person of excellent wit and learning, he offered a notion applicable to
the subject we were then upon, which I took to be altogether new and
right. He said, that the difference betwixt a madman and one in his
wits, in what related to speech, consisted in this; that the former
spoke out whatever came into his mind, and just in the confused manner
as his imagination presented the ideas: The latter only expressed such
thoughts as his judgment directed him to choose, leaving the rest to die
away in his memory; and that, if the wisest man would, at any time,
utter his thoughts in the crude indigested manner as they come into his
head, he would be looked upon as raving mad. And, indeed, when we
consider our thoughts, as they are the seeds of words and actions, we
cannot but agree that they ought to be kept under the strictest
regulation; and that in the great multiplicity of ideas which one's mind
is apt to form, there is nothing more difficult than to select those
which are most proper for the conduct of life. So that I cannot imagine
what is meant by the mighty zeal in some people for asserting the
freedom of thinking; because, if such thinkers keep their thoughts
within their own breasts, they can be of no consequence, farther than to
themselves. If they publish them to the world, they ought to be
answerable for the effects their thoughts produce upon others. There are
thousands in this kingdom, who, in their thoughts, prefer a republic, or
absolute power of a prince, before a limited monarchy; yet, if any of
these should publish their opinions, and go about, by writing or
discourse, to persuade the people to innovations in government, they
would be liable to the severest punishments the law can inflict; and
therefore they are usually so wise as to keep their sentiments to
themselves. But, with respect to religion, the matter is quite
otherwise: and the public, at least here in England, seems to be of
opinion with _Tiberius_, that _Deorum injuriae diis curae_. They leave it
to God Almighty to vindicate the injuries done to himself, who is no
doubt sufficiently able, by perpetual miracles, to revenge the affronts
of impious men. And, it should seem, that is what princes expect from
him, though I cannot readily conceive the grounds they go upon; nor why,
since they are God's vicegerents, they do not think themselves at least
equally obliged to preserve their master's honour as their own; since
this is what they expect from those they depute, and since they never
fail to represent the disobedience of their subjects, as offences
against God. It is true, the visible reason of this neglect is obvious
enough: The consequences of atheistical opinions, published to the
world, are not so immediate, or so sensible, as doctrines of rebellion
and sedition, spread in a proper season. However, I cannot but think the
same consequences are as natural and probable from the former, though
more remote: And whether these have not been in view among our great
planters of infidelity in England, I shall hereafter examine.
***** ***** ***** *****
A LETTER
TO
A YOUNG CLERGYMAN,
LATELY ENTERED INTO
HOLY ORDERS.
1719-20.
NOTE.
No stronger proof could be adduced of Swift's genuine and earnest belief
in the dignity of a clergyman of the Church than this letter. In spite
of the sarcasms which here and there are levelled against the mediocre
members of the class, it is evident Swift felt that these might be made
worthy teachers and preachers of the doctrines of an institution
founded, in his opinion, for the best regulation of mankind. The letter
serves also to present us with an outline of a picture of the clergyman
of his day; and if this picture be not flattering, it seems faithfully
to reflect the social conditions which we know to have prevailed at the
time.
The letter was written in the years of quiet which Swift enjoyed between
the pamphleteering crusade against the Whigs, when Harley and St. John
were in power, and the famous social and political troubles which began
with Wood's halfpence.
The text of this letter is practically that of the first edition; but I
have collated this with the texts given by Hawkesworth, Scott, the first
volume of the "Miscellanies" of 1728, and the second volume of the
"Miscellanies" of 1745. In the original edition, and in the reprints
published to the time of Faulkner's collected edition, the title reads
"A Letter to a Young Gentleman," etc.
[T.S.]
A
LETTER
TO A
YOUNG GENTLEMAN,
LATELY ENTER'D INTO
HOLY ORDERS
By a Person of QUALITY.
It is certainly known, that the following Treatise was writ in Ireland
by the Reverend Dr. Swift, Dean of St. Patrick's in that Kingdom.
Dublin, _January the 9th,_ 1719-20.
Sir,
Although it was against my knowledge or advice, that you entered into
holy orders, under the present dispositions of mankind toward the
Church, yet since it is now supposed too late to recede, (at least
according to the general practice and opinion,) I cannot forbear
offering my thoughts to you upon this new condition of life you are
engaged in.
I could heartily wish that the circumstances of your fortune, had
enabled you to have continued some years longer in the university; at
least till you were ten years standing; to have laid in a competent
stock of human learning, and some knowledge in divinity, before you
attempted to appear in the world: For I cannot but lament the common
course, which at least nine in ten of those who enter into the ministry
are obliged to run. When they have taken a degree, and are consequently
grown a burden to their friends, who now think themselves fully
discharged, they get into orders as soon as they can; (upon which I
shall make no remarks,) first solicit a readership, and if they be very
fortunate, arrive in time to a curacy here in town, or else are sent to
be assistants in the country, where they probably continue several
years, (many of them their whole lives,) with thirty or forty pounds
a-year for their support, till some bishop, who happens to be not
overstocked with relations, or attached to favourites, or is content to
supply his diocese without colonies from England, bestows upon them some
inconsiderable benefice, when it is odds they are already encumbered
with a numerous family. I should be glad to know what intervals of life
such persons can possibly set apart for the improvement of their minds;
or which way they could be furnished with books, the library they
brought with them from their college being usually not the most
numerous, or judiciously chosen. If such gentlemen arrive to be great
scholars, it must, I think, be either by means supernatural, or by a
method altogether out of any road yet known to the learned. But I
conceive the fact directly otherwise, and that many of them lose the
greatest part of the small pittance they receive at the university.
I take it for granted, that you intend to pursue the beaten track, and
are already desirous to be seen in a pulpit, only I hope you will think
it proper to pass your quarantine among some of the desolate churches
five miles round this town, where you may at least learn to read and to
speak before you venture to expose your parts in a city congregation;
not that these are better judges, but because, if a man must needs
expose his folly, it is more safe and discreet to do so before few
witnesses, and in a scattered neighbourhood. And you will do well if you
can prevail upon some intimate and judicious friend to be your constant
hearer, and allow him with the utmost freedom to give you notice of
whatever he shall find amiss either in your voice or gesture; for want
of which early warning, many clergymen continue defective, and sometimes
ridiculous, to the end of their lives; neither is it rare to observe
among excellent and learned divines, a certain ungracious manner, or an
unhappy tone of voice, which they never have been able to shake off.
I should likewise have been glad, if you had applied yourself a little
more to the study of the English language, than I fear you have done;
the neglect whereof is one of the most general defects among the
scholars of this kingdom, who seem not to have the least conception of a
style, but run on in a flat kind of phraseology, often mingled with
barbarous terms and expressions, peculiar to the nation: Neither do I
perceive that any person, either finds or acknowledges his wants upon
this head, or in the least desires to have them supplied. Proper words
in proper places, make the true definition of a style. But this would
require too ample a disquisition to be now dwelt on: however, I shall
venture to name one or two faults, which are easy to be remedied, with a
very small portion of abilities.
The first is the frequent use of obscure terms, which by the women are
called hard words, and by the better sort of vulgar, fine language; than
which I do not know a more universal, inexcusable, and unnecessary
mistake, among the clergy of all distinctions, but especially the
younger practitioners. I have been curious enough to take a list of
several hundred words in a sermon of a new beginner, which not one of
his hearers among a hundred could possibly understand, neither can I
easily call to mind any clergyman of my own acquaintance who is wholly
exempt from this error, although many of them agree with me in the
dislike of the thing. But I am apt to put myself in the place of the
vulgar, and think many words difficult or obscure, which they will not
allow to be so, because those words are obvious to scholars, I believe
the method observed by the famous Lord Falkland[1] in some of his
writings, would not be an ill one for young divines: I was assured by an
old person of quality who knew him well, that when he doubted whether a
word was perfectly intelligible or no, he used to consult one of his
lady's chambermaids, (not the waiting-woman, because it was possible she
might be conversant in romances,) and by her judgment was guided whether
to receive or reject it. And if that great person thought such a caution
necessary in treatises offered to the learned world, it will be sure at
least as proper in sermons, where the meanest hearer is supposed to be
concerned, and where very often a lady's chambermaid may be allowed to
equal half the congregation, both as to quality and understanding. But I
know not how it comes to pass, that professors in most arts and sciences
are generally the worst qualified to explain their meanings to those who
are not of their tribe: a common farmer shall make you understand in
three words, that his foot is out of joint, or his collar-bone broken,
wherein a surgeon, after a hundred terms of art, if you are not a
scholar, shall leave you to seek. It is frequently the same case in law,
physic, and even many of the meaner arts.
[Footnote 1: Lucius Cary, second Viscount Falkland (1610-1643), who was
killed at the battle of Newbury in the great Civil War, was a generous
patron of learning and of the literary men of his day. He was himself a
fine scholar and able writer. Clarendon has recorded his character in
the seventh book of his "History of the Great Rebellion": "A person of
such prodigious parts of learning and knowledge, of that inimitable
sweetness and delight in conversation, of so flowing and obliging an
humanity and goodness to mankind, that, if there were no other brand
upon this odious and accursed Civil War than that single loss, it must
be infamous and execrable to all posterity." Falkland has been made the
hero of a romance by Lord Lytton. [T. S. ] ]
And upon this account it is, that among hard words, I number likewise
those which are peculiar to divinity as it is a science, because I have
observed several clergymen, otherwise little fond of obscure terms, yet
in their sermons very liberal of those which they find in ecclesiastical
writers, as if it were our duty to understand them; which I am sure it
is not. And I defy the greatest divine to produce any law either of God
or man, which obliges me to comprehend the meaning of _omniscience,
omnipresence, ubiquity, attribute, beatific vision,_ with a thousand
others so frequent in pulpits, any more than that of _eccentric,
idiosyncracy, entity,_ and the like. I believe I may venture to insist
farther, that many terms used in Holy Writ, particularly by St Paul,
might with more discretion be changed into plainer speech, except when
they are introduced as part of a quotation.[2]
[Footnote 2: Swift refers to this point in his "Thoughts on Religion,"
and regrets that the explanation of matters of doctrine, which St. Paul
expressed in the current eastern vocabulary, should have been
perpetuated in terms founded on the same terminology. [T. S.] ]
I am the more earnest in this matter, because it is a general complaint,
and the justest in the world. For a divine has nothing to say to the
wisest congregation of any parish in this kingdom, which he may not
express in a manner to be understood by the meanest among them. And this
assertion must be true, or else God requires from us more than we are
able to perform. However, not to contend whether a logician might
possibly put a case that would serve for an exception, I will appeal to
any man of letters, whether at least nineteen in twenty of those
perplexing words might not be changed into easy ones, such as naturally
first occur to ordinary men, and probably did so at first to those very
gentlemen who are so fond of the former.
We are often reproved by divines from the pulpits, on account of our
ignorance in things sacred, and perhaps with justice enough. However, it
is not very reasonable for them to expect, that common men should
understand expressions which are never made use of in common life. No
gentleman thinks it safe or prudent to send a servant with a message,
without repeating it more than once, and endeavouring to put it into
terms brought down to the capacity of the bearer: yet after all this
care, it is frequent for servants to mistake, and sometimes to occasion
misunderstandings among friends. Although the common domestics in some
gentlemen's families have more opportunities of improving their minds
than the ordinary sort of tradesmen.
It is usual for clergymen who are taxed with this learned defect, to
quote Dr. Tillotson, and other famous divines, in their defence; without
considering the difference between elaborate discourses upon important
occasions, delivered to princes or parliaments, written with a view of
being made public, and a plain sermon intended for the middle or lower
size of people. Neither do they seem to remember the many alterations,
additions, and expungings, made by great authors in those treatises
which they prepare for the public. Besides, that excellent prelate
above-mentioned, was known to preach after a much more popular manner in
the city congregations: and if in those parts of his works he be any
where too obscure for the understandings of many who may be supposed to
have been his hearers, it ought to be numbered among his omissions.
The fear of being thought pedants hath been of pernicious consequence to
young divines. This hath wholly taken many of them off from their
severer studies in the university, which they have exchanged for plays,
poems, and pamphlets, in order to qualify them for tea-tables and
coffee-houses. This they usually call "polite conversation; knowing the
world; and reading men instead of books." These accomplishments, when
applied to the pulpit, appear by a quaint; terse, florid style, rounded
into periods and cadences, commonly without either propriety or meaning.
I have listen'd with my utmost attention for half an hour to an orator
of this species, without being able to understand, much less to carry
away one single sentence out of a whole sermon. Others, to shew that
their studies have not been confined to sciences, or ancient authors,
will talk in the style of a gaming ordinary, and White Friars[3], when I
suppose the hearers can be little edified by the terms _palming,
shuffling, biting, bamboozling_ and the like, if they have not been
sometimes conversant among pick-pockets and sharpers. And truly, as they
say, a man is known by his company, so it should seem that a man's
company may be known by his manner of expressing himself, either in
public assemblies, or private conversation.
[Footnote 3: See note on "Alsatia," p. 100. [T. S.] ]
It would be endless to run over the several defects of style among us; I
shall therefore say nothing of the mean and paltry (which are usually
attended by the fustian), much less of the slovenly or indecent. Two
things I will just warn you against; the first is the frequency of flat
unnecessary epithets, and the other is the folly of using old threadbare
phrases, which will often make you go out of your way to find and apply
them, are nauseous to rational hearers, and will seldom express your
meaning as well as your own natural words.
Although, as I have already observed, our English tongue is too little
cultivated in this kingdom; yet the faults are nine in ten owing to
affectation, and not to the want of understanding. When a man's thoughts
are clear, the properest words will generally offer themselves first,
and his own judgment will direct him in what order to place them, so as
they may be best understood. Where men err against this method, it is
usually on purpose, and to shew their learning, their oratory, their
politeness, or their knowledge of the world. In short, that simplicity
without which no human performance can arrive to any great perfection,
is nowhere more eminently useful than in this.
I have been considering that part of oratory which relates to the moving
of the passions; this I observe is in esteem and practice among some
church divines, as well as among all the preachers and hearers of the
fanatic or enthusiastic strain. I will here deliver to you (perhaps with
more freedom than prudence) my opinion upon the point.
The two great orators of Greece and Rome, Demosthenes and Cicero, though
each of them a leader (or as the Greeks call it a demagogue) in a
popular state, yet seem to differ in their practice upon this branch of
their art; the former who had to deal with a people of much more
politeness, learning, and wit, laid the greatest weight of his oratory
upon the strength of his arguments, offered to their understanding and
reason: whereas Tully considered the dispositions of a sincere, more
ignorant, and less mercurial nation, by dwelling almost entirely on the
pathetic part.
But the principal thing to be remembered is, that the constant design of
both these orators in all their speeches, was to drive some one
particular point, either the condemnation or acquittal of an accused
person, a persuasive to war, the enforcing of a law, and the like; which
was determined upon the spot, according as the orators on either side
prevailed. And here it was often found of absolute necessity to inflame
or cool the passions of the audience, especially at Rome where Tully
spoke, and with whose writings young divines (I mean those among them
who read old authors) are more conversant than with those of
Demosthenes, who by many degrees excelled the other at least as an
orator. But I do not see how this talent of moving the passions can be
of any great use toward directing Christian men in the conduct of their
lives, at least in these northern climates, where I am confident the
strongest eloquence of that kind will leave few impressions upon any of
our spirits deep enough to last till the next morning, or rather to the
next meal.[4]
[Footnote 4: Swift's own sermons rarely appealed to the emotions; they
were, in his own phrase, political pamphlets, and aimed at convincing
the reason. [T. S.] ]
But what hath chiefly put me out of conceit with this moving manner of
preaching, is the frequent disappointment it meets with. I know a
gentleman, who made it a rule in reading, to skip over all sentences
where he spied a note of admiration at the end. I believe those
preachers who abound in _epiphonemas_,[5] if they look about them, would
find one part of their congregation out of countenance, and the other
asleep, except perhaps an old female beggar or two in the aisles, who
(if they be sincere) may probably groan at the sound.
[Footnote 5: _Epiphonema_ is a figure in rhetoric, signifying a
sententious kind of exclamation. [S.] ]
Nor is it a wonder, that this expedient should so often miscarry, which
requires so much art and genius to arrive at any perfection in it, as
any man will find, much sooner than learn by consulting Cicero himself.
I therefore entreat you to make use of this faculty (if you ever be so
unfortunate as to think you have it) as seldom, and with as much caution
as you can, else I may probably have occasion to say of you as a great
person said of another upon this very subject. A lady asked him coming
out of church, whether it were not a very moving discourse? "Yes," said
he, "I was extremely sorry, for the man is my friend."
If in company you offer something for a jest, and nobody second you in
your own laughter, nor seems to relish what you said, you may condemn
their taste, if you please, and appeal to better judgments; but in the
meantime, it must be agreed you make a very indifferent figure; and it
is at least equally ridiculous to be disappointed in endeavouring to
make other folks grieve, as to make them laugh.
A plain convincing reason may possibly operate upon the mind both of a
learned and ignorant hearer as long as they live, and will edify a
thousand times more than the art of wetting the handkerchiefs of a whole
congregation, if you were sure to attain it.
If your arguments be strong, in God's name offer them in as moving a
manner as the nature of the subject will properly admit, wherein reason
and good advice will be your safest guides; but beware of letting the
pathetic part swallow up the rational: For I suppose, philosophers have
long agreed, that passion should never prevail over reason.
As I take it, the two principal branches of preaching are first to tell
the people what is their duty, and then to convince them that it is so.
The topics for both these, we know, are brought from Scripture and
reason. Upon this first, I wish it were often practised to instruct the
hearers in the limits, extent, and compass of every duty, which requires
a good deal of skill and judgment: the other branch is, I think, not so
difficult. But what I would offer them both, is this; that it seems to
be in the power of a reasonable clergyman, if he will be at the pains,
to make the most ignorant man comprehend what is his duty, and to
convince him by argument drawn to the level of his understanding, that
he ought to perform it.
But I must remember that my design in this paper was not so much to
instruct you in your business either as a clergyman or a preacher, as to
warn you against some mistakes which are obvious to the generality of
mankind as well as to me; and we who are hearers, may be allowed to have
some opportunities in the quality of being standers-by. Only perhaps I
may now again transgress by desiring you to express the heads of your
divisions in as few and clear words as you possibly can, otherwise, I
and many thousand others will never be able to retain them, nor
consequently to carry away a syllable of the sermon.
I shall now mention a particular wherein your whole body will be
certainly against me, and the laity almost to a man on my side. However
it came about, I cannot get over the prejudice of taking some little
offence at the clergy for perpetually reading their sermons[6]; perhaps
my frequent hearing of foreigners, who never made use of notes, may have
added to my disgust. And I cannot but think, that whatever is read,
differs as much from what is repeated without book, as a copy does from
an original. At the same time, I am highly sensible what an extreme
difficulty it would be upon you to alter this method, and that, in such
a case, your sermons would be much less valuable than they are, for want
of time to improve and correct them. I would therefore gladly come to a
compromise with you in this matter. I knew a clergyman of some
distinction, who appeared to deliver his sermon without looking into his
notes, which when I complimented him upon, he assured me he could not
repeat six lines; but his method was to write the whole sermon in a
large plain hand, with all the forms of margin, paragraph, marked page,
and the like; then on Sunday morning he took care to run it over five or
six times, which he could do in an hour; and when he deliver'd it, by
pretending to turn his face from one side to the other, he would (in his
own expression) pick up the lines, and cheat his people by making them
believe he had it all by heart. He farther added, that whenever he
happened by neglect to omit any of these circumstances, the vogue of the
parish was, "Our doctor gave us but an indifferent sermon to-day." Now
among us, many clergymen act too directly contrary to this method, that
from a habit of saving time and paper, which they acquired at the
University, they write in so diminutive a manner, with such frequent
blots and interlineations, that they are hardly able to go on without
perpetual hesitations or extemporary expletives: And I desire to know
what can be more inexcusable, than to see a divine and a scholar, at a
loss in reading his own compositions, which it is supposed he has been
preparing with much pains and thought for the instruction of his people?
The want of a little more care in this article, is the cause of much
ungraceful behaviour. You will observe some clergymen with their heads
held down from the beginning to the end, within an inch of the cushion,
to read what is hardly legible; which, besides the untoward manner,
hinders them from making the best advantage of their voice: others again
have a trick of popping up and down every moment from their paper to the
audience, like an idle school-boy on a repetition day.
[Footnote 6: "The custom of reading sermons," notes Scott, "seems
originally to have arisen in opposition to the practice of Dissenters,
many of whom affected to trust to their Inspiration in their _extempore_
harangues." [T. S.] ]
Let me entreat you, therefore, to add one half-crown a year to the
article of paper; to transcribe your sermons in as large and plain a
manner as you can, and either make no interlineations, or change the
whole leaf; for we your hearers would rather you should be less correct
than perpetually stammering, which I take to be one of the worst
solecisms in rhetoric: And lastly, read your sermon once or twice for a
few days before you preach it: to which you will probably answer some
years hence, "that it was but just finished when the last bell rang to
church:" and I shall readily believe, but not excuse you.