The conversation of two men bred at the same school or college, when
they happen to meet afterward, is commonly uninteresting, not to say
tiresome, to a third person, as involving local circumstances in which
he has no concern. But this was not always the case since the meeting of
my two friends. Something was generally to be gained by their
communications even on these unpromising topics.
At breakfast Mr. Stanley said, "Sir John, you will see here at dinner
to-morrow our old college acquaintance, Ned Tyrrel. Though he does not
commonly live at the family house in this neighborhood, but at a little
place he has in Buckinghamshire, he comes among us periodically to
receive his rents. He always invites himself, for his society is not the
most engaging."
"I heard," replied Sir John, "that he became a notorious profligate
after he left Cambridge, though I have lost sight of him ever since we
parted there. But I was glad to learn lately that he is become quite a
reformed man."
"He is so far reformed," replied Mr. Stanley, "that he is no longer
grossly licentious. But in laying down the vices of youth, he has taken
up successively those which he thought better suited to the successive
stages of his progress. As he withdrew himself from his loose habits and
connections, ambition became his governing passion; he courted public
favor, thirsted for place and distinction, and labored by certain
obliquities, and some little sacrifices of principle, to obtain
promotion. Finding it did not answer, and all his hopes failing, he now
rails at ambition, wonders men will wound their consciences and renounce
their peace for vain applause and 'the bubble reputation.' His sole
delight at present, I hear, is in amassing money and reading
controversial divinity. Avarice has supplanted ambition, just as
ambition expelled profligacy.
"In the interval in which he was passing from one of these stages to the
other, in a very uneasy state of mind he dropped in by accident where a
famous irregular preacher was disseminating his Antinomian doctrines.
Caught by his vehement but coarse eloquence, and captivated by an
alluring doctrine which promised much while it required little, he
adopted the soothing but fallacious tenet. It is true, I hear he is
become a more respectable man in his conduct, but I doubt, though I have
not lately seen him, if his present state may not be rather worse than
his former ones.
"In the two previous stages, he was disturbed and dissatisfied. Here he
has taken up his rest. Out of this stronghold, it is not probable that
any subsequent vice will ever drive him, or true religion draw him. He
sometimes attends public worship, but as he thinks no part of it but the
sermon of much value, it is only when he likes the preacher. He has
little notion of the respect due to established institutions, and does
not heartily like any precomposed form of prayer, not even our
incomparable Liturgy. He reads such religious books only as tend to
establish his own opinions, and talks and disputes loudly on certain
doctrinal points. But an accumulating Christian, and a Christian who,
for the purpose of accumulation, is said to be uncharitable, and even
somewhat oppressive, is a paradox which I can not solve, and an anomaly
which I can not comprehend. Covetousness is, as I said, a more
creditable vice than Ned's former ones, but for that very reason more
dangerous."
"From this sober vice," said I, "proceeded the blackest crime ever
perpetrated by human wickedness; for it does not appear that Judas, in
his direful treason, was instigated by malice. It is observable, that
when our Saviour names this sin, it is with an emphatical warning, as
knowing its mischief to be greater because its scandal was less. Not
contented with a single caution, he doubles his exhortation. '_Take heed
and beware_ of covetousness.'"
After some remarks of Sir John, which I do not recollect, Mr. Stanley
said, "I did not intend making a philippic against covetousness, a sin
to which I believe no one here is addicted. Let us not, however, plume
ourselves in not being guilty of a vice to which, as we have no natural
bias so in not committing it, we resist no temptation. What I meant to
insist on was, that exchanging a turbulent for a quiet sin, or a
scandalous for an orderly one, is not reformation; or, if you will allow
me the strong word, is not conversion."
Mr. Tyrrel, according to his appointment, came to dinner, and brought
with him his nephew, Mr. Edward Tyrrel, whom he had lately entered at
the university, with a design to prepare him for holy orders. He was a
well-disposed young man, but his previous education was said to have
been very much neglected, and was rather deficient in the necessary
learning. Mr. Stanley had heard that Tyrrel had two reasons for breeding
him to the church. In the first place, he fancied it was the cheapest
profession, and in the next he had labored to infuse into him some
particular opinions of his own, which he wished to disseminate through
his nephew. Sir George Aston having accidentally called, he was
prevailed on to stay, and Dr. Barlow was one of the party.
Mr. Tyrrel, by his observations, soon enabled us to discover that his
religion had altered nothing but his language. He seemed evidently more
fond of controversy than of truth, and the whole turn of his
conversation indicated that he derived his religious security rather
from the adoption of a party, than from the implantation of a new
principle. "His discourse is altered," said Mr. Stanley to me
afterward, "but I greatly fear his heart and affections remain
unchanged."
Mr. Stanley contrived, for the sake of his two academical guests,
particularly young Tyrrel, to divert the conversation to the subject of
learning, more especially clerical learning.
In answer to a remark of mine on the satisfaction I had felt in seeing
such a happy union of learning and piety in two clergymen who had lately
dined at the Grove, Mr. Stanley said, "Literature is an excellent thing,
when it is not the best thing a man has. It can surely be no offense to
our Maker to cultivate carefully his highest natural gift, our reason.
In pious men it is peculiarly important, as the neglect of such
cultivation, in certain individuals, has led to much error in religion,
and given much just offense to the irreligious, who are very
sharp-sighted to the faults of pious characters. I therefore truly
rejoice to see a higher tone of literature now prevailing, especially in
so many of our pious young divines; the deficiency of learning in some
of their well-meaning predecessors having served to bring not only
themselves, but religion also, into contempt, especially with men who
have only learning."
"I say nothing," remarked Mr. Tyrrel, "against the necessity of learning
in a lawyer, because it may help him to lead a judge, and to mislead a
jury; nor in a physician, because it may advance his credit by enabling
him to conceal the deficiencies of his art; nor in a private gentleman,
because it may keep him out of worse mischief. But I see no use of
learning in the clergy. There is my friend Dr. Barlow. I would willingly
give up all his learning, if he would go a little deeper into the
doctrines he professes to preach."
"Indeed," said Mr. Stanley, "I should think Dr. Barlow's various
knowledge of little value, did he exhibit the smallest deficiency in the
great points to which you allude. But when I am persuaded that his
learning is so far from detracting from his piety that it enables him
to render it more extensively useful, I can not wish him dispossessed of
that knowledge which adorns his religion without diminishing its good
effects."
"You will allow," said Mr. Tyrrel, "that those first great publishers of
Christianity, the Apostles, had none of this vain learning."
"I admit," said Mr. Stanley, "that it is frequently pleaded by the
despisers of learning, that the Apostles were illiterate. The fact is
too notorious, and the answer too obvious to require to be dwelt upon.
But it is unfortunately adduced to illustrate a position to which it can
never apply, the vindication of an unlettered clergy. It is a hackneyed
remark, but not the less true for being old, that the wisdom of God
chose to accomplish the first promulgation of the gospel by illiterate
men, to prove that the work was his own, and that its success depended
not on the instruments employed, but on the divinity of the truth
itself. But if the Almighty chose to establish his religion by miracles,
he chooses to carry it on by means. And he no more sends an ignorant
peasant or fisherman to instruct men in Christianity now, than he
appointed a Socrates or a Plato to be its publisher at first. As,
however, there is a great difference in the situations, so there may be
a proportionate difference allowed in the attainments of the clergy. I
do not say it is necessary for every village curate to be a profound
scholar, but as he may not always remain in obscurity, there is no
necessity for his being a contemptible one."
Sir John remarked, that what has been said of those who affect to
despise birth, has been applied also to those who decry learning;
neither is ever undervalued except by men who are destitute of them; and
it is worthy of observation, that as literature and religion both sunk
in the dark ages, so both emerged at the same auspicious era.
Mr. Stanley finding that Dr. Barlow was not forward to embark in a
subject which he considered as rather personal, said, "It is
presumptuous to observe, that the Apostles were unlettered men, yet
those instruments who were to be employed in services singularly
difficult, the Almighty condescended partly to fit for their peculiar
work by great human attainments. The Apostle of the Gentiles was brought
up at the feet of Gamaliel; and Moses, who was destined to the high
office of a great legislator, was instructed in all the wisdom of the
most learned nation then existing. The Jewish law-giver, though under
the guidance of inspiration itself, did not fill his station the worse
for this preparatory instruction. To how important a use the Apostle
converted _his_ erudition, we may infer from his conduct in the most
learned and polished assembly in the world. He did not unnecessarily
exasperate the polite Athenians, by coarse upbraiding, or illiterate
clamor, but he attacked them on their own ground. With what
discriminating wisdom, with what powerful reasoning did he unfold to
them that God whom they ignorantly worshiped! With what temper, with
what elegance, did he expose their shallow theology! Had he been as
unacquainted with _their_ religion, as they were with _his_, he had
wanted the appropriate ground on which to build his instruction. He
seized on the inscription of their own pagan altar, as a text from which
to preach the doctrine of Christianity. From his knowledge of their
errors, he was enabled to advance the cause of truth. He made their
poetry, which he quoted, and their mythology which he would not have
been able to explode, if he had not understood it, a thesis from which
to deduce the doctrine of the Resurrection; thus softening their
prejudices, and letting them see the infinite superiority of that
Christianity which he enforced, to the mere learning and mental
cultivation on which they so highly valued themselves. By the same
sober discretion, acute reasoning, and graceful elegance, he afterward
obtained a patient hearing, and a favorable judgment from King Agrippa."
"It has always appeared to me," returned Dr. Barlow, "that a strong
reason why the younger part of a clergyman's life should be in a good
measure devoted to learning is, that he may afterward discover its
comparative vanity. It would have been a less difficult sacrifice for
St. Paul to profess that he renounced all things for religion, if he had
had nothing to renounce; and to count all things as dross in the
comparison, if he had had no gold to put in the empty scale. Gregory
Nazianzen, one of the most accomplished masters of Greek literature,
declared that the chief value which he set upon it was, that in
possessing it, he had something of worth to esteem as nothing in
comparison of Christian truth. And it is delightful to hear Selden and
Grotius, and Pascal and Salmasius, whom I may be allowed to quote,
without being suspected of professional prejudice, as none of them were
clergymen, while they warmly recommended to others that learning of
which they themselves were the most astonishing examples, at the same
time dedicating their lives to the advancement of religion. It is
delightful, I say, to hear them acknowledge that their learning was only
valuable as it put it in their power to promote Christianity, and to
have something to sacrifice for its sake."
"I can willingly allow," said Mr. Tyrrel, "that a poet, a dramatic poet
especially, may study the works of the great critics of antiquity with
some profit; but that a Christian writer of sermons can have any just
ground for studying a pagan critic, it is to me quite inconceivable."
"And yet, sir," replied Mr. Stanley, "a sermon is a work which demands
regularity of plan, as well as a poem. It requires, too, something of
the same unity, arrangement, divisions, and lucid order as a tragedy;
something of the exordium and the peroration which belong to the
composition of the orator. I do not mean that he is constantly to
exhibit all this, but he should always understand it. And a discreet
clergyman, especially one who is to preach before auditors of the higher
rank, and who, in order to obtain respect from them, wishes to excel in
the art of composition, will scarcely be less attentive to form his
judgment by some acquaintance with Longinus and Quintilian than a
dramatic poet. A writer of verse, it is true, may please to a certain
degree by the force of mere genius, and a writer of sermons will
instruct by the mere power of his piety; but neither the one nor the
other will ever write well, if they do not possess the principles of
good writing, and form themselves on the models of good writers."
"Writing," said Sir John, "to a certain degree is an art, or, if you
please, a trade. And as no man is allowed to set up in an ordinary trade
till he has served a long apprenticeship to its _mysteries_ (the word, I
think, used in indentures), so no man should set up for a writer till he
knows somewhat of the mysteries of the art he is about to practice. He
may, after all, if he want talents, produce a vapid and inefficient
book; but possess what talents he may, he will, without knowledge,
produce a crude and indigested one."
Mr. Tyrrel, however, still insisted upon it, that in a Christian
minister the lustre of learning is tinsel, and human wisdom folly.
"I am entirely of your opinion," returned Mr. Stanley, "if he rest in
his learning as an _end_ instead of using it as a _means_; if the fame,
or the pleasure, or even the human profit of learning be his ultimate
object. Learning in a clergyman without religion is dross, is nothing;
not so religion without learning. I am persuaded that much good is done
by men who, though deficient in this respect, are abundant in zeal and
piety; but the good they do arises from the exertion of their piety, and
not from the deficiency of their learning. Their labors are beneficial
from the talent they exercise, and not from their want of another
talent. The Spirit of God can work, and often does work, by feeble
instruments, and divine truth by its own omnipotent energy can effect
its own purposes. But particular instances do not go to prove that the
instrument ought not to be fitted, and polished, and sharpened for its
allotted work. Every student should be emulously watchful that he do not
diminish the stock of professional credit by his idleness; he should be
stimulated to individual exertion by bearing in mind that the English
clergy have always been allowed by foreigners to be the most learned
body in the world."
Dr. Barlow was of opinion that what Mr. Stanley had said of the value of
knowledge, did not at all militate against such fundamental prime truths
as--"This is life eternal to _know_ God and Jesus Christ whom he has
sent. I desire to _know_ nothing, save Jesus Christ. The natural man can
not _know_ the things of the Spirit of God. The world by wisdom _knew_
not God;" and a hundred other such passages.
"Ay, Doctor," said Mr. Tyrrel, "now you talk a little more like a
Christian minister. But from the greater part of what has been asserted,
you are all of you such advocates for human reason and human learning as
to give an air of paganism to your sentiments."
"Surely," said Mr. Stanley, "it does not diminish the utility, though it
abases the pride of learning, that Christianity did not come into the
world by human discovery, or the disquisitions of reason, but by
immediate revelation. Those who adopt your way of thinking, Mr. Tyrrel,
should bear in mind that the work of God, in changing the heart, is not
intended to supply the place of the human faculties. God expects, in
his most highly favored servants, the diligent exercise of their natural
powers; and if any human being has a stronger call for the exercise of
wisdom and judgment than another, it is a religious clergyman.
Christianity does not supersede the use of natural gifts, but turns them
into their proper channel.
"One distinction has often struck me. The enemy of mankind seizes on the
soul through the medium of the passions and senses: the divine friend of
man addresses him through his rational powers--_the eyes of your
understanding being enlightened_, says the Apostle."
Here I ventured to observe, that the highest panegyric bestowed on one
of the brightest luminaries of our church is, that his name is seldom
mentioned without the epithet _judicious_ being prefixed to it. Yet does
Hooker want fervor? Does Hooker want zeal? Does Hooker want courage in
declaring the whole counsel of God?
"I hope," said Sir John, "we have now no clergymen to whom we may apply
the biting sarcasm of Dr. South on some of the popular but illiterate
preachers of the opposite party in his day, 'that there was all the
confusion of Babel without the gift of tongues.'"
"And yet," returned Mr. Stanley, "that party produced some great
scholars, and many eminently pious men. But look back to that day, and
especially to the period a little antecedent to it, at those prodigies
of erudition, the old bishops and other divines of our church. They
were, perhaps, somewhat too profuse of their learning in their
discourses, or rather they were so brimful, that they involuntarily
overflowed. A juster taste, in our time, avoids that lavish display
which then not only crowded the margin, but forced itself into every
part of the body of the work. The display of erudition might be wrong,
but one thing is clear, it proved they had it; and, as Dryden said, when
he accused of having too much wit, 'after all, it is a good crime.'"
"We may justly," said Dr. Barlow, "in the refinement of modern taste,
censure their prolixity, and ridicule their redundancies; we may smile
at their divisions, which are numberless, and at their subdivisions,
which are endless; we may allow that this labor for perspicuity
sometimes produced perplexity. But let us confess they always went to
the bottom of whatever they embarked in. They ransacked the stores of
ancient learning, and the treasures of modern science, not to indulge
their vanity by obtruding their acquirements, but to prove, to adorn,
and to illustrate the doctrine they delivered. How incredible must their
industry have been, when the bare transcript of their voluminous folios
seems alone sufficient to have occupied a long life?"
"The method," said I, "which they adopted, of saying every thing that
could be said on all topics, and exhausting them to the very dregs,
though it may and does tire the patience of the reader, yet it never
leaves him ignorant; and of two evils, had not an author better be
tedious than superficial? From an overflowing vessel you may gather more
indeed than you want, but from an empty one you can gather nothing."
"It appears to me," said Mr. Tyrrel, "that you wish to make a clergyman
every thing but a Christian, and to bestow upon him every requisite
except faith."
"God forbid that I should make any comparison between human learning and
Christian principle," replied Mr. Stanley; "the one is indeed lighter
than the dust of the balance, when weighed against the other. All I
contend for is, that they are not incompatible, and that human
knowledge, used only in subserviency to that of the Scriptures, may
advance the interests of religion. For the better elucidation of those
Scriptures, a clergyman should know not a little of ancient languages.
Without some insight into remote history and antiquities, especially the
Jewish, he will be unable to explain many of the manners and customs
recorded in the sacred volume. Ignorance on some of these points has
drawn many attacks on our religion from skeptical writers. As to a
thorough knowledge of ecclesiastical history, it would be superfluous to
recommend that, it being the history of his own immediate profession. It
is therefore requisite, not only for the general purposes of
instruction, but that he may be enabled to guard against modern
innovation, by knowing the origin and progress of the various heresies
with which the Church in all ages has been infested."
"But," said Mr. Tyrrel, "he may be thoroughly acquainted with all this,
and not have one spark of light."
"He may indeed," said the Doctor; "with deep concern I allow it. I will
go further. The pride of learning, when not subdued by religion, may
help to extinguish that spark. Reason has been too much decried by one
party and too much deified by the other. The difference between reason
and revelation seems to be the same as between the eye and the light;
the one is the organ of vision, the other the source of illumination."
"Take notice, Stanley," observed Mr. Tyrrel, "that if I can help it,
I'll never attend your accomplished clergyman."
"I have not yet completed the circle of his accomplishments," said Mr.
Stanley, smiling; "besides what we call book learning, there is another
species of knowledge in which some truly good men are sadly deficient: I
mean an acquaintance with human nature. The knowledge of the world, and
of him who made it; the study of the heart of man, and of him who has
the hearts of all men in his hand, enable a minister to excel in the
art of instruction; one kind of knowledge reflecting light upon the
other. The knowledge of mankind, then, I may venture to assert, is, next
to religion, one of the first requisites of a preacher; and I can not
help ascribing the little success which has sometimes attended the
ministry of even worthy men, to their want of this grand ingredient. It
will diminish the use they might make of the great doctrines of our
religion, if they are ignorant of the various modifications of the human
character to which those doctrines are to be addressed.
"As no man ever made a true poet without this talent, one may venture to
say that few without it have ever made eminent preachers. Destitute of
this, the most elaborate addresses will be only random shot, which, if
they hit, will be more owing to chance than to skill. Without this
knowledge, warmed by Christian affection, guided by Christian judgment,
and tempered with Christian meekness, a clergyman will not be able in
the pulpit to accommodate himself to the various wants of his hearers;
without this knowledge, in his private spiritual visits he will resemble
those empirics in medicine who have but one method of treatment for all
diseases, and who apply indiscriminately the same pill and the same drop
to the various distempers of all ages, sexes, and constitutions. This
spirit of accommodation does not consist in falsifying, or abridging, or
softening, or disguising any truth; but in applying truth in every form,
communicating it in every direction, and diverting it into every
channel. Some good men seem sadly to forget that precept--_making a
difference_--for they act as if all characters were exactly alike."
"You talk," said Mr. Tyrrel, "as if you would wish clergymen to depart
from the singleness of truth, and preach two gospels."
"Far from it," replied Mr. Stanley, "but though truth is single, the
human character is multiplied almost to infinity, and can not be
addressed with advantage if it be not well understood. I am ashamed of
having said so much on such a subject in presence of Dr. Barlow, who is
silent through delicacy. I will only add, that a learned young clergyman
is not driven for necessary relaxation to improper amusements. His mind
will be too highly set to be satisfied with those light diversions which
purloin time without affording the necessary renovation to the body and
spirits, which is the true and lawful end of all amusement. In all
circumstances, learning confers dignity on his character. It enables him
to raise the tone of general conversation, and is a safe kind of medium
with persons of a higher class who are not religious; and it will always
put it in his power to keep the standard of intercourse above the
degrading topics of diversions, sports, and vulgar gossip."
"You see, Mr. Tyrrel," said the Doctor, "that a prudent combatant thinks
only of defending himself on that side where he is assaulted. If Mr.
Stanley's antagonist had been a vehement advocate for clerical learning
as the great essential to his profession, he would have been the first
to caution him against the pride and inflation which often attend
learning, when not governed by religion. Learning, not so governed,
might injure Christian humility, and thus become a far more formidable
enemy to religion than that which it was called in to oppose."
Sir John said, smiling, "I will not apply to the clergy what Rasselas
says to Imlac, after he had been enumerating the numberless qualities
necessary to the perfection of the poetic art--'Thou hast convinced me
that no man can be a poet;'--but if all Stanley says be just, I will
venture to assert that no common share of industry and zeal will qualify
a young student for that sacred profession. I have indeed no experience
on the subject, as it relates to the clerical order, but I conceive in
general, that learning is the best human preservative of virtue; that it
safely fills up leisure, and honorably adorns life, even where it does
not form the business of it."
"Learning, too," said I, "has this strong recommendation, that it is the
offspring of a most valuable virtue, I mean industry; a quality on which
I am ashamed to see pagans frequently set a higher value than we seem to
do."
"I believe, indeed," replied Sir John, "that the ancients had a higher
idea of industry and severe application than we have. Tully calls them
the _imperatoriae virtutes_, and Alexander said that slaves might indulge
in sloth, but that it was a most royal thing to labor."
"It has been the error of sensible men of the world to erect talents and
learning into idols, which they would have universally and exclusively
worshiped. This has, perhaps, driven some religious men into such a fear
of over-cultivating learning, that they do not cultivate it at all.
Hence the intervals between their religious employments, and intervals
there must be while we are invested with these frail bodies, are languid
and insipid, wasted in trifling and sauntering. Nay, it is well if this
disoccupation of the intellect do not lead from sloth to improper
indulgences."
"You are perfectly right," said Sir John; "our worthy friend Thompson is
a living illustration of your remark. He was at college with us; he
brought from thence a competent share of knowledge; has a fair
understanding, and the manners of a gentleman. For several years past he
has not only adopted a religious character, but is truly pious. As he is
much in earnest, he very properly assigns a considerable portion of his
time to religious reading. But as he is of no profession, the
intermediate hours often hang heavy on his hands. He continues to live
in some measure in the world, without the inconsistency of entering into
its pursuits; but having renounced the study of human learning, and yet
accustoming himself to mix occasionally with general society, he has few
subjects in common with his company, but is dull and silent in all
rational conversation, of which religion is not the professed object. He
takes so little interest in any literary or political discussion,
however useful, that it is evident nothing but his good breeding
prevents his falling asleep. At the same time, he scruples not to
violate consistency in another respect, for his table is so elaborately
luxurious, that it seems as if he were willing to add to the pleasures
of sense what he deducts from those of intellect."
"I have often thought," said Mr. Stanley, "of sending him Dr. Barlow's
_three sermons on industry in our calling as Christians, industry as
gentlemen, and industry as scholars_; which sermons, by the way, I
intended to have made my son read at least once a year, had he lived,
that he might see the consistency, the compatibility, nay, the analogy
of the two latter with the former. I wish the spirit of these three
discourses was infused into every gentleman, every scholar, and every
Christian through the land. For my own part, I should have sedulously
labored to make my son a sound scholar; while I should have labored
still more sedulously to convince him that the value of learning depends
solely on the purposes to which it is devoted. I would have a Christian
gentleman able to beat the world at its own weapons, and convince it,
that it is not from penury of mind, or inability to distinguish himself
in other matters, that he applies himself to seek that wisdom which is
from above; that he does not fly to religion as a shelter from the
ignominy of ignorance, but from a deep conviction of the comparative
vanity of that very learning which he yet is so assiduous to acquire."
During this conversation, it was amusing to observe the different
impressions made on the minds of our two college guests. Young Tyrrel,
who, with moderate parts and slender application, had been taught to
adopt some of his uncle's dogmas as the cheapest way of being wise,
greedily swallowed his eulogium of clerical ignorance, which the young
man seemed to feel as a vindication of his own neglected studies, and an
encouragement to his own mediocrity of intellect. While the interesting
young baronet, though silent through modesty, discovered in his
intelligent eyes evident marks of satisfaction in hearing that
literature, for which he was every day acquiring a higher relish, warmly
recommended as the best pursuit of a gentleman, by the two men in the
world for whose judgment he entertained the highest reverence. At the
same time it raised his veneration for Christian piety, when he saw it
so sedulously practiced by these advocates for human learning.