The Sun.
London, England, 1863-09-18 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, FRIDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER 18, 1861

Cardinal Wiseman on Self-Culture.

SOUTHAMPTON, Thursday.

The great hall of the Hartley Institution was last
night densely crowded, Cardinal Wiseman having
undertaken to inaugurate the 34th session of the
jest
Polytechnico f selself-culture.
lon i
rb.y an
J. R.
dsdterbesbsinogn,
the t hep
rseub
si
dent of the institution, occupied the chair, and in a
brief address introduced his Eminence, who was re-
ceived with great cordiality.
Cardinal WISEMAN, when the cheering had sub-
sided, commenced his address, the deli very of which
occupied upwards of two hours, during the whole
of which time he was listened to with the greatest
attention. He said he had selected the subject of
self-culture as one perfectly in unison with the object
for which the institution was founded,—to enable
those who joined such a noble foundation to ac
quire learning for themselves, to form their own
minds, and to improve those faculties which they
individually possessed. The tendency and aim of
his address would bo not to excite ambition or the
aim at distinction, not to stimulate extraordinary
energies to induce man whom Providence had
placed in a huMble sphere of life to make their way
from it, and rise higher and higher, perhaps with
a fruitless aim constantly held before them. He
was not about to show how individuals had risen
from even the lowest ranks of society by industry,
honesty, and self-reliance to the very highest dig-
nit:es. That was not his aim, for this reason—there
was not one in ten thousand who could possibly
succeed in so high a mark ; and for one who did
succeed there were hundreds and thousands whose
ambition had been over-excited, and whose hearts
had been broken in early youth in attempting to
arrive at that for which they were never destined,
and there were others who had consumed a
long age in murmuring impatience and discon-
tented with themselves and others because they
thought they had been dealt with unjustly by
society in not having achieved their mistaken ob-
ject. No; he wished to make everyone feel that it
was in his power to make such a position in society
as would make him honoured, respected, revered
by all around him, and respected by himseif—to
show how a man may work through a long life
without being raised a step in that social position
in which his lot is cast, and yet hold up his head
among the noblest and the best, not in supercilious
pride, not in overbearing ambition, but in the con-
sciousness that his heart has also been true to its
duties, that bis conduct has been unblemished—so
so that he might walk with his head erect, except
in those moments when it must be bowed down
before that higher and better power which has
given him those gifts which he has assiduously
cultivated. He felt it due to himself to say—and
ho was sure all present would agree with him—
that if he excluded from his address those sub-
limer aims, those nobler motives, those stronger
incentives to righteousness and to virtue which
ought to influence man in his whole career, it was
not because he undervalued them, or that he wished
by silence to exclude them. The meeting was a
scientific and social meeting, and while he reserved
to himself the fulness of his own convictions, and
his sense of the propriety of such thoughts being
before all men, he was sure he should be excused
for making what might be crnsidered a moral and
perhaps a worldly discourse. He had spoken of self-
culture being the object of such institutions as the
present. It was, in fact, the essence of all educa-
tion. Education supposed to be given to a passive and
unresisting object by any amount of external pres-
sure that might be applied to it was a mere folly.
A certain amount of information might be poured
into the ears and understanding of a man, but he
was not thereby educated.

ASSISTING NATURE.

No one believed that the art of healing
consisted in the application of mere external
remedies. The art of °curing recognised the
healing in the vital power. It existed in the
constitution, in the frame, and the object of
medicine was to bring forth those latent curative
powers of nature which had to act in a given way.
Although outward appliances might assist indi-
rectly, the main object was to stimulate and assist
those latent powers given by nature, and the cure,
so to speak, wisely aided and seconded, was in our-
selves. And so, with respect to the mind, lectures,
and converseziones, and libraries and museums were
all ends to education. But the true, the real edu-
cation was that which was performed within, and
which none but the individual himself could perform
for himself. Self-culture might be divided into three
distinct ranges
teolrlescpthuearlesPowers ; secondly, to the
and had to be applied—
first,power of acquisition—the power of aggregating
what is without to our own minds ; and thirdly, to
the cultivation of the moral powers. These three
powers were distinct. The first—cultivation of the
intellectual powers—had little or no aid from with-
out. That was a work from within. Each man
must cultivate his own intellect, his power of judg-
ment, his power of acting through the operation on
the operations of his own mind. The second—the
power of acquisition—was of a mixed character. It
was the power of bringing into our minds and under
the judgment of the intellect that which was pre-
pared by others, and which we did rot ourselves
make, and which was not within us. It was mixed;
there was the double operation, the acting upon ma-
terials which we had not naturally within our reach
through the means of the faculties within us. The
third power, again, was of a mixed character—that
moral portion of our being which, while it has
to be culti%ated also within, yet has its action
without, because from that comp forth duties and
obligations which reach those that are without our-
selves ; so that one is purely inward, the second
is partly exterior through its objects ; the third
is partly exterior through its aims. Beginning
with the intellectual powers, they were subject to
a triple subdivision.

THOT;GHT-TMAGINATION-MEMORY.

'I here was, first, the power of thought,
and what immediately depended upon it ; and
then came the imagination and the memory.
Upon the two latter points his remarks would
be very short, because the principles which he
was about to lay down were embodied in
the first point, on which he wished fully
to open his mind. He did not intend to go into
any metaphysical definitions or explanations of the
power of thought, believing that he could make his
meaning more clear by comparison and by illustra-
tion. He would take the sense of sight as the one
parallel to thought in the mind, and trace its opera-
tion.

A BEAIiTIFUL COMPARISON.

The eye was tie;ersatiated,never satisfied
with seeing. Whatever the multiplicity of objects,
they held no place, but were continually changing
If we walked into the country alone by a pleasant'
path there was not an instant in which we did not
see something—the trees, the cottages, the distant
mountains—as we moved the head and inclined it in
a different angle, as we moved the pupil of the eye,
every possible change took place in our bodily
relation to the outward objects presented to the
vision, and yet all these objects were connected,
and there was not a moment without some picture
being presented to the eye. Exactly so with
thought. We were never a moment without think-
ing. Even while reading a book there was a train of
thought passing through the mind over which it ex-
ercised no control. One thought succeeded another,
more linked, more united by the power of association
than the objects that metthe eye. That corresponded
exactly to the action of the eye. It would be exceed.
ingly difficult to render an account of the thoughts
passing through the mind during the day. But
there was another power—the power of arresting
thought, and there commenced the self-,

necessary for self-culture. A -
whole day never dish-
.—anmand
jest with _ ...an' might pass a
ciistinguishing acy ob-
• eye; but by exercising a ca tain

degree of mental power he might stop and examine
some object and fix it upon his memory. With re-
spect to the eye, that would be observation; to the
mind,• it would be reflection. When thoughts
were passing through a man's mind, be might
consider some one of them rather singular
and reflect upon it, and thus arrest the
current of thought, and fix upon something
distant which would occupy his mind in future
years, and lead to something useful and practical.
That was the second step. But there was a third,
and a higher, and more important one. A man
might not be satisfied with a passing view of an
object, but desire to know something more about it.

OBSERVATION AND CONTEMPLATION.

For instance, in looking for the first time at the ruins
rt Netley Abbey he saw all that could be seen in
passing by. That was observation. It occurred to his
mind that if ever he passed that way again he would
make an examination into its architecture, and try
to make out its history, having previously gathered
such information as he might be able to do from books
treating on the subject. That would be a very dif-
ferent degree of observation from either of the first,
and might be called contemplation. Thst would be
seeing in the highest sense. Exactly the same thing
took place with regard to the mind. A man might
say, "I wish to cultivate my powers of thought.
I am not satisfied with dwelling for a few minutes
on a thought which invites my attention; here is a
great question on which a thoughtful and earnest
man cannot remain satisfied in ignorance and I will
study it." For this purpose he would collect the
necessary materials and exercise the varied powers
of his mind and memory and reasoning, until he
came to a solemn and well-matured decision how
he ought to think and act. That was the course of
thought, the operation of the mind corresponding
exactly with the third operation of the sense of
sight, and this analogy brought forward all the pro.
ceases of which thought was capable. The first and
simplest power of thought meant little or no self-
cultnre, except by the application of those degrees
of it which followed.

DAY-DREAIIIING.

There was nothing more dangerous than the
habit which the indulgence in the first pro-
cess of thought, unchecked and unguided,
might produce. A person left to the mere suc-
cession of day-dreams, thought succeeding
thought, with curious connexion, but without men-
tal analysis, would lose hours and hours of his time
in mere vain, vague, roving ideas, which instead of
fructifying in his heart would rot there and corrupt
it. An illustration of this unchecked progress of
thought might be found in the story of the merchant
of Bagdad, whose dreams ended in the destruction
of his precious porcelain. There were men who, not
gaining the power of constraining their thoughts
and arresting them at the proper time, had been led
into
ot heday-dreawmhaotf theye ought
verythi.6g excepting their
duty, neglecting
to have done, and
consequently coming to misery and ruin. The first
lesson, therefore, to be learnt in mental culture was
to gain the power over the ordinary course of thought
by applying what he had termed reflection—the
arresting and checking out of the procession of
thoughts those not worthy to be dwelt upon, and
checking them immediately.

THE GERM OF MONOMANIA.

He wished especially to impress on those
who cared for the cultivation of their
own minds the necessity of making use of this pro-
cess, which might be described as the second pro-
cess of thought. It was necessary at once to check
anything that was luxuriant, that did not tend to
produce fruit, that tended as it almost always did
to some amount of eccentricity. The moment a fa-
vourite thought began to haunt the mind, when it
returned again and again with new vigour, and the
mind took a pleasure in dwelling upon it, it shou d
be checked without a moment's hesitation and cut
away ; and a man having acquired a control over
his thoughts, over his mind, would at once deter-
mine that the idea should not dwell in his mind.
Otherwise it might be the beginning of a thousand
roonomanias. Indulgence in such ideas was the
way in which they became fixed in the mind.
They returned again and again. He was not
speaking of moral Consequences, but of intel-
lectual consequences. There was not a more
serious impediment to self-culture than that of
allowing a dominant thought to assume a propor-
tion to the rest of the faculties which was not in
proportion with its own value. Of this there was
no question, and he might lay it down as a certai❑
intellectual result, and say never allow what might
be considered a favourite idea, or fancy, or imagin-
ing, to dwell for any length of time in the mind.

THE SEED OF INSANITY.

It had been said, and he believed with truth, that
there was hardly a mind so strong as not to hate
within it the possible seed of insanity, and that seed
might be found in this form—a single idea, without
any reason to account for its taking possession of the
mind, might go on developing until it became a
sort of morbid feeling, resulting in the manner
which he had indicated. There was a third and
greater applicatio❑ of the mental power. It con-
sisted in not merely being able to arrest
thought, to dwell upon it, but in being able to
study the principles and eat nest thoughts which
were within the mind—being able to have the power
of directing all the energies of the mind to their
so'.ution and explanation, and so to treasure up
within ourselves the principle drawn from sound
and solid reflection.

sPEAK ONLY 'WHAT YOU THINK AND BELIEVE.
He would not go -2.nto detail, but the ap-
plication was this. There was nothing more
common than for persons to like to dispute_
to discuss a subject, to provoke by the earnestness
with which they pursue a paradox and answered
every objection and difficulty raised against them,
and then bay it is all a joke—it was done by way of
trying my skill against yours. A man ought never
to take a pax t which he did not believe. Inward truth-
fuluess was as necessary to the formation of a sound
moral character as was exterior truthfulness. He
never maintain a
would say, thing that you do not
believe—never disputa a principle for disputa-
tion's sake—never consider it a mere recreation
to be warring on the side of falsehood,
et- immorality, or anything that is wrong. Heknew
one instance in which the fondness for disputation
and discussion had led to the person who did not
believe in his cause bringing the other over and
converting him to a falsehcod. Such a course of
proceeding was a serious moral offmce. The mind
ought in everything to be accustomed to form a just
judgment. If it became accustomed to loose ideas
of truth and falsehood, what would be the result
when it had to pronounce a stern judgment on it-
sAf, to overcome temptation, and when everything
depended upon that uprightness of mind which wes
able, from long practice and constant training, on
no occasion to swerve by a hairsbreadth
on one side or the other ? That the training of
the mind must be by the individual was self•evi-
dent. No two persons thought and felt alike,

THE ELM AND Tilt vricc.
He would illustrate his meaning by refer-
ring to a weal-known fact, although it might be re-
garded as rather commonplace. Prom the earliest
ages poets and agriculturists had considered two
trees as intimately united to,gether•—the elm and the
vine; and those who had visited the beautiful plains
and valleys of Italy must have been struck by the
loving group and their verdure and fruitfulness.
The elm grass- up a stately tree. The vine crept no
by its side, a miserable sapling, Without vigour or
strength, unable to sustain itself. The one tree lent
strength, the other gave beauty. They were
together, theirrootswere -
beneath the sn;'

r v~LL

_,.cu almost insc parably

cney lived upon the same food,they
-...:used up nourishment from tho Lia.L.c ground, they
drank the same de; Lnd the same rzacs from hea-
ven. And yet no skill, no power could make
them
the same. The husbandman might trim and prune
B`re'd enrich the soil as much as he pileued,ho would

never bring a single grape out of the elm, and never
form a self-sustaining stock for the vine. They re-
ceived the same nourishment, but they created what
was given to them into a different substance. And
so, two daughters growing up together, two sons
going to the same college on the same day, would be
as different as possible from each other, and no power
of exterior culture would make them the same. The
aim ought to be not to make them exactly alike, but
to make them both useful and good.

HIS EMINENCE then proceeded to the con-
sideration of imagination and memory. Imagi-
nation consisted in the faculty of receiving
pictures in the mind—receiving them from
without or even creating them within, although
that created within would generally be found re
ferable to something from without. Thought and
language corresponded with one another. Imagi-
nation corresponded with painting—the mind saw
the whole picture before it, But no two people
imagined i❑ the same way or had objects impressed
upon them in the same way. Imagination had the
power of producing pictures in the mind, but in
every instance at a different angle, so that each con-
templated it at a different point. Speaking practi-
cally, there were two forms of imagination, each of
which ought to be watched over and corrected; the
one was excess, the other was deficiency. The ex-
cess came very much from the mind running away
with the reflective power, and strength was required
to pull it back. As to deficiency, unless a person
was called upon to use his imagination for useful
purposes, it did not matter much whether his ima-
gination was weak or strong. Imagination might
be cultivated by the contemplation of nature, by
the contemplation of art, and by reading that which
wa's sound and good.

THE CARDINAL'S TRIBUTE TO ENGLISH POETRY.

Take poetry, for instance. No country possessed
such an unbroken series of good poets, from
Shakspeare to Tennyson, as England, and the
character of that class of literature was most
wholesome. But he should not recommend the
cultivation of the imagination by the reading of
novels, many of which were founded on false sen-
timents and had an immoral tendency. With re-
spect to memory, this was a power which varied
more than any other in different people; but it
could be cultivated successfully with respect to
things which we ought to remember and desired to
remember. It might be encouraged and strengthened
by reflection, by dwelling upon events and occur-
rences which were worth knowing, and mastering
them, and treasuring them up in our thoughts, and
by securing principles and attaching facts to the
memory, not caring too much for mere details,
which might easily be obtained. While trying to
cultivate scientific, historical, and artistic tastes,
there were other courses which would bring more
help to self-culture than any of these. Biographies
and narratives of travels acted better upon self-
culture of the mind than any other class of works.
His Eminence next adverted to the manner of em-
ploying our powers to the acquisition of learning
from without, observing that the first thing to
study was the bent of the mind, and then to
ascertain its peculiar methods.

PURITY OF THOUGHT.

A person growing up ought to train his
mind so that he should not fall icto any-
thing intellectually immoral. He would lay
it down as a fundamental principle that
every thought partook in guilt of the nature of the
action to which it naturally led or tended, and
therefore if the ultimate end of anything in the
mind would be wrong morally, wrong in action,
that thought so immoral must be pursued with
greater vigour and animosity than any thong-et
that was loose and foolish, and ought to he at once
eradicated. The greatest crimes were often com-
mitted in two diCerent ways. The first was em-
bodied in the little proverb, " Opportunity makes
the thief." A man might have been strictly honest
until the opportunity of committing a crime pre-
sented itself to his mind. As an illustration of
this he might mention a case which occurred in
London some years ago, when a most respectable
lady and gentleman were murdered in the night.
The clue was sn simple that the perpetrator of the
murder was instantly arrested. He had stolen
nothing, and had been on the best possible terms
with his master and mistress. Before his execution
he stated how the murder had been committed.
He said, " As I was cleaning the plate in the pantry,
knowing there was a staircase that led directly to
the master's room, the idea suddenly flashed through
my mind how easy it would be to assassinate them,
and I went upstairs and committed the crime."
There was the opportunity, and there was not
the power of moral control. Another way which
led to the commission of crime was allowing a
thought to grow for years and years, until it ripened
into a monomania, when it might have been checked
by resistance in the first instance.

CLOSING REMARKS.

In conclusion, His EMINENCE observed that
the result of all this training of the
intellect was the formation of character. A
man ought not to be too solicitous about the forma-
tion of character. He could not form it. Character
must grow. It must be the result of many circum-
stances. If there was one thing of which men were
more ambitious than another it was what was com-
monly called " character"—" He is a man of charac •
ter." Now, what did that mean ? A man of firmness,
a man of determination, a man who would carry
through his projects—that was a character the most
envied. But experience had taught the truth—that
the firmness of small minds was obstinacy, while
the firmness of great minds was perseverance in the
midst of difficulties, resembling the course taken by
the water springing from a fountain high up in the
Alps, which after overcoming every obstacle becomes
a great river, and eventually finds its way into the
mighty ocean.
At the conclusion of the address a cordial vote of
thanks was given to his EMINENCE, who in acknow-
ledging the compliment said he should be happy
at all times to render his assistance in promoting
the interests of the institution.

The French Consul at Pernambuco has sent to
the Socie!e d'Acelimatation, a number of animals,
among which are a royal vulture, a guaras, or flamingo,
two Brazilian golden pheasants, an electric fish or torpedo,
and two large aras (birds of the parrot tribe), male and
female. One of the latter was last year the unconscious
cause of a useful discovery. Having one day thought pro-
per to pick off the inflammable matter from a quantity of
lucifer matches, it was soon seized with violent convulsions.
The Consul, its master, guessing the cause, forced a spoon-
ful of mixture of water and arnica, or leopard's bane, down
its throat. As this remedy seemed to produce a good effect,
it was repeated for several days, and so conscious was the
bird of its beneficent effects, that it at length used to come
and ask for it of its own accord. At the end of a week it
was perfectly cured. The Jardin d'Acclimitation has also
received a Chinese rose-tree, the flowers of which change
their colour three times a-day.
FAST LIVING.—The present age lives only for
the minute. Railway guards and omnibus conduc4
tors have not the sole monopoly of the expression "Hurry
up." The poor little baby of 1863 is made to recognise it,
and allowed short time for growing aild learning. It is to be
taught precocious habits of personal cleanliness, at what
cost soever to its health, lest some trouble be else incurred
by the lazy nurse. Young girls must shorten the excellent
ru
es ha
tai nu In m,nai nglil iaa-
kmei neiaartluyr,e belles,thos
f oarnii.i
ti marry
period of doil-i).!tyins to becomlie
using p7ifetheteeidr eiod
gegrraldytlalYst'euandyg vbigousr,matinCit
allv i act. aeN''d. 7: cut to
ness. i'oung ladies mint go tluoub..
hop-skip-and-a-jump celerity which is 52e in
ensure superficiality. Everything must be abbr,
short, and curtailed. Nobody has any time for anytiLV;
and so prematurely old age comes cn ; and, lookicg with
weary eyes over the back-track of time, its travellers see
many a quiet shady spot where they wish they had stopped
to rest, instead of galloping at break-neck speed along life's
dusty bighway.--- Fanny Fern.
The flowers in Covent-garden surpass these of every other
country, for the reason t.hatFervoemrytihmeprsoovmeemeonahtsienitiheerirriocugl-6
ture is instently adopted
m: 0-netio brushes and comb.s.surpass every other
,meaus for
re"storing grey hair to its original colour, and eating the most
idnov
thiset e r a:itchll The
neuralgiaatmangdoentetamrvotuys.hesa.doae e:ouhtery.
London.
'saelsmoors t u i
teits are being ratde. 02.001 32: Daaiagtaa-street,