THE CULTIVATOR. 
79 
superiority, as to the simplicity, impartiality and dis¬ 
interestedness of their minds, to their readiness to live 
and (lie for the truth. A man who rises above himself, 
looks from an eminence on nature and providence, on 
society and life. Thought expands as by a natural elasti¬ 
city, when the pressure of selfishness is removed. The 
moral and religious principles of the soul, generously 
cultivated, fertilize the intellect. Duty, faithfully per¬ 
formed, opens the mind to truth, both being of one 
family, alike immutable, universal and everlasting. 
I have enlarged on this subject, because the connexion 
between moral and intellectual culture is often over¬ 
looked, and because the former is often sacrificed to the 
latter. The exaltation of talent as it is called, above 
virtue and religion, is the curse of the age. Education 
is now chiefly a stimulus to learning, and thus men ac¬ 
quire power without the principles which alone make 
it a good. Talent is worshipped ; but, if divorced from 
rectitude, it will prove more of a demon than a god. 
Intellectual culture consists, not chiefly, as many are 
apt to think, in accum ulating information, though this is 
important, but in building up a force of thought which 
may be turned at will on any subjects, on which we are 
called to pass judgment. This force is manifested in 
the concentration of the attention, in accurate penetrat¬ 
ing observation, in reducing complex subjects to their 
elements, in diving beneath the effect to the cause, in 
detecting the more subtle differences and resemblances 
of things, in reading the future in the present, and espe¬ 
cially in rising from particular facts to general laws or 
universal truths. This last exertion of the intellect, its 
rising to broad views and great principles, constitutes 
what is called the philosophical mind, and is especially 
worthy of culture. What it means, your own observation 
must have taught you. You must have taken note ol 
two classes of men, the one always employed on details, 
on particular facts, and the other using these facts, as 
foundations of higher, wider truths. The latter are phi¬ 
losophers. For example, men had for ages seen pieces 
of wood, stones, metals falling to the ground. Newton 
seized on these particular facts, and rose to the idea, that 
all matter tends, or is attracted, towards all matter, and 
then defined the law according to which this attraction or 
force acts at different distances, thus giving us a grand 
principle which, we have reason to think, extends toand 
controls the whole outward creation. One man reads a 
history and can tell its events, and there stops. Another 
combines these events, brings them under one view, and 
learns the great causes which are at work on this or 
another nation, and what are its great tendencies whether 
to freedom of despotism, to one or another form of civi¬ 
lization. So one man talks continually about the par¬ 
ticular actions of this or another neighbor; whilstanother 
looks beyond the acts to the inward principle from which 
they spring, and gathers from them larger views of hu¬ 
man nature. In a word, one man sees all things apart 
arid in fragments, whilst another strives to discover the 
harmony, connexion, unity of all. One of the great evils 
of society is, that men occupied perpetually with petty 
details, want general truths, want broad and fixed prin¬ 
ciples. Hence many, not wicked, are unstable, habitu¬ 
ally inconsistent, as if they were overgrown children 
rather than men. To build up that strength of mind, 
which apprehends and cleaves to great universal truths, 
is the highest intellectual self-culture ; and here I wish 
you to observe how entirely this culture agrees with that 
of the moral and the religious principles of our nature, 
of which I have previously spoken. In each of these, 
the improvement of the soul consists in raising it above 
what is narrow, particular, individual, selfish, to the 
universal and unconfined. To improve a man, is to 
liberalize, enlarge him in thought, feeling and purpose. 
Narrowness of intellect and heart, this is the degrada¬ 
tion from which all culture aims to rescue the human 
being. 
Again. Self-culture is Social, or one of its great offi¬ 
ces is to unfold and purify the affections, which spring 
up instinctivelyin the human breast, which bind together 
husband and wife, parent and child, brother and sister ; 
which bind a man to friends and neighbors, to his coun¬ 
try, and to the suffering who fall under his eye, wher¬ 
ever they belong. The culture of these is an important 
part of our work, and it consists in converting them from 
instincts into principles, from natural into spiritual at¬ 
tachments, in giving them a rational, moral, and holy 
character. For example, our affection for our children 
is at first instinctive ; and if it continue such, it rises 
little above the brute’s attachment to its young. But 
when a parent infuses into his natural love for his off¬ 
spring moral and religious principle, when he comes to 
regard his child as an intelligent, spiritual, immortal 
being, and honors him as such, and desires first of all to 
make him disinterested, noble, a worthy child of God 
and the friend of his race, then the instinct rises into a 
generous and holy sentiment. It resembles God’s pater¬ 
nal love for his spiritual family. A like purity and 
dignity we must aim to give to all our affections. 
Again. Self-culture is practical, or it proposes as one 
of its chief ends to fit us for action, to make us efficient 
in whatever we undertake, to train us to firmness of 
purpose and to fruitfulness ol resource in common life, 
and especially in emergencies, in times of difficulty, 
danger and trial. But passing over this and other topics 
for which I have no time, I shall confine myself to two 
branches of self-culture which have been almost wholly 
overlooked in the education of the people, and which 
ought not to be so slighted. 
In looking at our nature, we discover, among its ad¬ 
mirable endowments, the sense or perception of Beauty. 
We see the germ of this in every human being, and there 
is no power which admits greater cultivation ; and why 
should it not be cherished in all ? It deserves remark, 
that the provision for this principle is infinite in the 
universe. There is but a very minute portion of the 
creation, which we can turn into food and clothes, or 
gratification for the body; but the whole creation may 
be used to minister to the sense of beauty. Beauty is 
an all-pervading presence. It unfolds in the numberless 
flowers of the spring. It waves in the branches of the 
trees and the green blades of grass. It haunts the 'depths 
of the earth and sea, and gleams out in the hues of the 
shell and the precious stone. And not only these minute 
objects, but the ocean, the mountains, the clouds, the 
heavens, the stars, the rising and setting sun, all over¬ 
flow with beauty. The universe is its temple; find those 
men, who are alive to it cannot lift their eyes without 
feeling themselves encompassed with it on every side. 
Now this beauty is so precious, the enjoyments it gives 
are so refined and pure, so congenial with our tenderest 
and noble feelings, and so aim to worship, that it is 
painful to think of the multitude, of men as living in the 
midst of it, apd4wng almost as blind to it, as if, instead 
of this fair earth and glorious sky, they were tenants of 
a dungeon. An infinite joy is lost to the world by the 
want of culture of this spiritual endowment. Suppose 
that I were to visit a cottage, and to see its walls lined 
with the choicest pictures of Raphael, and every spare 
nook filled with statues of the most exquisite workman¬ 
ship, and that 1 were to learn, that neither man, woman 
nor child ever cast an eye at these miracles of art, how 
should I feel their privation; how should I want to open 
their eyes, and to help them to comprehend and feel the 
loveliness and grandeur which in vain courted their 
notice. But every husbandman is living in sight of the 
works of a diviner artist; and how much would his ex¬ 
istence be elevated, could he see the glory which shines 
forth in their forms, hues, proportions and moral expres¬ 
sion! I have spoken only of the beauty of nature, but 
how much of this mysterious charm is found in the ele¬ 
gant arts and especially in literature ? The best books 
have most beauty. The greatest truths are wronged if 
not linked with beauty, and they win their way most 
surely and deeply into the soul when arrayed in this 
their natural and fit attire. Now no man receives the 
true culture of a man, in whom the sensibility to the 
beautiful is not cherished; and I know of no condition 
in life from which it should be excluded. Of all luxuries 
this is the cheapest and most at hand ; and it seems to 
me to be most important to those conditions, where 
coarse labor tends to give a grossness to the mind. From 
the diffusion of the sense of beauty in ancient Greece, 
and of the taste for music in modern Germany, we learn 
that the people at large, may partake of refined gratifi¬ 
cations which have hitherto been thought to be necessa¬ 
rily restricted to a few. 
What Beauty is, is a question which the most pene¬ 
trating minds have not satisfactorily answered ; nor, 
were I able, is this the place for discussing it. But one 
thing I would say ; the beauty of the outward creation 
is intimately related to the lovely, grand, interesting at¬ 
tributes of the soul. It is the emblem or expression of 
these. Matter becomes beautiful to us, when it seems 
to lose its material aspect, its inertness, finiteness and 
grossness, and by the ethereal lightness efits forms and 
motions, seems to approach spirit; when it images to us 
pure and gentle affections ; when it spreads out into a 
vastness which is a shadow of the Infinite ; or when in 
more awful shapes and movements it speaks of the Om¬ 
nipotent. Thus outward beauty is akin to something 
deeper and unseen, is the reflection of spiritual attri¬ 
butes ; and of consequence the way to see and feel it 
more and morq keenly, is to cultivate those moral, 
religious, intellectual and social principles of which I 
have already spoken, and which are the glory of the 
spiritual nature; and I name this that you may see, what 
I am anxious to show, the harmony which subsists among 
all branches of human culture, or how each forwards 
and is aided by all. 
There is another power, which each man should culti¬ 
vate according to his ability, but which is very much 
neglected in the mass of the people, and that is the power 
of Utterance. A man was not made to shut up his mind 
in itself; but to give it voice and to exchange it for other 
minds. Speech is one of our grand distinctions from the 
brute. Our power over others lies not so much in the 
amount of thought within us, as in the power of bring¬ 
ing it out. A man of more than ordinary intellectual 
vigor, may for want of expression, be a cypher, without 
significance, in society. And not only does a man in¬ 
fluence others, but he greatly aids his own intellect, by 
giving distinct and forcible utterance to his thoughts. 
We understand ourselves better, our conceptions grow 
clearer, by the very effort to make them clear to another. 
Our social rank too depends a good deal on our power 
of utterance. The principal distinction between what 
are called gentlemen and the vulgar lies in this, that the 
latter are awkward in manners, and are especially want¬ 
ing in propriety, clearness, grace, and force of utterance. 
A man who cannot open his lips without breaking a rule 
of grammar, without showing in his dialect or brogue or 
uncouth tones his want of cultivation, or without dark¬ 
ening his meaning by a confused, unskilful mode of com¬ 
munication, cannot take the place to which perhaps his 
native good sense entitles him. To have intercourse 
with respectable people, we must speak their language. 
On this account, I am glad that grammar and a correct 
pronunciation are taught in the common schools of this 
city. These are not trifles ; nor are they superfluous to 
any class of people. They give a man access to social 
advantages, on which his improvement very much de¬ 
pends. The power of utterance should be included by 
all in their plans of self-culture. 
I have now given a few views of the culture, the im¬ 
provement, which every man should propose to himself. 
I have all along gone on the principle, that a man has 
within him capacities of growth, which deserve, and 
will reward, intense, unrelaxing toil. I do not look on a 
human being as a machine, made to be kept in action 
by a foreign force, to accomplish an unvarying succes¬ 
sion of motions, to do a fixed amount of work, and then 
to fall to pieces at death, but as a being of free spiritu¬ 
al powers; and I plaee little value on any culture, but 
that which aims to bring out these, and to give them 
perpetual impulse and expansion. I am aware, that 
this view is far from being universal. The common no¬ 
tion has been, that the mass of the people need no other 
culture than is necessary to fit them for their various 
trades; and though this error is passing away, it is far 
from being exploded. But the ground of a man’s cul¬ 
ture lies in his nature, not in his calling. His powers 
are to be unfolded on account of their inherent dignity, 
not their outward direction. He; is to be educated, be¬ 
cause he is a man, not because he is to make shoes, 
nails, or pins. A trade is plainly not the great end of 
his being, for his mind cannot be shut up in it; his force 
of thought cannot be exhausted on it. He has faculiies 
to which it gives no action, and deep wants it cannot 
answer. Poems, and systems of theology and philoso¬ 
phy, which have made some noise in the world, have 
been wrought at the work-bench and amidst the toils of 
the field. How often, when the arms are mechanically 
plying a trade, does the mind, lost in reverie or day 
dreams, escape to the ends of the earth ! How often 
does the pious heart of woman mingle the greatest of 
all thoughts, that of God, with household drudgery! 
Undoubtedly a man is to perfect himself in his trade, 
for by it he is to earn his bread and to serve the com- 
, munity. But bread or subsistence is not his highest 
good; for if it were, his lot would be harder than that 
oi the inferior animals, for whom nature spreads a ta¬ 
ble and weaves a wardrobe, without a care of their own. 
Nor was he made chiefly to minister to the wants of the 
community. A rational moral being cannot, without 
infinite wrong, be converted into a mere instrument of 
others’ gratification. He is necessarily an end, not a 
means. A mind, in which are sown the seeds of wis¬ 
dom, disinterestedness, firmness of purpose and piety, 
is worth more than all the outward material interests 
of a world. It exists for itself, for its own perfection, 
and must not be enslaved to its own or others’ animal 
wants. You tell me, that a liberal culture is needed 
for men who are to fill high stations, but not for such 
as are doomed to vulgar labor. I answer, that man is 
a greater name than president or king. Truth and 
goodness are equally precious, in whatever sphere they 
are found. Besides, men of all conditions sustain 
equally the relations, which give birth to the highest 
virtues and demand the highest powers. The laborer 
is not a mere laborer. He has close, tender, responsible 
connections with God and his fellow-creatures. He is 
a son, husband, father, friend and Christian. He be¬ 
longs to a home, a country, a church, a race; and is 
such a man to be cultivated only for a trade? Was he 
not sent into the world for a great work? To educate 
a child perfectly, requires profounder thought, greater 
wisdom than to govern a state; and for this plain reason, 
that the interests and wants of the latter are more su¬ 
perficial, coarser and more obvious, than the spiritual 
capacities, the growth of thought and feeling, and the 
subtle laws of the mind, which must all be studied and 
comprehended, before the work of education can be 
thoroughly performed; and yet to all conditions this 
greatest work on earth is equally committed by God. 
What plainer proof do we need that a higher culture, 
than has yet been dreamt of, is needed by our whole 
race. 
II. I now proceed to inquire into the means by which 
the self-culture just described, may be promoted; and 
here I know not where to begin. The subject is so ex¬ 
tensive, as well as important^ that I feel myself unable 
to do any justice to it, especially in the limits to which 
I am confined. I beg you to consider me as presenting 
but hints, and such as have offered themselves with ve¬ 
ry little research to my own mind. 
And, first, the great means of self-culture, that which 
includes all the rest, is to fasten on this culture as our 
great end, to determine deliberately and solemnly, that 
wewillmake the most and the best of the powers which 
God has given us. Without this resolute purpose, the 
best means are worth little, and with it the poorest be¬ 
come mighty. You may see thousands, with every op¬ 
portunity of improvement which wealth can gather, 
with teachers, libraries and apparatus, bringing nothing 
to pass, and others, with few helps,doing wonders; and 
simply because the latter are in earnest, and the former 
not. A man in earnest finds means, or, if he cannot find 
creates them. .A vigorous purpose makes much out of 
little, breathes power into weak instruments, disarms 
difficulties, and even turns them into assistances. Every 
condition has means of progress, if we have spirit 
enough to use them. Some volumes have recently been 
published, giving examples or histories of “ knowledge 
acquired under difficulties;” and it is most animating to 
see in these, what a reso’ute man can do for himself.— 
A gieat idea, like this ot self culture, if seized on clear¬ 
ly and vigorously, burns like a living coal in the soul. 
He who deliberately adopts a great end, has, by this 
act, half accomplished it, has scaled the chief barrier to 
success-. 
