"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 imperatoriæ 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."