are manifest iuthousands of instances, in the poverty and immorality of its victims. Nor are the consequences of this odious vice confined to the domestic circle; they influence the happiness and prosperity of the nation. Wealth, not wisdom, -corruption, not virtuous consistency, has hitherto been the highway to a seat in our Legislative Assembly, the members of which have sought to indemnify themselves from the labour of all, for that which they have spent in the corrupting of a herd of misnamed freemen. The corrupted vcter mortgages his own and his neighbour's labour, and drinks the produce without shame or remorse; and justice and morality are outraged through the land, whilst their paid guardians remain passive spectators. The labouring population of this country cannot begin their do- mestic prosperity-cannot raise themselves in the scale of political greatness, until they have raised themselves in moral excellence, and have learned the habits of prudence and sobriety. It has heen correctly observed by a learned German writer, that "in all that is beyond mere animal organization, nature has placed in the hands of man the care of his own destiny: deprived of the suc- cours of instinct, by the force of reason alone he must conquer and secure all the sum of happiness aad of perfection which he ought to enjoy as his proper share. The safety of his person, the invention of his clothes, the engagements which constitute the charms of life, his knowledge, his prudence, all, even the rectiš tude of his will, must be his own work." ,, } This important remark, which relates to the general mass of mankind, is particularly applicable to the labouring population of this country. Their destiny is in their own hands, to a very considerable extent; for the endeavours of that portion of the higher grades of society which has wisdom, virtue, and humanity sufficient to induce it to labour for the good of the working · classes, can effect but little, if the latter do not aid them by con- sistency of conduct and unity of purpose. "Put thy own shoulder to the wheel," was the reply of Jupiter to the waggoner; and ¿ T i 21: STORY seeing the necesssity of a change in the moral and political culture of operative classes, I call upon them to unite in the endea to effect that for themselves which others do not seem dis- posed to do for them. Acquire for yourselves a political impor- tance, by the force of character; by inoral consistency and mental improvement; for hitherto the labouring population of this country. has been powerless, except as a mob. Think not that this remark is dictated by a feeling of reproach or contempt. Far other are the sentiments that animate my mind. "The know- ledge of a disease is half its cure ;" and it is most important to the working classes of this country, that they should become con- vinced that political reform, to effect the regeneration of national happiness, must be supported by moral improvement. It is ad- mitted on all hands, that to secure "the greatest happiness to the greatest number," ought to be the primary object of all govern- ments; but it is by no means so generally admitted, that, in order to effect this desirable end, two kinds of good government are es- sential- DOMESTIC as well as NATIONAL. The wisest political in- stitutions cannot avert the natural consequences of individual vice; but such is the force of individual virtue, that were a nation truly civilized, a vicious government could not exist. If this be true, why not make public education a part of our scheme for ob- taining political reform.. Why not educate our youth to public as well as to private virtue? He who is not a good citizen is but half a social man. It is by the progress of intelligence and morality that the melioration of political institutions has been effected. The change of human laws, the modifications of their severity, to- gether with that of the kinds of punishment, which have been effected from time to time, are so many barometrical indications of the existing state of morality and social improvement in the great body of the people, and of the degree of enlightened humanity in the governing mind, at the different periods at which they have taken place. In proportion as man becomes enlightened and moral, in such proportion he learns to appreciate bis natural rights, and to husband his moral force. The iron rod of power is no longer ne- cessary to restrain him from the commission of crime, whose cor- rected judgment leads him to abhor it. Tyranny is the natural con- comitant of ignorance and barbarism, and despotism the baby-step of civilization. How important, then, it is, that moral and political knowledge should be extended to the great mass of the population; that in all our institutions for the dissemination of knowledge to the working classes, the best possible means should be adopted for the formation of character and the development of mind. Ve ܪ As one great means to this desirable end, it behoves the working classes to cultivate a proper and becoming pride, and to support, by consistency of conduct, the enlightened efforts of that portion of the rich who are sincerely anxious for their welfare, and have laboured to promote it. The formation of a character in the rising generation, which shall be equal to the task of assisting in the ob- taining and securing of wise political institutions, demands a change 22 in the system of our moral teaching. Let its principal bearing and tendency be to increase the moral dignity and happiness of man upon earth. Listen to the language of the celebrated Adam Smith "Wherein consisted the happiness and perfection of a man, considered not only as an individual, but as the member of a family, of a state, and of the great society of mankind, was the object which the ancient moral philosophers proposed to investigate. In that philosophy, the duties of human life were treated of as subservient to the happiness and perfection of human life. But when moral, as well as natural philosophy, came to be taught only as subservient to theology, the duties of human life were treated of as chiefly subservient to the happiness of a life to come, In the ancient philosophy, the perfection of virtue was represented as necessarily productive, to the person who possessed it, of the most perfect happiness in this life. In the modern philosophy, it was frequently represented as generally, or rather as almost always inconsistent with any degree of happiness in this life; and heaven was only to be earned by penance and mortification by the austerities and abasements of a monk, not by the liberal, generous, and spirited conduct of a man." There is a saying, that "the poor shall have their good things hereafter, whilst the rich shall be sent empty away." Enlightened humanity cries with an unceasing voice,-let the poor enjoy as much as possible of good things in this life, and let all the virtuous, the humane, and the truly patriotic, unite to obtain them the restoration of prosperity, and labour to give them the moral and political knowledge that will enable them to secure it. We live at a period when the exciting causes of political changes are pecu- liarly active; and when, as I have before remarked, the apology for the limited extension of acknowleged political rights, to the great body of the people, is their political ignorance and moral degradation. "Till recently," says Mr. Mill, in the article which I have before quoted, "it was denied that intelligence was a de- sirable quality in the great body of the people; and as intelligence is power, such is an unavoidable opinion in the breasts of those who think that the human race ought to consist of two classes- one, that of the oppressors-another, the oppressed. The concern which is now felt for the education of the working classes, shows that we have made a great step in knowledge, and in that genuine morality which ever attends it." That concern, however, has hitherto manifested itself almost exclusively in the teaching of physical, not of moral and political science. And when the friends of good government ask for a restoration of the rights and privi- leges of the people, the answer is, they are not prepared to receive them; they are not yet sufficiently informed on political subjects. "Give them political knowledge," say the former. They are not prepared to receive it, they have not sufficient knowledge to be entrusted with it," reply the latter. Heaven save the mark! They are too ignorant to be taught; so that ignorance is not only made the apology for injustice, but also for the continuation of its Kotamobagus