"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."