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ZIX
PROFESSOR PHELPS' WORKS.
THE THEORY OF PREACHING, or, Lectures on Homiletics.
Cr. 8vo $2.50
MEN AND BOOKS, or, Studies m Homiletics. Lectures intro-
ductory to " Theory of Preaching." Cr. 8vo 2.00
ENGLISH STYLE IN PUBLIC DISCOURSE. With special refer-
ence to the Usages of the Pulpit. Cr. 8vo ....... 2.00
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MEN AND BOOKS
OB
STUDIES IN HOMILETICS
LECTURES INTRODUCTORY TO
THE THEORY OF PREACHING-
BY
AUSTIN PHELPS, D.D.
LATE BARTLET PROFESSOR OF SACRED RHETORIC IN ANDOVEB
THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1891 ^.
- hloifL-
CorTRIGHT BT
CHARLES SCRIBXER'S SONS.
1882.
PEEFACE.
A THOROUGHLY trained preacher is first a man, at home
among men : he is then a scholar, at home in libraries. No
other profession equals that of the pulpit in its power to
absorb and appropriate to its own uses the world of real life
in the present and the world of the past as it lives in books.
A very essential part of a preacher's culture, therefore, con-
cerns his use of these two resources of professional power.
The large majority of the topics commonly treated by pro-
fessors of homiletics as miscellanies will be found to arrange
themselves naturally in these two lines of discussion. By so
arranging them, I have sought to gain the concentration of
unity and the cumulation of order.
Like the Lectures on "The Theory of Preaching,'* in a
former volume, these discussions retain the form and style of
the lecture-room in which they were delivered, in response
to the practical inquiries of students on the eve of entrance
upon their life's work. Almost no other changes have been
made than those which were necessary in the mechanical
revision for the press.
It should be observed, respecting that portion of this work
which discusses the study of books, that its design is limited.
I have by no means attempted to give an analysis of English
iii
IV PREFACE.
literature, nor to plan the studies of men of literary leisure,
nor to advise respecting the reading of miscellaneous classes,
as President Porter has so usefully done in his work on
''Books and Reading." My aim is to answer the inquiries
of young pastors whose collegiate training has created liter-
ary aspirations which ought to be perpetuated in the life-
long labors of their profession.
It will be objected, to some of the counsel given in these
pages, that to many young preachers it is impracticable.
This objection is treated at length near the close of the vol-
ume. But at present this should be said of it : that any plan
of effort or of study auxiliary to the work of the pulpit, to be
largely useful, must, from the nature of the case, be largely
ideal in its character. One of its chief virtues must be its
power to sustain the aspirations of a preacher, rather than to
measure his achievements. Diversities of gifts, diversities
of culture, diversities of health, and diversities of leisure,
must create such diversities of condition among pastors that
no two of them can find precisely the same plan practicable
to them both.
All that professional criticism can do, therefore, is to
present to all, as to one, the true ideal of the labor auxiliary
to homiletic culture, and trust to the good sense of each to
decide for himself how far, and with what eclectic skill, it is
practicable to him. It is worth much to have a good ideal
of any thing that is worth doing. The grandest lives are but
approaches to grand ideals. The very sight of a good
library, though just now unused, is a stimulus and a cheer
to a missionary in the backwoods. So an ideal of a life's
work is valuable as a suggestion of effort, perhaps for ever
PREFACE.
impracticable in the full, yet for ever susceptible of approxi-
mation. Such an ideal does much for a youthful pastor, if it
marks out the line of ascent on which he will gain the loftiest
altitude and the broadest vision, with the least waste of
mental and moral forces.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
LECTURE I.
pAoa
The Original Source of Oratorical Culture. — A Preacher's Study of
his Own Mind. — Study of Other Men; of Individuals; of Secu-
lar Assemblies; of Religious Awakenings .••.•!
LECTURE IL
Study of Men, continued. — The Factitious Reverence for Books. —
The Popular Idea of a Clergyman. — The Clergyman of Liter-
ary Fiction. — Clerical Seclusion; its Effects on the Pulpit. —
Antipathy to Political Preaching. — Waste in Ministrationa of
the Pulpit 17
LECTURE IIL
Study of Men, continued. — Study of Eccentric Preachers. — A
Negative Ministry. — Preaching in an Age of Excitement. —
Literature not constructed for the Masses; Consequent Peril to
the Pulpit. — Resemblances between the Pulpit and the Greek
Drama. — Popular Revolutions often Independent of the Edu-
cated Classes
LECTURE IV.
udy of Men, continued. — Popular Revolutions distorted for the
Want of Educated Leadership; the Clergy the Natural Leaders
of the Popular Mind. — The Clergy sometimes Ultra-conser-
vative; Effect of a Tardy Leadership. — Consequence of an
Exclusive Ministry 49
Viil TABLE OF CONTENTS.
LECTURE V.
FAGB
Study of Men, continued. — Clerical Influence with Educated
Classes more largely Moral than Intellectual, Reflexive rather
than Direct. — Anomalous Relations often created between
the Church and the World 67
LECTURE VI.
Study of Men, concluded. — Practice of Leading Minds in History.
— Ancient Theory of Education. — Theory of the Middle Ages.
— Modern English Theory. — Individual Examples. — Eminent
Writers who decry Oratorical Study
LECTURE Vn.
Study of Literature for Clerical Discipline. — Objects of the Study;
Discipline, not Accumulation; Discovery of Principles of Effec-
tive Speech; Power of Unconscious Use of Principles; Assimila-
tion to the Genius of Great Authors 36
LECTURE Vin.
Objects of the Study of Literature, continued. —Knowledge of
One's Own Adaptations; Necessity of this to the Ministry;
Illustrations of the Want of it. — Peril of an Educated Min-
istry. — Study of Books conducive to Self-appreciation . , 111
LECTURE IX.
Selection of Authors.— Worthless Books. — Universal Scholarship
a Fiction. — Impracticable Plans of Reading. — Rebellion
against Necessary Limitations. — Controlling Powers in Litera-
ture 12':
LECTURE X.
Study of the Few Controlling Minds, continued. — An Objection
considered. — The English Literature Predominant. — Ver-
nacular as compared with Foreign Literature. — Utility of
Culturethe True Test. — Selfishness in Culture .... 146
TABLE OF CONTENTS. IX
LFXTURE XI.
PAGK
Superiority of the English Literature; tlie English a Composito
Order of Mind; a Literature of Power as distinct from Knowl-
edge; a Christian Literature; a Protestant Literature; a Lit-
erature of Constitutional Freedom; a Balanced Literature; a
Mature Literature; a Popular Literature; Prolific of Models
of Persuasive Speech IGO
LECTURE XTI.
Recognition of an American Literature in our Studies; its Intrin-
sic Worth in some Departments; an Offshoot of the Literature
of England; American Theological Literature Original , . 177
LECTURE XIIL
Choice of Authors regulated in Part by Professional Pursuits;
Choice of Authors Compreliensive; Variety not at the Ex-
pense of Scholarship; Literary Affectations; Cant in Literature;
Breadth Essential to Richness; Autocracy of Authors . . 192
LECTURE XIV.
Breadth of Range in Study, continued; the Clergy in Danger of a
Narrow Culture. — Dr. Arnold's Advice to Young Preachers.—
Living Speakers as Models; Magnitude of Unwritten Litera-
ture; its Representative Character; Powerlessness of the Press
to express it; Necessity of the Study of it to True Conceptions
Of Oral Eloquence; Essay and Speech distinguished . . .207
LECTURE XV.
Study of the Bible as a Literary Model. —The Neglect of the Scrip-
tures by the Taste of Scholars. — Defect in our Systems of Edu-
cation.—The Bible the Most Ancient Literature Extant: its
Representative Relation to the Oriental Mind. — Oriental Races
not Effete. —The Bible the Regenerative Power in the Revival
of the Oriental Mind 224
LECTURE XVL
Study of the Bible as a Literary Classic, continued. — The Bible
incorporated into all Living Literature; Spenser; Shakspeare;
Milton; Wordsworth; English Hymnology; Forensic Elo-
X TABLE OF CONTENTS.
FAGB
quence. — Debt of Infidelity to the Scriptures, — Intrinsic
Superiority of Biblical Models. — Bearing of Inspiration on
Literary- Merit; in "What consists its Literary Superiority ? . 238
LECTURE XVII.
Study of the Scriptures as Classics, concluded. — Professional Value
of Biblical Models to a Preacher. — Biblical and Theological
Forms of Truth, — Biblical Forms in Religious Awakenings. —
Scholarship blended with Religious Feeling in Biblical Study , 256
LECTURE XVIIL
The Methods of Literary Study by a Pastor. — Preliminaries. —Ne-
cessity of Critical Reading; of Philosophical Modes of Read-
ing. — Anomalies in Literature, — Reading with Division of
Labor; Essential to Intelligent Study; to Profound Knowledge;
to Extent of Learning 269
LECTURE XIX.
Methods of Study, continued, — Comparisons of Authors. — Com-
parisons of National Literatures; of Departments; of Litera-
ture with Art. — Disclosure of Delicate Qualities. — Relative
Excellences,— Special Culture of Weak Points, — Tyranny of
Natural Tastes, — Collateral Reading of Biography and His-
tory; Illustrated 281
LECTURE XX.
Methods of Study, continued, —Reading with Practice In Compo-
sition; improves the Quality of Study; promotes Originality. —
Proportion of Executive Power to Critical Taste, — Methods of
connecting Study with Composition, — Imitations of Authors. —
Daily Composing prefaced by Daily Study. — Appreciation of
Genius associated with Just Estimate of One's Self , . . 295
LECTURE XXI.
The Practicability of Literary Study to a Pastor. — Any Scholarly
Plan of Study an Ideal One, — Study must be made Practicable.
— Retrenchment of Executive Miscellanies. — Severe Bodily
Discipline Essential. — Assisted by Moral Virtues. — Originality
of Plans. — Scholastic Ideal alone, not Practicable. — Necessity
of Concentration. — Interruptions anticipated .... 309
TABLE OF CONTENTS. xi
LECTURE XXII.
PAGH
A Plan of Study of the English Literature. — A Historic Line of Pro-
fessional Reading. —Collateral Lines pursued as suggested by
the Professional Line. — Remote Portions of the Literature read
by Departments. — Fragments of Time Utilized. — Light Litera-
ture reserved for Periods of Leisure. — The Plan detailed,
fromA.D. 1350 to A.D. 1850. — Miscellaneous Hints . . .'325
MEN AND BOOKS;
OR,
STUDIES IN IIOMILETICS
LECTURE I.
INTEODUCTION. — STUDY OF MEN; OF A PREACHER'S
OWN MIND; OF OTHER MEN.
The first orator in the order of time had nothing to
make him an orator but his head and his heart and his
study of men. He had no treatises, no models, no ob-
jective eloquence in any form, to guide him. He had
only human nature to work with as well as to work
upon. The instinct of speech he improved into elo-
quence by experiments upon men as hearers of speech.
Then, when the reflective process began in his mmd,
and he reasoned out the first crude science of his art,
he must have reasoned upon the simple facts of his
experience. His primary question was not, What is elo-
quence in its philosophical germ ? or. Has it any such
germ? It was. How is it that men are actually moved
by speech? What, in fact, persuades men? What has
done this as a matter of experiment ? Upon that his-
tory of eloquence as an experience of living minds,
2 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. i.
possibly of but ODe living mind, must have been laid
the first stone of the arch of oratorical science.
But while the first orators, and, following them, the
writers, — for speech must have preceded writing, —
had only men to study, their productions became to
their successors an additional source of oratorical cul-
ture. Observe : not an independent, but a supplement-
ary source. It is a source, which, from the necessity
of the case, could be valuable only so far as it embodied
the results of a knowledge of human nature. Demos-
thenes, by incorporating into his orations the principles
of eloquence derived from the study of men, rendered
those orations a source of culture to all subsequent
generations. We therefore have a second source of
oratorical culture in models of effective writing and
speaking.
Observe, that, when we speak of models of effective
writing and speaking, we include all successful and
permanent literature. The grand test of power in
speech is the Napoleonic test of character, — success.
The final test of success, from which there is no appeal,
is permanence. All literature, be it oral or written,
which bears these tests, may be a source of professional
discipline to a public speaker. Not merely orations,
speeches, sermons, but all written thought which bears
the stamp of success, must embody some of the princi-
ples of power in the expression of thought by language.
In defining the range of it, we do not inquire what
authors and speakers have written and spoken according
to one standard or another, by the rules of one authority
or another, to the taste of one age or another, but
simply who have succeeded. We do not ask who have
succeeded in the right cause or the wrong, with good
LECT. I.] STUDY OF MEN. 3
motive or bad motive, by honest purpose or by knavery,
but who have succeeded in any cause, with any motive,
by any means of sj^eech.
Proceeding to apply the view here given to the
studies of a preacher, I propose, in this and the suc-
ceeding Lectures, to speak of a preacher's study of
MEN and of his study of books as sources of oratorical
discipline.
I. Upon a preacher's independent study of men the
following suggestions deserve remembrance : —
1. Every preacher may obtain much of oratorical cul-
ture from attention to the processes of his own mind.
The study of men every man may pursue for himself.
We have at least the same facilities in this respect that
the first orator had. In the study of men a preacher
should rank first his own mind. You have in your own
selves an original and independent source of rhetorical
knowledge. No other can be more so.
(1) In development of this view, let it be observed
that every man's experience contains biographical inci-
dents suggestive of oratorical principles. Every educated
mind which is therefore accustomed to self-inspection
has in itself a history of oratorical appliances. You
have listened to public speakers ; you have heard ser-
mons ; you have read successful literature ; you know,
therefore, what truths have moved your own mind,
and in what forms, and in what combinations with
other truths. You have learned to distinguish between
speakers who instruct your intellect only and those who
move your sensibilities. Your memory is full of inci-
dents of success or failure in experiments of speech
which other men have made upon yourselves. Have
you not unconsciously laid the foundations of your
4 MEN AND BOOKS. [t.ect. i
self-knowledge, in part, in this knowledge of your own
susceptibility to persuasive speech?
Here, then, is a general criterion by which to judge
of your own appliances to other minds, — a general cri-
terion, I say, because individualities differ in details.
Very much spurious composition would collapse if the
writer would honestly apply to it the test, " Would tliis
move me ? Would these thoughts, thus expressed, sat-
isfy the cravings of my nature ? Would this strain of
argument convince my intellect, this style of reproof
reach my conscience, this method of appeal sway my
heart?"
Many a preacher knows that the best of his own ser-
mons can not stand this homely test. The salient inci-
dents in his own mental history, which are always most
fresh in his memory, suggest something very unlike his
own productions. His experience as a listener, and his
practice as a preacher, are founded on different ideals
of success. If he were to choose, on the spur of the
moment, the preacher to whom he owes, more than to
any other, his noblest conception of the power of the
pulpit, he would choose the man above all others most
unlike himself, and whose sermons, not only in degree
of excellence, but in kind and in aim, are most diverse
from his own.
(2) Not only do incidents salient in every man's life
suggest principles of eloquent speech, but the more
profound history of every man's character is full of
similar suggestions. Every character has a history of
changes. They lie deeper than transitory movements
of intellect, and awakening of sensibilities. As preach-
ers we have to deal mainly with fundamental changes
of character. Our great aim is to produce changes,
LECT. I.] PERSONAL HISTORY. O
Bome of which are revolutionary. The plow of the
pulpit runs deep, if it runs at all to the purpose of the
pulpit.
A preacher needs, therefore, to study the history of
his own character. He needs wisdom to read it aright.
Your own life antecedent to your religious awakening ;
the causes and the process of that awakening ; the un-
written experiences which gather in your memory around
the crisis of your conversion, if that crisis disclosed itself
to you ; and the visible stages in the process of your
religious growth thus far, — are most vital resources of
that kind of culture which you need as a guiding mind
to others through similar experiences. Other changes
auxiliary to these are scarcely less important. Changes
of opinion, of taste, of mental habit ; changes in the
proportion of the spiritual to the physical in your
nature ; changes inevitable to progress from the infancy
to the maturity of godly principle within you; any
and every change which your self-consciousness marks
as fundamental to growth of character, — are resources
of knowledge to you respecting means and methods of
working, combinations of truth most helpful to success,
and the entire furniture of your mind for the work of
training characters which are in need of or are under-
going similar changes under your ministrations.
Yet does not the history of the pulpit give evidence
of inattention to this kind of personal history, which
must lie back of it in the memory of the preacher?
We preach too little of and from the work of God
within us ; too much, perhaps, about our external his-
tory, but too little about the principles involved in the
deeper processes of spiritual life, which do not disclose
themselves in events, nor provide the material for an
6 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. i
anecdote, but are subterranean, and tributary to aU
growth. Much of the fanaticism of the pulpit would
be forestalled, if preachers were more studious of God'a
method in the training of themselves. As a rule,
fanatical preachers were not converted by fanaticism.
They are never themselves improved by fanaticism.
They know this, if they interpret honestly their own
history. A regenerate man preaching from his own
regenerate experience could not be a fanatic : he could
not so disturb the divine balance of truth. Some
short-sighted modes of doing good, some unnatural ap-
peals to the consciences and the feelings of men, much
claptrap, egotism, humdrum, animal magnetism, in the
pulpit, would be displaced by more profound resources,
and more intensely vitalized expedients, if preachers
read human nature more adroitly in their own.
Preachers often attempt to influence audiences, not
only by isolated arguments, illustrations, appeals, but
by prolonged plans of ministerial effort, which they
know, when they fairly awaken to the realities of the
case, have no root in the underground of their OT\Ti
characters. Revivals of religion are sometimes labored
for by expedients which are untrue to the preacher's
own history. They are expedients which he knows
would, if he had encountered them at a critical period
of his life, have caused his own soul to revolt from
the truth, to despise the truth, or to stagnate under the
truth. He is the very last man, it may be, to have
responded favorably to a prophecy of his own sermons.
Have you not yourselves observed the fact in the
histoiy of preaching, that ministers who fall into un-
philosophical modes of preaching are themselves the
most iminterested listeners to such preaching ? Preach-
LECT. I.] UNPHILOSOPHICAL PREACHING. 7
ers are proverbially hard hearers. One reason is, that
there is so much in preaching which is unreal to any-
body's experience. They who preach claptrap are not
edified by claptrap any more than their hearers. Those
who preach humdrum are not interested in humdrum
when they hear it. They sleep under it more pro-
foundly, if possible, than other men. Seat them as
listeners to such preaching, and, if their eyes are open,
they are as the fool's eyes, like those of other hearers.
A great and live soul, which can furnish its own fire,
is required to get aglow under such preaching. The
authors of it never do : they never feel even the
crackling of thorns under such a pot. Ignatius Loyola
might have been converted under such preaching, but
never the Rev. Dr. Dunderhead.
The same is true of inordinately intellectual preach-
ers. By this I mean those preachers in whom intel-
lectual enthusiasm exceeds and overpowers religious
fervor. Such preachers are not morally moved by the
preaching of their peers. They are not religiously
edified by extreme profundity, or b}^ imaginative pyro-
technics, or by mystical reveries, in other preachers.
The men who move them are probably the plain men
who talk right on. The text may move them; the
pra3^er may melt them ; the hymn may make them
weep : but the immensely intellectual sermon, which
is that, and nothing more — they know too well the
stuff it is made of.
The phenomenon will sometimes discover itself to
you in the experience of the pulpit, that a preacher's
professional life and his personal life are at antipodes to
each other. He preaches almost any thing, in any way,
except the thing, in the way, which the Holy Ghost
8 MEN AND BOOKS. [leci. -
has made a living thing and a living way to liis own
soul. You perceive, then, the fundamental character of
the principle, that a preacher should study his hearers
in himself. Other things being equal, no other preach-
ing is so effective as the preaching which is rooted in a
man's own experience of truth. Such truth he knows.
Comparatively speaking, he knows nothing else.
2. Every preacher has also a source of rhetorical
culture in the study of other men. Real life every-
where is full of power in speech. Character can scarce-
ly express itself in language other than the dialect of
eloquence. Whether it be so denominated in books or
not, it is such in fact. Books should be conformed to
life, not life to books.
(1) Individual character in its rudest forms is power
in speech. The market-place, the streets, the fields, the
workshops, the counting-rooms, the court-rooms, the
schoolhouses, the platforms, the firesides, the steam-
boats, the rail-cars, the exchange, every place, every
thing, in which men are off their guard, and speak
right out what they think and as they feel, with no
consciousness of trying either to think or to feel, are
teeming with natural eloquence. Books bear no com-
parison with this eloquence of life. The world could
not contain the books which would have been requisite
to express this unwritten development of power in
oratorical forms of utterance.
You can not observe two men making a bargain with-
out witnessing an example of something which enters
into the highest art of persuasion. You can not listen
to the words, constructions, intonations, of an angry
man, without meeting some of the elements of all
earnest oratory. A man chasing his hat in a gale acts
LECT. I.] SECULAR ASSEMBLIES. 9
in pantomime a principle which Demosthenes could not
safely ignore in striving for the crown. The slang of
the street, the dialect of the forecastle, the lingo of
collegians, illustrate principles of style which underlie
forms of power in thought and utterance which have
lived a thousand years. A woman over the couch of a
sick cliild speaks in words which have roots running
down into the original ideal of pathos in all literature.
V Animated conversation illustrates principles, and takes
on forms, which no eloquence of the senate or the
pulpit can do without. How often does our wearied
criticism of a public speaker express itself in some such
inward exclamation as this, " Oh that he would step
down from his stilts, and talk as we heard him talk at
the tea-table on a certain evening ! "
These most common and therefore neglected forms
of individual character in daily life are full of the re-
sources of homiletic culture to any one who will take
the trouble to observe them for that purpose. At this
point is seen one of the vital dependences of the pulpit
on pastoral duty. No preacher can afford to be a
preacher only, and live in his study alone, were it only
for his need of homiletic suggestion coming directly
from the homes and the business of his people. To
know thoroughly one able man in your parish is the
counterpart of a homiletic treatise in teaching you how
to preach to all the peers of that man.
(2) The conduct of secular assemblies often discloses
the working of power in speech. Much wisdom which
preachers have occasion for may be learned from the
answer to the question, " How do lawyers who gain
their cases deal with juries ? How do they work differ-
ently in addressing a bench of judges?" If it were
10 MEN AND BOOKS. [lkct. i.
possible, I would have every minister of the gospel
practice law. Some of our ablest preachers have been
subjected to that preliminary discipline, and never
without acknowledging their obligations to it through
a lifetime.
How are town-meetings governed by a few words
from a few plain men? How is it that an educated
man sometimes fails in such an assembly, outgeneraled
by a farmer or a blacksmith? How is a city mob
quelled by a dozen men with no weapons more deadly
than a billy? Why are a dozen policemen a match for
a hundred desperadoes ? The elements of power which
explain that phenomenon have their parallels in oratori-
cal forces. The principle which explains, in part, the
fact that an army of sixty thousand men keeps in sub
j action sixty millions of aliens in British India is the
same which explains, in part, the coming conversion of
the world by a handful of preachers with no auxilia-
ries to speech but prayer.
Edward Everett could hold in silence an audience of
three thousand scholarly minds by an oration which
passed at once into the standards of literature ; and
Charles Sumner could command the most intelligent
and independent Senate in the world, not one of
whom liked him personally, by a speech which became a
thesaurus of learning and a landmark of history. Yet
neither of these princely orators could get a hearing of
ten minutes from a crowd in the street, if the Hon.
Stephen A. Douglas were known to be there to oppose
them. What caused these diversities? Anybody who
will explain such facts as these truthfully must dis-
cover in the process some practical rhetorical wisdom,
and that the very last which a preacher can afford to lose.
LECT. I.] RELIGIOUS AWAKENINGS. ll
Are some of these things done by other means than
speech, and by foul means in part? Very true. But
all successes in real life have their counterparts in
speech. Foul means, to be successful, must appeal to
elements of human nature which are normal to it. A
right appeal to those elements a preacher may make
with hope of equal success. The susceptibility of the
human mind to such appeals is the basis of all elo-
quence. The business of real life, therefore, is full of it.
The study of men succeeding and failing in that busi-
ness must be prolific of wisdom to a public speaker.
The late Lord Lytton gives advice to a young London
author, saying, " Never write a page till you have
walked from your room to Temple Bar, mingling with
men, and reading the human face." He adds the fact
that great poets have, for the most part, passed their
lives in cities.
(3) We find also a specially valuable resource of
homiletic culture in the study of masses of men under
religions excitement. Sympathetic religious awakenings
are phenomena of life as old as nations: to them is
due by far the major proportion of Christian progress.
More than half of the history of Christianity in this
world would be blotted out if we should erase the rec-
ord of the great sympathetic waves of religious sensi-
bility which have rolled over communities and nations
and races. The modern excitement which we term a
revival illustrates only one phase of an experience of
which, in kindred forms, history is full.
Revivals are often spoken of as an American product.
It is true that American revivals have had peculiarities
growing out of the national temperament and history ;
bat in the sense of being in spirit limited to one coun-
12 MEN AND BOOKS. • [lect. \.
try or another, or one nation or age rather than another,
the}^ are not American. Revivals are a normal working
of human nature moved by supernatural forces. They
have never been provincial. All the past is dotted over
with them : all the future must be the same. Our hope
of the world's conversion is a dream, if religious prog-
ress is to be measured by that of the intervals between
these great awakenings of the popular heart.
Such awakenings, therefore, are a very vital object of
a preacher's study. Generally, sympathetic religious
excitements are the result of preaching. Consecutive
plans of preaching should contemplate them, and be
adjusted to them. Under a wise ministry, blessed of
God, they are sure to occur. A pulpit not adjusted to
them is like a system of husbandry not planned for a
harvest. One of the saddest sights in the history of
the pulpit is that of a ministry which regards revivals
as abnormal, and which therefore adjusts itself in schol-
arly ease and refinement to the slow and well-nigh
hopeless growth of periods which lie between revivals.
Such a ministry, you will observe, are very apt to find
their chief interests and excitements outside of their
profession. They give themselves to literature, to sci-
ence, to art, to reforms, to social life, to the improve-
ment of their private fortunes. Some of our standards
in literature have been the work of clergymen who did
the work, and could do it, because their professional
plans did not contemplate nor aim at overpowering
awakenings of the people. Few men in the pulpit can
adjust themselves to the divine plans in this respect, as
history has thus far given us the means of interpreting
them, and yet find time and mental force to create lit-
erary standards which shall live to future times. The
LECT. I.] PHILOSOPHY OF REVIVALS. 13
exhortations to scholarly aims which we give and receive
are always to be accepted with this qualification, that,
in a successful ministry, religious awakenings may
overwhelm a preacher with professional labors to such
degree as to render literary pursuits for the time imprac-
ticable. Such awakenings must command the profound
and prayerful study of men who mean to be a power in
the instrumental control of them.
The practical question is, How are they brought
about? What procedure of the pulpit is conducive
to them? A country village, remote from the excite-
ment of metropolitan crowds, is agitated by a strange
quickening of religious inquiry. Skeptics look upon it
as an epidemic. What has Christian philosophy to say
of it ? What instruments have apparently wrought the
change? What methods of preaching, what subjects
in the pulpit, what auxiliary agencies outside of the
pulpit, have seemed to be the working forces ? .Hard-
featured and cross-grained men are subdued by a female
Bible-reader ; so that a quaint observer applies to them
the old couplet in the primer, —
" Whales in the sea
God's voice obey."
What is the secret of her power ? A roving evangelist
whom three-fifths of the community despise reaches
the other two-fifths with such power of moral suasion,
that the majority are compelled to smother their con-
tempt, or to express it in tones which echo a secret fear
that he is right, and they are wrong. How does he do
it ? Prayer-meetings are crowded in the " Black Sea " in
Boston. A motley assembly of five thousand, whom no
other than a religious teacher could keep silent for ten
14 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. i.
miniTtes, are thus held for an hour by the plainest of
plam religious talk in Burton's Theatre in New York.
Twenty thousand men and women in the Crystal Palace
at Sydenham are held in such stillness that they all
hear one voice intelligibly. How are these things done ?
What is the philosophy of the success of such men as
Whitefield, Summerfield, Spurgeon, Finney, Moody?
Right or wrong, normal or abnormal, these are facts
in popular history. They are known and read of all
men. They assume the importance of crises in the
history of nations. In our own day they are growing
to the magnitude of the old Roman gladiatorial shows.
The simple power of speech seems now to be achiev-
ing results in popular excitement, which in Pagan life
could be created only by brutal and sanguinary spec-
tacles. What philosophy of speech can explain them ?
Wise is the man who can give the reason why speech
should thus supplant the dagger and the lasso and the
trident.
As specimens of the questions on this subject which
a preacher needs to ask and answer, let the following
be specified : ^ Are revivals of religion a normal method
of divine working for the world's conversion? What
is their relation to divine sovereignty? Are any laws
of the working of the Holy Spirit in them discoverable ?
In what condition of the popular mind are revivals to
be looked for ? What agency of the pulpit is prepara-
tive to a revival ? What agencies auxiliary to the pulpit
are most essential? Are evangelistic labors desirable
under a settled ministry ? What types of theology are
dominant in the most valuable revivals ? What place
1 The majority of these inquiries have been published in the appendix
to the " Theory of Preaching."
LF.CT. I.] STUDY OF REVIVALS. 15
should be assigned in them to doctrinal preaching?
Has the service of song any special value in them?
Are children proper subjects of conversion in revivals ?
What are the pathological perils incident to such awak-
enings? How are those perils avoidable? How can
they be counteracted when not avoidable ? Are minds
of high culture naturally subject to these popular awak-
enings ? Does the subsidence of a revival imply reli-
gious decline ? Does popular re-action from a revival
neutralize its value ? What policy of the pulpit should
characterize the period immediately following a revival ?
What are the differences, if any, between the type of
piety of those who meet the religious crisis of their
lives in revivals and those who meet it in more tranquil
times? What is that change in professing Christians
which often occurs in revivals, and is called "reconver-
sion " ? Is President Edwards's work on the " Religious
Affections" adapted to the present religious inquirers?
If, by a philosophic study of these and kindred ques-
tions, we can come at those principles of human nature
which underlie the divine economy in the sympathetic
awakenings of society to the realities of eternity, we
gain thereby the very pith and marrow of homiletic cul-
ture. I repeat, therefore, Study the great awakenings
of the past. Investigate the spiritual life of the Ref-
ormation. Read Tracy's history of the " Great Awaken-
ing" in President Edwards's day. Observe critically
the similar movements of our own day. Read the " Year
of Grace in Ireland," the "History of the Hawaiian
Islands," the "History of Missions in Madagascar."
Study the lives of pre-eminent revival preachers. Read
the memoirs of Whitefield, Wesley, Nettleton, Finney,
Lyman Beecher, Dr. Kirk. Observe narrowly the facts
16 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. i
of current history bearing on the subject. Be familiar
with the ministries of such men as Mr. Spurgeon. Learn
something from them all. Study opposite characters
in the history of revivals.
Above all, preserve a docile state of mind in such
studies. Take an expectant attitude. Look for pro-
gressive evolution of wisdom in the administration of
the pulpit. Never allow your mind to settle down in a
quiescent state, under the conviction that the policy of
the pulpit is fixed by the past for all time.
A most fatal position to the clergy of a nation is that
assumed by a portion of the clergy of this country and
of England, which holds them aloof from the experience
of modern revivals, and which some of them avow as
antagonistic to such awakenings. Fatal, I say, is such
an attitude to the spiritual power of the ministry. A
pulpit thus sundered from these quickenings of the
popular heart can never be the pulpit of the future.
The work of this world's redemption will sweep grandly
over it, and bury it in oblivion. Or, if it lives, it can
represent only a fragmentary and sicldy development
of religious life. It can only build up a Christian
infirmary in which shall be gathered the invalid classes
of Christian minds. All the signs of our age indicate
increase rather than diminution of these popular ex-
citements. The ministry must understand them, must
be in sympathy with them, must be masters in the
control of them, or must perish under the billows of
them which are sure to roll in upon the church of all
coming time.
LECTURE II.
STUDY OP MEN, CONTINUED. — CERTAIN CLERICAL IN-
FIRMITIES, EFFECTS ON THE PULPIT.
3. Resuming the subject of the study of men where
we left it at the close of the last Lecture, let us now
observe the fact that this study is often undervalued,
because of a factitious reverence for books.
This must be recognized as one of the perils of stu-
dious minds engaged in a practical profession. True,
the opposite peril also exists ; but it besets only indolent
minds. Mental indolence finds a very cheap pabulum
in underrating scholastic learning. But studious men
are tempted on the side of their scholastic tastes. We
need to see the relations of the two in some approach
to equilibrium. We will not say with Patrick Henry,
" Sir, it is not books, it is men, that we must study ; "
but we say, " Books and men we must study."
A young man once inquired of me, " Can you direct
me to a book which shall teach me to write a sermon ? "
I receive letters of inquiry founded on the same ideal
of homiletic discipline. " No," must the answer be .
" there is no such book. From the nature of the sub-
ject there can be none." Preaching is one of the arts
of life, — as much so as the use of the telegraph. It
never can be learned as an abstract science only. From
books may be learned principles, nothing more. Leo-
17
18 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. h.
tures can portray the theory of preaching, nothing else.
Criticism is that theory in fragments.
The peril here named is often aggravated by an
excess of the conservative temperament. This entices
men of books and schools often to live as if the acqui-
sition and classification of printed knowledge were the
chief object of life, rather than the growth and the use
of character. The clergy, therefore, are often charged,
and sometimes justly, with reverence for the past at
the expense of the present and in distrust of the future.
One of the most seductive positions which can be of-
fered to a scholar is a fellowship in a large and ancient
university. But scarcely could a more perilous position
be accepted by a man, who, like a clergyman, looks
forward to a practical profession as the work of his life.
Whatever has been once crystallized and labeled in
our cabinet of thought, we are tempted to prize at the
cost of those creations which are still in the fluid state,
and in the seething process before our eyes. Clerical
tastes, therefore, often need a counterbalance to the
conservative temperament. We must remember that
a vast scene in the drama of human history is now
acting. We and our cotemporaries are the dramatis
personoe. A link in the chain of historic causes and
effects is now forging.
Specially should this be borne in mind, that divine
communications to the world have always been made
through the medium of real life. Living men live a
great truth, and so truth comes to the birth. The
Bible it almost wholly history and biography. Ab-
stract knowledge is given in it only as interwoven
with the wants and the experiences of once living gen-
erations. God took out of the circle of universal his-
LECT. II.] TRUTH IN LIVING MEN. 19
tory a single segment, and the result is a revelation.
Men lived under special divine superintendence and
illumination, and the product is — a Bible.
So all the great truths which have moved the world
have been lived. They have been struck out by collis-
ion of thought with the living necessities of the world.
Monotheism exists only as an experience vital to living
men: it has come into being as a revolt from living
idolatries. Liberty is a possession sprung from the
pressure of living despotisms. True theory in all de-
partments of civilized culture is a life. It has grown
out of the brooding of thought over an experience of
living barbarism. Scholarship, therefore, is always the
23upil of Providence when it is the leader of men. It
must be studious always of Providence in the experi-
ence of living generations, if it would hold its leader-
ship. That mind lags behind Providence which studies
only the past. It is always a little too late in its opin-
ions, its tastes, its culture, and therefore in its power of
adaptation to uses.
Why should we not feel for the nineteenth century
somewhat of the respect which men of the twenty-ninth
will feel for it ? Why not place the ages abreast with
each other in their chances for rank in our literary
regard ? Studying in this manner the phases of a liv-
ing civilization, we shall surely learn something which
no records of a defunct civilization can teach us. No
generation of men, in God's plan, lives for nothing.
Every generation is a positive quantity in the world's
problem. It adds something to the knowledge or the
power of the world which its predecessors never knew.
The world's life is thus a growth, always a growth,
without retrogression and without pause. We should
20 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. ii.
not allow ourselves, then, to undervalue for oratorical
discipline the study of living men, through a morbid
reverence for books as the sacred repositories of the
past. "Books and men, men and books," should be
our motto.
This view is enforced by the fact that accumulation
is not the chief object of a scholarly life: if it were,
we should never have been fated to spend one-third
of our lives in sleep. The great object of life, and
therefore of culture, is character, — the growth, the
exercise, the use, of character. We gain, surely, as vig-
orous a character, and as much of it in amount, from
the study of men as from that of books. No culture
can be symmetrical which is restricted to either. Each
needs the other as its complement.
It should be further remarked, that symmetry of
culture in tliis respect is essential to a hopeful courage
in the ministry. A minister who studies only the past
is almost sure to be distrustful of the future, and de-
spondent of the present. He sees the future in a false
perspective : therefore to him the former times were
always better than these, and the future is doomed to
be worse than either. He is an incorrigible pessimist.
Two clergymen, once companions in this seminary, met,
after twenty years of labor in the ministry, in which
both had had a fair measure of success. Said one in a
brisk, cheery tone, " I have a hard life of it, but I
enjoy a hard life. It pays to have a hard life. I have
such a glorious trust in the future ! " Said the other,
unconsciously sinking his tone to the habit of his mind,
" I have a hard life too. I try to endure it patiently,
but I shall be glad when it is over. The future looks
dark, very dark, to me. My chief satisfaction is in the
21
LECT. II.] POrULAR IDEA OF A CLERGYMAN. '
past." This man was the more learned of the two, but
he had worn out his courage by excessive conservatism.
He was weary and footsore from walking backward.
A few years later he was gathered to the fathers with
whom his mental life had been buried for twenty years.
His friend, I think, still lives ; and, if so, I venture to
affirm that he still has a hard life, and enjoys it ^ as
hopefully as ever. Such men never grow old. Which
of the two men illustrates the better ideal of a clerical
scholar ? Which has been worth the most to the world ?
Which has the most brilliant record of self-culture to
carry into eternity ?
4. Enthusiasm in the study of men should be stimu-
lated by that which is well known to be, in this respect,
the popular idea of a clergyman.
The popular conception of a clergyman is that he is,
ex officio, in respect to the knowledge of mankind, an
ignoramus. Be it true or false, this is the popular
notion of the clerical character. It produces not a
little of that feeling towards the clergy which vibrates
between amusement and contempt. In the popular
faith we belong to a race of innocents. If not all
Vicars of Wakefield, we are cousins-german to that
reverend greenhorn. Men of the world feel it to be
refreshing when an able preacher breaks loose from the
hereditary conventionalisms of the clerical guild, and
thinks and talks and dresses and acts as they do.
This popular notion is, of course, a caricature ; yet
to some extent the habits of the clergy foster it. For
instance, no other body of men are in so much danger
of excessive seclusion from the world as are the clergy.
Relics of the theory on which clerical celibacy was
founded yet linger among the ideas which clergymen
22 • MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. n.
have of the clerical office. We do not avow it, yet
many feel a special reverence for a celibate minister.
So long as the Romish clergy keep alive that fiction
in the persons of godly and faithful men, some Protes-
tant ministers will make unconscious concessions to it.
The idea of a priesthood, also, yet remains in the
Protestant conception of a clergy. So long as the
Church of England keeps alive that notion, and makes
it respectable by the culture and the industry and the
piety of her clergy, the ministry of other churches will
insensibly be drawn towards it. Seclusion from men
for the sake of communion with God is the conception
which lies at the bottom, not only of many of the popu-
lar ideas about the ministry, but of some of the notions
which the ministry entertain of themselves.
One consequence of this drift of things is, that the
ministry often stand aloof from the real world. Men
often do not act themselves out in our presence.
They do not express all their opinions in our hearing.
Principles and practices grow up in a community, and
pass unnoticed by the ministry for years, in some cases,
because the ministry know nothing of their existence.
For illustration, take the change which has been
going on for the last twenty years in the Christian
theory of amusements. That change is a very signifi-
cant one. It is one to which the ministry, whenever
they recognize it, will find that they must yield some-
thing of the clerical theory of fifty years ago. Yet
one may well be surprised at the apathy and apparent
ignorance of some of our ministry on the subject. A
certain Methodist conference once adopted , a minute
against the playing of croquet, and were supported in
it by so clear-headed a man as President Finney ; ap-
LECT. II.] WASTE OF CLERICAL POWER. 23
parently ignoring tlie fact that Christian opinion in a
multitude of our churches onl}^ laughs at such relics
of a monastic age. The rising generation are in some
danger of being swept into an extreme of license in
popular amusements, for the want of an intelligent
handling of the subject by their ministry.
The use of tobacco is not a sign of a heavenly mind.
But that was a woful diagnosis of the condition of
eaithly minds which led an American publishing so-
ciety to bear its written testimony against tobacco at
the very time when men were boiling over at the re-
fusal of that society to utter its testimony against
American slavery. "What is this Christianity," men
asked, "which shuts its eyes to the public sale of a
woman on the auction-block, and opens them so very
wide at a pipe in the laboring-man's mouth?" Such
misuses of Christian truth involve a cost to the cause
of Christ which would bankrupt it if it were any other
than the cause of Christ. In ways which I have not
time to detail, changes may come upon the opinions
and temper of a people, which a secluded clergy may
not detect till those changes develop themselves in
some overt revolution at which we stand aghast.
In milder form the same error shows itself in the
fact that the theory of religious life taught in some
pulpits is not recognized by the people as a reality.
That is one of the saddest illustrations of waste in
clerical power, in which the people quietly shove aside
the teaching of the pulpit as nothing but perfunctory
deliverances. The preacher is imagined to preach
them because it is his business to do it, he is paid
for doing it : not that he believes it, not that he
expects the people to believe it, as a matter of heart
24 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. u.
and life ; but it is the proper outflow of professional
routine. Is it not sometimes obvious that the theory
of the pulpit has no even approximate representative
in a living church ? Do not instances occur in which
preachers themselves, who are vicegerents of God in
the pulpit, do not meet the people out of it as if they
expected their viceroyal authority to be heeded, nor
as if they were at all aware of the fact that it is
not heeded in real life ? Souls are lost, for which some-
body must give account, by means of the contract
which the people sometimes feel between the intense
fidelity of the preacher in the pulpit and the apparent
obliviousness of it all by the man out of the pulpit.
5. Tliis defect lies at the foundation of that notion
of clerical character which is most common in the lit-
erature of popular fiction. The clergyman of literary
fiction is the secular parson. He is a priest, or some-
thing equivalent, whose business is to perform certain
official functions, and nothing more. He plods in rou-
tine ; his preaching is routine ; his prayers are routine ;
his parochial service is routine; his whole life is rou-
tine. The vital, rather the fatal, point is, that his life is
chiefly outside of the life of liis parishioners. They feel
no sense of reality in any thing that comes from him
to themselves. Substantially they live and die without
him, except that he baptizes their children, and buries
their dead. He may be a fox-hunter, and it shall make
no difference that reaches them. If he is of upright
character, he is an innocuous saint, who is but half a
man. He knows nothing of this world, and he has no
business here when men have any earnest work on hand.
In whatever the people feel to be a reality such a cler
gyman is always in the way.
LECT. II.] THE CLERGYMAN OF FICTION. 25
An engraving was exhibited for sale in London not
long ago, in which a nobleman was pictured in the last
gasp of life, having been fatally injured in the hunting-
field. By his bedside stands a white-haired but ruddy-
faced and smirking clergyman in gown and bands, with
closed prayer-book under his arm. His professional
duty to the dying man is over. His eager face shows
that the departing soul is forgotten in his interest in
the story of the hunt, which is going on in the chamber
of death. A caricature, this, doubtless; but could it
ever have found spectators to enjoy it, or a purchaser
to pay for it, if it had no original in real life ? Carica-
tures which men laugh at and pay their money for are
caricatures of something.
So is it with the parson of literary fiction. He is not
nearly so vital a character in the affairs of life as an old
Roman augur was. The augur did something to the
purpose of real life. He told the people when to fight
a battle, when to raise a siege, when to launch a fleet.
The clergyman of fiction has no such dignity. Doubt-
less the clergyman of fiction is an exaggeration. Upon
large numbers of both the Romish and Protestant clergy
it is a libel. Still, that it exists is evidence that more
or less foundation for it exists. We give occasion to
such a caricature by every word and act and silent
usage by which we suffer the pulpit to become a subli-
mated institution, aloof by its elevation or its refine-
ment from the life men are actually living, the thoughts
they are thinking, the habits of feeling they are indul-
ging, and the pursuits in which they are expending the
force of their being.
An opinion was reported to me a few years ago as
coming from the superintendent of the police of one of
26 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. ii.
our Atlantic cities, to this effect ; that, so far as his
observation went, there was no other claus of men who
knew so little of real life as the clergy. This judgment
was not uttered in bitterness of feeling. I did not
understand that the author of it belonged to that class
of men, who are not few in any large community, who
are best known as haters of ministers. He spoke from
his experience of the phase of society with which he was
most familiar. Whatever might be true of the clergy
elsewhere, down there where he saw men and women
in need of those influences which the clergy are sup-
posed to represent he thought they were the least effec-
tive workers. They were easily imposed upon. They
started impracticable methods of working. They could
not get access to the vicious and degraded. I, of course,
do not indorse this criticism. I give it as one of the
waifs indicating what the world says and believes about
us. We need to face the facts of the popular theory as
they are.
Further : it should be observed, in illustration of the
same point, that portraits of character given in the pul-
pit sometimes do not seem to the people to be true to
real life. Preachers often paint character in the general.
Depravity is affirmed and proved as depravity is in the
abstract, not as it is softened and adorned by Christian
civilization. Piety is illustrated as sainthood, not as it
is deformed by infirmity and sin. Hearers sometimes,
therefore, seem to themselves to be described as demons,
when they know that they are not such, and other
hearers to be described as saints, when they know that
they are no more such. Have you not listened to ser-
mons which no living man who knows what the world
is would be likely to accept as true to life ? Such work
LECT. II.] POLITICAL PREACHING. 27
in the pulpit appears to hearers as a work of art. It is
a fancy sketch. It may be praised or censured, as one
would criticise the Dying Gladiator, by the very men
of whom it ought to have been a breathing likeness.
It has been said of the old New-England ministers,
that they knew being in general more thoroughly than
they knew man in particular. So the modern world
often believes of the modern preacher, that he knows
man in the abstract more thoroughly than he knows men
individually. A consequence of this popular idea of the
ministry is a widening of the distance between the pul-
pit and the pew. Sometimes you will find the laity
settled comfortably in the conviction that the pulpit
does not mean to reach them. They may live as they
list, and may repose in their immunity from rebuke ;
and yet their clergy shall be firing the shot of a sound
theology, or intoning the periods of a venerable liturgy,
over their heads all the while.
6. This sense of security from the aims of the pulpit
is often at the foundation of the antipathy of hearers to
that which they call "political preaching." Generally
that antipathy is morbid. They are so unused to feeling
the ministries of the clergy as a reality touching the
vital affairs of life, that when, on the eve of a national
crisis, they listen to a sermon on the duty of Christian
citizens, they are disturbed by it as an innovation. It
breaks up the repose they have been accustomed to
enjoy in the sanctuary. To many good men it appears
sacrilegious to discuss such mundane affairs so near to
the sacramental table. They call it desecration of the
pulpit. What does this mean, but a confession that
they have been so long used to regarding the pulpit as
standing on the confines of another world, that it is a
28 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. u.
novelty to them when it presumes to concern itself with
the affairs of this world by any such methods as to
make itself felt ?
This is one of the most astonishing distortions of Chris-
tian opinion which our age has witnessed. The extreme
of it came to my notice, a few years before the civil war,
in the case of a very worthy man, and an advocate of
reticence in the church on the question of American
slavery. To test his principle in the matter, I inquired
of him whether he thought it the duty of Northern
Christians to send preachers to Utah. " Certainly," was
the reply. " What should a preacher do in Utah?" —
"Visit the people, hold meetings, preach, as he would
elsewhere." — " But what about polygamy? " — " He
should let that alone." — "Do you mean to say that a
preacher should go among a people who are living in
a state of legalized adultery, and be silent upon that
sin ? " — " Yes." — " Then, what would you have him
preach about ? " — " The gospeV
The courage of the man was refreshing. But what
of the opinion? An instance not dissimilar came to
my knowledge in Western New York on the day of the
national fast following the assassination of President
Lincoln. On the morning of that day the pastor of
one of the churches in the village had ventured to
utter in his sermon a few very moderate and saintly
words, somewhat in the style of a bishop's benediction,
on the guilt of rebellion to the powers that be. The
language was not positive enough to disturb any but
a morbid mind ; but it ruffled the placidity of some of
the audience very perceptibly. It was the theme of
considerable comment after the service. Said one who
had heard it, " That was a bold sermon, a very bold
LECT. II.] THE MISSION OF COMFORT. 29
sermon." I ventured to suggest that it might have
been bolder without disturbing Enoch. The reply of
my companion was, " It was a great deal for us to hear.
We are not used to hearing any thing from our pulpit
that means anybody.'" Contrast this theory of the
pulpit with the observation of Coleridge : " If I were a
preacher at St. Paul's in London, I would not preach
against smuggling ; but, if I were a preacher in a village
of wreckers on the coast, see if I would preach against
any thing else I "
Why should not the usage of the pulpit be such, that,
as a matter of course, hearers shall understand that we
mean somebody ? Why should not preaching be always
so truthful in its biblical rebuke, so intelligent in its
knowledge of men, so stereoscopic in its power to
individualize character, so resonant in its reponses to
the human conscience, that hearers shall be unable not
to understand that we mean somebody? The pulpit
should be a battery, well armed and well worked.
Every shot from it should reach a vulnerable spot
somewhere. And to be such it must be, in every sense
of the word, well manned. The gunner who works it
must know what and where the vulnerable spots are.
He must be neither an angel nor a brute. He must be
a scholar and a gentleman, but not these only. He
must be a man, who knows men, and who will never
suffer the great tides of human opinion and feeling to
ebb and flow around him uncontrolled because un-
observed.
7. Not only in the way of rebuke does the pulpit
often fail in its mission, through the want of a masterly
acquaintance with mankind. Often the failure is more
marked in respect to its mission of comfort. If there
30 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. ii.
is one thing more obvious than another in the general
strain of apostolic preacliing, it is the preponderance of
words of encouragement over those of reproof and
commination. In no other thing did inspired preach-
ers disclose their inspired knowledge of human condi-
tions more clearly. The world of to-day needs the same
adaptation of the pulpit to its wants. We preach to a
struggling and suffering humanity. Tempted men and
sorrowing women are our hearers. Never is a sermon
preached, but to some hearers who are carrying a load
of secret grief. To such we need to speak as to " one
whom his mother comforteth." What delicacy of touch,
what refinement of speech, what tenderness of tone,
what reverent approach as to holy ground, do we not
need to discharge this part of a preacher's mission ! and
therefore what rounded knowledge of human conditions!
Is it a cynical judgment of the pulpit to affirm that
in our times it has reversed the apostolic proportions
of preaching in this respect? It is vastly easier to
denounce rampant sin than to cheer struggling virtue.
Preaching to the ungodly is more facile than preaching
to the church. And in preaching to the church it is
less difficult to reprove than to commend, to admonish
than to cheer, to threaten than to help. Hence has
arisen, if I do not misjudge, a disproportioned amount
of severe discourse, which no biblical model warrants,
and which the facts of human life seldom demand from
a Christian pulpit. Look over any large concourse of
Christian worshipers, number the stern and anxious
faces among them, — faces of men and women who are
in the thick of life's conflict. Where shall the cunning
hand be found to reach out and keep from falling these
weary ones? Very early in life, commonly, does the
LECT. II.] POPULAR CRITICISM OF THE PULPIT. 31
great struggle of probation begin. The buoyant joy of
youth is short lived.
" Shades of the prison-house begin to close
Upon the growing hoy"
Probation^ more than any other word in the language,
tells the story of every human life. With this one fea-
ture of human experience the mission of the pulpit has
chiefly to do. Above all other things, therefore, in the
clerical character, this world craves the power of help-
fulness. The Master walking on the sea in the night,
and stretching forth liis hand to the sinking Peter, is
the emblem of that which a Christian preacher must be
in every age, if he would speak to real conditions, and
minister to exigent necessities.
Intelligent laymen are often sensible of waste in the
ministrations of the pulpit, growing out of the want,
either of knowledge, or of tact in adapting them to the
facts of human experience. The conversation of such
laymen will often disclose this. Their criticisms, it is
true, are to be received with caution, as are all the
popular criticisms of the clergy. They are sometimes
thrust upon our notice by vain men, by men who ignore
the real claims of the pulpit upon their respect, occa-
sionally by men whom it is not uncharitable, and may
not be unwise, to rebuke for their unconscious envy of
ministerial prerogatives. It is generally to be presumed
that the clergy, like masters in other professions, know
their own business better than such critics know it.
But, with all reasonable deductions, it will be found
that this sense of waste in the pulpit is felt by men of
sufficient character, and in sufficient numbers, to deserve
attention. They believe, whether truly or not, that the
32 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect^. n.
failure of the pulpit to reach certain classes of society
is attributable to a distance between the pulpit and the
pew which a more thorough knowledge of men would
do away with.
Said one of these lay critics, speaking of the sermons
of a certain pastor in Massachusetts, " Mr. B always
seems to me to be just about to begin, to get ready, in
prodigious earnest to do something ; but the something
never looms in sight." The criticism was true. The
radical defect in that pastor's sermons was not want of
culture, not want of piety, not want of power innate ;
but, relatively to the character of his hearers, it was an
excess of scholasticism. He commonly preached, either
from or at the last book he had read, often at the last
thrust of skepticism from " The Westminster Review."
This he did to an audience made up chiefly of tradesmen
and mechanics, and operatives in a factory, who never
heard of " The Westminster Review " outside of their
pastor's sermons. To them he seemed always to begin
a great way off.
LECTURE III.
STUDY OF MEN, CONTINUED. — ECCENTRIC PREACHERS.
— OPPOSITE RELATIONS OF LITERATURE AND THE
PULPIT TO THE MASSES. — POPULAR REVOLUTIONS
AND THE EDUCATED CLASSES.
8. Continuing the train of thought introduced in
the preceding Lectures, I venture upon another sugges-
tion, which to some may seem questionable. Let it pass
for what it is worth. It is, that we should be watcliful
of the ministries of certain eccentric clergymen.
In every age of religious awakening, there is a class
of preachers who break away from the conventionali-
ties of the pulpit lawlessly. They trample upon time-
honored usages. They are apt to handle irreverently
the opinions and the policy of the fathers. As a conse-
quence, they originate new methods of preaching. In
many respects they do evil. Whether the average of
their influence is evil or good may be an open question.
Such preachers, though not safe models for imitation,
are valuable subjects of homiletic study. Though they
may be heretical in doctrine, they furnish instructive
hints to sounder men. Specially they are apt to preach
as men coming down to and into the homes of men.
They have the knack of making men believe that preach-
ing is a reality to them. The impression they make is
that of a business of real life. Better men and wiser
33
34 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. m.
preachers looking on may learn things from them which
shall both broaden and deepen the reach of the pulpit.
Those most dissimilar to them may be roused by them
to feel the inanity of some things which were invalua-
ble when they were original, but which the world has
outlived, and which are now effete. The tendencies of
the clerical mind to live upon routine are sometimes
checked by one such comet in the clerical firmament.
A popular critic, a few years ago, observed that not
one in twenty of the newspapers of the week before
had failed to make some allusion to the Rev. A
B . When that can be said of any clergyman who
has not committed forgery, and said after he has been
in the public eye for twenty-five years, it is a sign of
power in the man. Such a ministry as his is worth
studying. It is an egregious folly to imitate him : his
sermons no other man can reproduce. But it is impos-
sible that they should not contain elements which can
be transfused into the preaching of other men with
advantage. We may well give time and thought to
the ministry of any man who holds together by thou-
sands, and for years, keen, clear-headed laymen in the
church, and who reaches a corresponding class of minds
outside of the church. The ministry of any such
preacher is a legitimate object of homiletic study, what-
ever we may think or suspect of the man.
On the other hand, we have reason to be anxious
about any ministry which is visibly producing no im-
pression, — no evil, no good, perceptibly. I do not say
that such an appearance is always real. But it should
cause anxiety : it should set a preacher to searching for
the facts, and to the righting of errors. That is never
the normal attitude of the pulpit in which it barely
LKCT. iii.J PREACHING IN TIMES OF EXCITEMENT. 35
holds its own. In such a state of things it will gener-
ally be found that something new in the methods of the
pulpit is practicable and wise. We should keep our
minds, then, in a receptive mood towards the apparent
successes of preachers unlike ourselves. Prove those
successes, hold fast only that which can be proved ;
but study them. Be sure that you reject nothing that
is proved.
An objection to the views here advocated deserves a
moment's notice. We are said to be living in an age
of unnatural excitements ; and the pulpit, it is believed,
ought not to cater to them. " Safe men " tell us that
we must not be whirled out of the old orbits of the
planets by cometary and centrifugal attractions.
To this it should be observed, in rejoinder, that the
charge may be true, without damage to the clerical
policy here commended. It may be that we are living
in an abnormal current of social changes. It may be
that we are passing through a period of transition in
history in which one sea is pouring itself through a
narrow channel into another, like Erie into Ontario.
Niagara, therefore, may be the fit emblem of our modern
life. We may be approaching very near to the last
times. The world may be moving with a rush wliich is
its ultimate momentum. But one of the first princi-
ples of Christianity is to take men as it finds them and
where it finds them, and thus and there to adjust itself
to them. Its mission is to do for men all that it can do
under the disadvantages which sin or any other invin-
cible fact creates. A Christian pulpit can not wait for
men to come into a state in which they can receive its
ministrations gracefully, tastefully, in a scholarly way,
or even contemplatively and candidly. Least of all
86 MEN AND BOOKS. fLECT. m.
has the pul^^it any right to refuse to be received in any
other way.
A preacher's first business is to find men, to go
where they are, and then to speak to them as they are,
and speak so as to be heard. We must speak to them
anywhere and anyhow, so that at the least we get a
hearing. That is not wisdom, it is not piety, it is not
reverence for venerable things, it is stagnation, it is
timidity, often it is mental indolence, sometimes it is a
refined but intense selfishness, which holds a preacher
still in ancient ruts of ministration through fear of
ministering to unnatural excitements. We had better
do some things wrong than to do nothing.
9. An educated ministry needs to consider the study
of men for rhetorical culture by the side of another
fact ; which is, that the literature of the world is not
constructed for the masses of society. This is true of
the great body of literature in any language. Books
for the masses are comparatively a modern idea.
(1) The old theory on which national literatures
have all been founded was, that readers must inevitably
be few. The chief popular forms of any classic litera-
ture are the ballad and the drama. Prose literature
has not had till recently much of the popular element
in any language. In the main, it has never been de-
signed either to represent the common mind, or to be
read by the common people. The ballad and the
drama also have not been created for readers. They
were designed, the one to be sung, and the other to be
witnessed on the stage. This was for the very neces-
sary reason that they grew up at a time when the
people did not know how to read, and were not expect-
ed to become readers. It was a time when in England
LECT. ni.] CHAKACTER OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 37
it was sufficient to save a man from the gallows that
he knew how to read. This was English law till the
time of George IV. Therefore select classes of mind
have been the object aimed at in English literature.
(2) The reading classes have been select not only
in numbers, but in character. They have been exclu-
sives. They have been contracted fragments of nations.
Their distinction has been, that they were unlike the
bulk of the people, and not in sympathy with the people.
Their exclusiveness was their glory. Their own social
position demanded the popular ignorance as a back-
ground. Authors treated them as a superior class.
They were cajoled by an obsequious recognition of
their caste. Both authors and readers held themselves
as retainers of the nobility with an abjectness which
often intensified the contempt they all felt for the herd
of the people. It is a humiliating fact ; but such were
the soil and the atmosphere from which the bulk of
modern literature grew.
(3) The English literature has a larger infusion than
any other of the popular element; but it is not and
never has been thoroughly popular. Such a literature
is yet to be created. Look into the prefaces of the
standard books in our language, turn to the correspond-
ence of authors, peruse the books themselves, and you
will discover how oblivious authors have been of the
actual numerical majority of the nation. Read John
Foster's essay on " Popul'ar Ignorance." In the dialect
of the English press the " reading public " and " the
nation" have never been synonymous, nor approxi-
mately so. Even so late as when Addison and Swift
were delighting a select public of readers, the masses of
the English people never heard of them. The masses
38 MEN AND BOOKS. fi^Ecr. in.
at that period found their chief excitements at country
fairs and boxing-matches and dog-fights and bull-bait-
ings. The only gleam of literary thought which found
its way to them, aside from the pulpit, shone from the
footlights of the strolling theaters.
John Foster records the following fact as well au-
thenticated to his judgment by direct testimony from
that golden age of English letters: On one Sunday-
morning, in one of the rural churches, the service was
read with unusual rapidity, and every legal expedient
adopted to shorten the time during which the people
should be detained in the house of God. At the close
of the service the officiating clergyman gave publicly
his reason for thus abbreviating the duties of the hour.
He said that " Neighbor B " was about to bait a bull
in the afternoon, and he wished to give the people ample
time to prepare for the enjoyment of the scene. So
distant from the enjoyment of the literature of England
were the masses of the English people.
One reason which has made the poetry of Homer the
favorite of English scholarship is the intensely aristo-
cratic spirit which breathes through the Iliad and the
Odyssey. Not a trace of the democracy of literature
is found in Homer, nor indeed, so far as I know, in any
ancient poetry, except the Greek drama and the poetry
of the Hebrews: hence the English aristocracy intui-
tively exalt Homer in their estimate of libraries. Eng-
lish noblemen translate Homer, and write laudatory
criticisms upon him. It may reasonably be doubted
whether the intrinsic merits of the Odyssey and the
Iliad would ever have lifted them to the rank they hold
in English criticism, if they had not chimed in so harmo-
niously with aristocratic tastes in English scholarship.
tECT. m.] ENGLISH AUTHORS EXCLUSIVE. 39
(4) In the history of English literature the rt aders
who stood between authors and the people at large did
not by any means stand midway between. They were
much nearer to the guild of authors than to the level
of the nation : therefore they were not good conductors
of intellectual stimulus from the upper to the nether
regions. A gulf as impassable almost as that which
separates Dives and Lazarus shut off the masses of the
people from the privileges, the occupations, the sympa-
thies, and the ideas of the authors. The project of
sinking a shaft of intelligence from above down into
the torpid strata of the national mind was never origi-
nated by the old standard productions of our language.
No trace of it is to be found in the general conception
of the mission of literature, even so late as a hundred
years ago. Publishers are yet living who remember
when such an idea was in its infancy. They can recall
the time when a sale of five thousand copies of any thing
was deemed a prodigious success in their trade. The
sale of Walter Scott's works in his own lifetime — and
Scott died in 1832 — was deemed a miracle of literary
achievement, and it bankrupted his publishers, after
all. When the process of stereotyping plates was in-
vented, it was thought by the more conservative pub-
lishers to be of doubtful value, because the sale of so
few works would justify the expense of plates. But
now a publisher hesitates to accept a manuscript which
is not worth stereotyping. Books the sale of which is
less than five thousand copies are regarded as the small
enterprises of the press.
The facts here noticed should be taken into the ac-
count in judging of the limited rewards which some of
the most illustrious English authors have received in
40 MEN AND BOOKS. [leot. m.
their own lifetime. Critics are fond of contrasting the
contemporary with the posthumous fame of authors.
We are reminded, as if it were an anomaly, that no
collected edition of Shakspeare's plays was demanded
during his life ; that Milton received but five pounds
for " Paradise Lost ; " that Bishop Butler, the most pro-
found of English prelates, was not known outside of
his own diocese; that Spinoza's works, though they
played an important part in revolutionizing the philoso-
phy of Europe, brought no income to the, author. Mr.
Froude says that it is only by accident that a work of
genius becomes immediately popular. I doubt this as-
sertion. What is there, what has there ever been, in the
great works of our literature which is fitted to make
them popular ? They are not addressed to the people,
not fitted to the popular taste or comprehension. To
this day the actual readers of Milton are few. Those
who heartily enjoy Shaksj^eare are but a fragment of
the reading public. Even on the stage, no manager
succeeds in resuscitating the great dramatist for any
long period. Let a work of genius, like " The Pilgrim's
Progress," be made for the people, and the people recog-
nize it. But the great bulk of our literature is made
for the few ; and it has its reward in being appreciated
by the few.
A change is in progress. A popular literature, good
and bad, is in the process of growth. But the old
standard literature of our language, that which has
grown venerable with centuries, that which contains
the classic models of English thought and speech, and
that to which, therefore, all scholarly minds turn for
literary stimulus and refreshment, is a literature, which,
for the most part, has known no such thing as the peo-
LECT. III.] PERIL TO CLERICAL TASTES. 41
pie in the process of its creation. It does not represent
the people ; it is not of the people ; it has never lived
among the people ; it is not dear to the people ; it is not
known by the people.
(5) The exclusive character of national literatures
exposes the clerical mind to obvious peril in respect to
clerical sympathy with the people. It is clear, on the
face of things, that such a literature must be in some
respects what the Christian pulpit ought not to be, and
that a successful pulpit must, in some other respects, be
what such a literature is not. Yet it is equally plain
that a mind formed by such a literature alone is in
danger of acquiring tastes which are averse to popular
modes of thought, to popular habits of feeling, and to
the study of popular necessities. A preacher may so
study such a literature as to be dwarfed in his aptitudes
for the pulpit. If he forms his mental character by the
study of such books alone, he will inevitably reverse
the process of his education for the ministry. Disin-
tegration may take place in his natural tastes for the
popular service. Culture itself may unfit him for the
pulpit, except as an arena for literary achievement.
I have known instances in which this disorganizing
process has been fatal. A student's clerical tastes have
been demoralized. He has become disinclined, and
therefore unfitted, to the work of the ministry, by an
abuse of the very process which was designed to fit
him for it. He has. shrunk back on approaching the
practical labors of the pulpit, through the force of
acquired tastes which had the tyranny of instincts over
his moral purposes. Such a revolution in the character
of a candidate for the pulpit is usually irremediable.
The best thing we can do with him is to make a pro-
42 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. m.
fessor of liini. The inspiration of the pulpit has gope
out of him to return no more.
We need to face this fact squarely. The very disci-
pline of literary culture to which we subject ourselves
in a course of collegiate and theological training is at-
tended with this incidental peril. Like all other great
benefits of culture, literary discipline is gained at costs.
It becomes us, therefore, to know that the danger exists,
and that, for full growth in fitness to the pulpit, we
need a study of men to which no extant literature
invites us.
(6) We should never lose sight of the fact, that, while
there is a literature of the pulpit and in the pulpit,
the pulpit still has objects which no other medium of
literary expression has. The pulpit is identified with
the people in the very groundwork of its construction.
It stands in among the people. It exists for the people.
It depends for all its legitimate uses and successes upon
the sympathies of the people. It reminds one of the
Pantheon at Rome, which stands down among the shops
and hovels of the poorest poor, partly buried in the
rubbish of ages, but, for all that, a symbol of the history
of a great people for ever.
The pulpit is not designed for select audiences. Its
object is not to furnish entertainment to luxurious
minds, or scholarlike enjoyment to tranquil minds. Its
object is to meet the necessities of minds, which, for the
most part, must be engrossed in a care for their neces-
sities. The pulpit addresses chiefly the millions who
are struggling for a living, and who find the struggle so
severe, that books are as dreamlike a luxury as a coach
and livery. A man of books ranks in their minds with
millionaires. On this great low-ground of society the
I.ECT. III.] THE GREEK DRAMA. 43
pulpit stands alone. Literature lias no other depart-
ment, which in its very nature, as growing out of the
amis for which it exists, is so intensely popular as that
of the pulpit. The modern newspaper, even, does not
bear comparison with it in this respect. The news-
paper does not strike so deep as the pulpit does in its
theory of popular necessities. It can not, therefore,
reach so profound and permanent a style of thought.
(7) The only thing I can recall which deserves to be
termed literature, which is at all suggestive of the pulpit
in the ideal on which it was constructed, is the old
Greek drama. The Greek drama was oral in the form
of its communication: so is the pulpit. The Greek
drama discussed the profoundest problems of human
destiny: so does the pulpit. The Greek drama ex-
pressed the ideas which lay deepest in the most enlight-
ened theology of the day : so does the pulpit. Above
all, the Greek drama existed for the people; and so
does the pulpit.
In this respect the Greek drama was exceptional to
almost all other ancient literature. The people of the
ancient cities of Greece were the auditors and the
judges of the drama of their times. The entire body
of the free citizens of Athens — not a literary coterie
alone, not the members of a university alone, not the
pupils of a school of philosophy only, not a set of
pleasure- seeking idlers, but the entire citizenship of the
metropolis — heard the plays of Sophocles and Euripi-
des. The accomplished professor of the Greek language
and literature in Amherst College is of the opinion
that probably Grecian women were permitted to attend
the exliibition of the tragic drama on the Greek stage,
iind that even the slaves were not forbidden to attend.
44 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. m.
The most magnificent triumphs of Grecian genius were
popular festivals. This department of Greek literature
grew up with the Greek people. Their minds awakened
it; their demands stimulated it; their tastes passed
judgment upon it ; their sympathies made it what it
was. So far as any Pagan literature could foreshadow
a Christian institution, the Greek drama foreshadowed
the Christian pulpit. It did so with an approach to
resemblance which has never been equaled by any
subsequent literature of equal dignity.
This idiosyncrasy of the pulpit, in comparison with
the great mass of the literatures of the world, should,
therefore, never be forgotten in the ardor of our literary
pursuits. The pulpit exists for the people. It depends
for its existence, in any broad growth, upon its union
with the popular sympathies.
10. The relations of the pulpit to the people are
affected, further, by the fact, that, in the moral history
of the world, great popular changes often take place
independently of the educated classes of mankind as
such.
This is a phenomenon in history which is exceed-
ingly prolific of suggestion. I am not confident that
the philosophy of it is wholly intelligible, nor that it
represents abstractly the normal method of the progress
of the race. But of the fact there can be no question
in the mind of any thoughtful observer of real life.
The fact is most obvious, in respect to changes for the
better, in ])opular sentiment. Evil works most fre-
quently from above downward, — from the head to the
heart of society. The bulk of mankind are more re-
ceptive of evil than of good from their superiors. A
licentious court can make a people licentious more
LECT. III.] THE CULTIVATED CLASSES. 45
readily than a moral court can make a people moral.
An infidel aristocracy can make a nation infidel more
easily than a Christian aristocracy can make a nation
Christian. The most destructive forms of evil do, in
fact, usually begin in high places, and work downward.
On the contrary, it very frequently happens that pro-
found moral movements for good begin low, and work
upward.
(1) Let us group the cultivated classes of mankind
for a moment, and observe how the fact stands. First
we have the class of royal and aristocratic birth, — the
class represented by the crown and the court. Then
comes the military class, represented by the sword.
•Then we have the literary class, strictly so called, —
the class represented by the university and the library.
Then follow the clerical, the legal, and the medical
classes, represented by the three liberal professions, to
which must be added, in our day the fourth profession,
the journalists, represented by the most powerful of all
printed literature, — the newspaper. To these succeed
the small but very influential class of artists, repre-
sented by painting, sculpture, and music.
Finally must be appended a class peculiar, for the
most part, to our own times, so far as it is distinct from
the rest. It consists of those whose chief distinction is
their wealth, and whose culture springs from the con-
sciousness of power which wealth creates, and from
the leisure which wealth renders practicable. This last
class have a refinement which is often diverse from that
of court, or school, or camp, or studio, or profession. It
is a refinement in which manners take the precedence
of mind. These several classes are all of them, in some
sense, educated. The idea of culture is prized among
46 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. hi.
them. We may, without essential error, speak of them
as the cultivated portions of mankind. Beneath them,
in respect to educated thinking and whatever else that
implies, lies the great bulk of the human race. Numeri-
cally estimated, these cultivated classes are but insig-
nificant fragments of the whole.
The point I wish now to emphasize is, that often
gjeat changes of moral sentiment take jDlace in that
vast low-ground of society, with which not one of these
educated classes, as such, has any visible connection.
Individuals from the educated classes are reached by
such changes, but not the classes as classes. Religious
awakenings of vast reach often start down there before
they become visible in the aerial regions above. Ad-
vanced ideas of liberty and of national policy, which
are rooted in moral principle, often exist in the popular
feeling down there, long before they have worked up
high enough to find the general voice to sjjeak them
from the cultivated strata of thought.
(2) We have a notable illustration of this truth in
the history of the antislavery controversy in this coun-
try. Looking back to it, now that the main question
is determined, do we not discover that the masses of
the people have been generally in advance of their
leaders on that subject? Where both classes lagged
behind the purposes of Providence, have not the many
been less distant in the rear than the few ? Have not
the intuitions of the people been, at almost any time,
more far-seeing than the statesmanship of the Senate ?
Have not the people been, at almost any time, ready
for progress which our wise men thought unsafe, but
wdiich God at length hurled us into, as if in the anger
of his exhausted patience?
LECT. III.] AJVIERICAN SLAVERY. 47
The masses of the people never heartily supported
the compromises which made up nearly the whole of
our statesmanship on the subject for half a century.
Compromise — that miserable burlesque of wisdom
where moral principles are at stake — was the sum
total of the vision of our wise men through all that
period ; but the instincts of the people were never
genial to it. When President Lincoln said, " If slavery
is not wrong, nothing is wrong," the conscience and
common sense of the people responded, " So say we
all." President Lincoln himself was a child of the low-
grounds. His ideas of political economy and of social
rights he got out of the woods. His nearest approach
to metaphysical culture was splitting rails. His knowl-
edge of books was almost limited to the Bible and
Shakspeare. All that he knew of history he learned
from Abbott's histories for children.
If the cultivated mind of our country had been more
childlike in its wisdom, and had followed the intima-
tions of Providence more swiftly, it would have had no
difficulty with the common mind in executing peacea-
bly the plans which God at last thrust upon the nation
in carnage. Carnage is not the normal and necessary
instrument of great revolutions. In this also the masses
of our people were right in their convictions. " Slavery
is wrong," said they, " and it must die ; but it can die
by peaceful means." In this conviction they were
nearer to the ultimate principles of God's government
of nations than were the few fanatical leaders who
ignored the reformatory potency of time. They were
nearer to the old Mosaic wisdom on the subject, — that
marvelous system of jurisprudence, to which we owe
so many germs of the world's latest and wisest states-
48 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. iit.
mansliip. History in future ages will tell this story
more truthfully than living chroniclers are now doing
it.
Even up to this hour, is it not the rude instincts of
the people which are taking the lead of political opinion
in the solution of those problems, consequent upon the
civil war, which have a moral and religious basis ? The
cultivated classes as a whole are not leading this
people : they are following. The real leaders are men
of the people, as distinct from, and to some extent op-
posed to, the men of culture. Such, at least, is the
horoscope as I read it. How, otherwise, could the phe-
nomenon ever have been possible, which we have wit-
nessed within the last decade, — that the government
of a great nation hung in suspense upon the votes of
a few negroes in the backwoods of Louisiana and the
everglades of Florida, who could not write their own
names, nor distinguish their ballots from circus-tickets ?
One is reminded often, in observing such phenomena,
of the declaration of the apostle, " Not many mighty,
not many noble, are called." It appears as if men of
culture did not generally read Divine Providence aright
till they are needed as leaders of great movements
which have, in the main, been originated without
them. After a certain growth of reforms we must
have the leadership, either of high intelligence, or, in
the absence of that, of miraculous inspiration. God
does not permanently abrogate the law by which the
superior governs the inferior mind ; but temporarily,
and when inspiration and miracle can not be interpo-
lated into the system of affairs, he does suspend that
law by making the low-grounds of society the birth-
place of great ideas.
LECTURE IV.
RELATIONS OF THE CLERGY TO EE VOLUTIONS OF
POPULAR OPINION, CONTINUED.
(3) The views already presented suggest, further
that sometunes popular revolutions of opinion beeonie
distorted and corrupt for the want of an educatea^
Christian leadership). Then come mutterings of anai>
chy. These, if not heeded, swell into belloTfings o
revolution. It is my conviction that ponderous ques
tions of right and wrong are now seething among thi
I masses of the nations, which have been started b}
truthful ideas. They are, at the bottom, legitimate
problems of Christian inquiry. They are such ques
tions as socialism strives frantically to answer. Among
them are the social problems which are chafing some
of the Southern States of our republic. In all the
great nations of Christendom questions of this nature
are threatening to turn the world upside down. A
blind sense of wrong is buried under the enormous
inequalities of our civilization, which the first influence
of Christianity tends to lash into frenzy over the first
principles of government and social order, with a reck-
lessness which breeds civil wars. Looking at the facts
as they are known and read of all men, and as they
are suffered by the great majority, liuman nature cries
out against them. It declares, that, if Christianity
49
50 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. iv.
means any thing, it means something ver}'- different
from this. Then follow, the world over, the questions,
'' What and why and how and wherefore," down to the
roots of things.
Yet this entire volume of popular questionings of
the drift of our civilization might be answered so as to
promote the peace of nations and the brotherhood of
races, if the educated mind of the world would accept
them as questionings which ought to be answered, in
stead of beating them down by a repressive conserva
tism, by pride of race, by the tyranny of wealth, and
by bayonets. Because those questions are ignored, or
falsely answered, by the educated classes, they continue
to inflame the unsatisfied mind below. That low-
ground of humanity, ignorant and debased as it is,
can not rid itself of them. It surges around them
angrily and blindly. The more obstinately the mind
above crowds them down, or holds still in contempt of
them, the more tempestuously, often deliriously, and in
the final result demoniacally, the mind below clamors
for a settlement of them. At length, in the fullness of
its times, the mind below breaks loose from estab-
lished institutions. The laws and usages of centuries
give way. Rabid diseases of opinion take the place of
healthy and quiescent faith, — all for the want of a
dispassionate, scholarly, Christian leadership.
(4) At the root of almost all the intoxicated de-
velopments of popular opinion, there is a truth. It is
a truth distorted, but still a truth ; a truth tainted by
error, but a truth nevertheless ; a truth bloated by
intemperate defenses, but a truth for all that. A mys-
terious power has set it fermenting in secret in the
inexpressible intuitions of ignorant minds, as if in tho
LECT. IV.] THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 61
bowels of the earth, where the sun never shines. It
must work its way up to light and air. If there is no
other way for its ascent, if the repressive forces above
are so ponderous and so compact that it can not lift
them off gently, then it must spout up volcanically. It
will not be smothered passively. A man buried alive
will beat the coffin-lid. So these undying truths, pent
up in the souls of ignorance and debasement, will
struggle for egress. They will find their way out
wherever they can discover the weakest spot in the
shell with which conservative society becomes crusted
over. The Providence of God certainly works some-
times in this seemingly anomalous neglect of the edu-
cated powers of the world.
I say " anomalous," because it is not the normal way
of Providence to ignore culture, or to work without it.
But sometimes, when culture, as represented in the
upper classes of great nations and ruling races, is false
to its mission, and treacherous to its origin, God starts
great truths into life m the hearts of the masses, not in
the heads of the few. He lets them work a long time
there, in a half blinded way, before the few discover and
embrace them.
An episode illustrative of this in literary history was
witnessed in the origin and early fate of the " Pilgrim's
Progress." Who wrote the " Pilgrim's Progress," and
where ? A tinker in Bedford jail. By whom, and why,
was the tinker shut up in Bedford jail ? The upper
classes of a great empire put him there to prevent his
preaching other such things as the immortal allegory.
And how was it received by contemporary opinion?
Thousands of colliers and peasants and humble trades-
men read it, and admired it, and loved it, long before
52 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. iv
the literary and social magnates of England found out
tliat it was literature, and that a great prophet was
born among them.
God's method of working is marvelously democratic.
If there is one idea which takes precedence of all
others in the divine choice of times, localities, instru-
ments, and methods, it is not the idea of rank, it is not
the idea of sect, it is not the idea of birth, it is not
the idea of culture : it is the idea of numbers. To
an aeronaut, at a very little distance above the earth,
mountains and valleys are indistinguishable. So, it
should seem, to the eye of God, distinctions of class are
invisible. Humanity is spread out as a plain. The
most attractive spots to the divine eye are those where
are to be seen the densest clusters of being. The apos-
tolic policy in laying the foundations of Christianity is
the divine policy through all time and the world over ;
'' beginning with Jerusalem," and advancing thence to
the conquest of the great cities of the world.
11. The object for which I dwell, perhaps at need-
less length, upon this peculiarity in the divine method
of procedure, is to observe specially that the natural
leaders of these movements of the popular mind which
are started by the first principles of religion are the
Christian ministry. The legitimate teachers of the
people in the ground-principles by which such move-
ments should be regulated are the ministry. Chris-
tianity has conservative as well as quickening and
progressive bearings upon social order, which it is the
pro vine* 3 of the ministry to teach. The wisest states-
manship of nations does not teach them in forms such
that the popular mind can take them in, and appreciate
the truth of them. It falls to the clergy to represent
JLECT. IV.] CLERICAL LEADERSHIP. 53
them in moral rather than in political principles, tend-
ing to the regulation of progress and the moderation of
change, and thus to the prevention of sanguinary
revolutions. The divinely chosen friends of the people
to do this service for them are the ministry. It is
theirs to win popular confidence, to calm popular pas-
sions, to restrain popular vices, and to teach neglected
virtues. It is theirs to teach popular rights as balanced
by popular duties. These duties find almost none to
proclaim them among the political leaders of the people.
They are such as these, — respect for superiors, obedi-
ence to authorities, charity to evil-doers, patience under
wrongs, freedom from envy, intrusting government to
intelligence and virtue, election of superiors rather than
equals to high places of trust and power. These things,
so vital to republican life, political chiefs, for the most
part, ignore. The only order of men who will or can
teach the people this divine balance of rights and duties
in self-government are the Christian ministry. Yet to
perform this mission wisely, or with any chance of
success, the ministry must know the people, must sym-
pathize with the people, must recognize the rights and
wrongs of social life ; and to do either of these they
must study the people.
Probably there is not a country- village in the land,
which has any considerable history, in which there is
not some mind, or group of minds, which represent the
kind of mental inquiry here described. They may be
within the church, but more probably are outside of
the church, yet are superior material for the growth
of the church. The pastor of such minds should be
beforehand with them. He may be assured that they
represent x movement which extends to other minds in
64 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. iv.
adjacent villages. The pulpit should be brought down
and planted alongside of them. The geographical
locality of the church should be in the midst of their
homes; and its structure should be such as to seem
homelike to them. But, most of all, the pastor should
be able to win them by his obvious knowledge of their
condition, and his friendly appreciation of their wants.
12. These suggestions naturally introduce another in
the same line of thought. It is that a certain portion
of the clergy of every generation seem either insensible
or hostile to popular movements of inquiry which have
their origin in Christian ideas.
(1) This, it should in justice be observed, is not true,
generally, of those portions of the clergy which are free
from State control. History will make distinction in
this respect between the ministry and the priesthood of
Clnistendom. Still, in the ministry of free churches,
the exception occurs frequently enough to indicate a
peril to clerical character and a hinderance to clerical
usefulness. It is not a very rare exception that the
clergy is represented by a man who suffers popular
inquiries, which are rooted in the gospel which he
preaches, and which therefore, as a Christian teacher,
he ought to understand and to answer, either to go by
him unheeded, or to encounter from him an unqualified
hostility. He thus permits the activity of the common
mind to outrun him in new channels of thought.
(2) Delay in assuming leadership of popular inquiries
often results in consigning the people to an infidel
leadership. Infidelity in this respect is often enlight-
ened, and to some extent, vitalized, by Christianity.
While the clergy are busy, as in the main they ought
to be, with teaching and applying the gospel in its
LECT. IV.] INFIDEL REFORMS. 55
spiritual relations to individuals, infidel lecturers and
writers, knowing nothing and caring nothing about the
salvation of souls, do detect the bearings of the gospel
on social questions. They often advance ahead of the
clergy in the public declaration of those bearings.
Hence comes to pass that phenomenon which history
repeats over and over, and which is so perplexing to a
candid observer ; viz., that the infidelity of a country or
an age seems to be wiser than the Christian ministry,
and more successful in obtaining the leadership of re-
forms which owe their origin to the gospel, yes, to the
preaching of the very men, some of whom fail at last
to assume their natural right of leadership in those
reforms.
(3) Sometimes the leadership of reforms which were
Christian in their origin becomes so identified with
skepticism in religion, that to follow it is to be treacher-
ous to Christ and to his church. Then, for a time, the
clergy are constrained by their religious convictions to
stand aloof from such reforms, lest they should degrade
the pulpit into an auxiliary to anarchic infidelity. That
is a fearfully false position in which to place the Chris-
tian ministry. Yet it may come about from a want of
alertness in the clerical mind to see the wants of the
popular mind seasonably, and to supply those wants by
assuming promptly the leadership which is the clerical
prerogative.
More than once, for instance, in the religious and
political history of Germany, popular liberty has been
so identified with infidelity, that the best Christian
minds throughout the empire have felt compelled to
range themselves on the side of despotic re-action on
the part of the government. The "Liberty party'*
56 MEN AKD BOOKS. Llect. iv.
were " Red Republicans," sympathizing with the Social-
ists of France, and the Carbonari of Italy, and the
Nihilists of Russia. They taught, as many of them
who are now refugees in this country are teaching, the
tyranny of property in land, the usurpation of marriage,
the inhumanity of the Christian religion, and the neces-
sity of abolishing the idea of God. In defense of these
monstrosities, they believed in no silken power of free
discussion, but in the musket and the guillotine. Law,
from God or man, w?.s despotism.
The consequence has been, that such men as Trend
lenburg and Hengstenberg, and with them and after
them the most eminent leaders of German thought in
both the Church and the State, have been driven, in
defense of social order, to sustain the government in the
establishment of, with one exception, the most rigid
military despotism in Europe. In this they have done
only what we should all have done in their place.
When things have come to such a pass that liberty
means anarchy, and the abolition of despotism means
the abolition of God, there can be no question where
Christian and clerical authority ought to stand.
Where, then, lay the mistake of the religious leaders ?
I answer, It probably lay farther back, in not watching
and detecting the popular restlessness in its beginnings,
instructing its infancy, and creating ideas of liberty
which were scriptural and rational, and thus aiding
in building up a public opinion which should have
deserved the sympathies of Christian men. Probably
it was once in the power of the Christian thinkers of
Germany, clerical and laical, to control the popular
inquiry on the one hand, and the policy of the govern-
ment on the other; for it is well known that the
LECT. IV.] GERMINATION OF REFORMS. 67
government of Germany has been largely in the hands
of kings, emperors, and statesmen who personally have
been religious men.
But that time, once passed unimproved by the clergy,
left them no alternative afterwards but the wretched
choice between despotism and atheism. They chose,
as they ought to have done, the lesser evil ; but in so
doing they threw an immense weight into the scale of
infidelity. German atheists to-day have this to say for
themselves, that all the religion they know any thing
about is a religion of aristocrats and bayonets. Who
can compute the dead weight which Christianity must
carry in such an unnatural alliance of truth with error?
Christianity, in its normal working, never creates a
state of things in which the best that good men can do
is to make a choice of evils. Where that is the situa-
tion, something has always been wrong m the antece-
dent management.
The question is often asked in this form, " Ought the
clergy to lead, or to follow, in the agitation of moral re-
forms? " In my judgment, it does not admit of compact
answer in this form. The question of leadership is a
question of dates. It is in the beginnings of such move-
ments, before they have reached the stage of agitation,
that the work of the clergy is required. When reforms
are in their germination is the time for the clerical hand
to insert itself in methods of wise and temperate con-
trol. That then the clergy should be leaders, not fol-
lowers, does not admit of question. The people have
no other leaders whose prerogative is so sure.
(4) This leads me to observe, that, if the clergy wait
in inaction till the popular mind is so profoundly
agitated on a great moral reform that it will hear
58 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. iv
nothing else, it is then often too late for the pulpit to
be a power of control in that reform. A preacher then
seems to speak in self-preservation. The current has
rolled in around him, and has risen to the level of his
lips, and he speaks because he must speak. His speak-
ing then is the sputtering of a drowning man.
Moreover, the status of the community is then fixed.
Opinions are settled, prejudices are full grown, the
stream is set immovably, and probably some new foun-
tain of opinion is already opened. Popular opinions of
the kind now in question do not become popular till
about the time when new opinions are forming under-
neath. A man who wakes to the discovery of a truth
at the last moment of its general adoption is still
behind his age. That truth is still green in his hand,
when it has ripened, and shed its seeds, in the hands of
others. Its fruit is germinating in other forms, which
are likely to meet from him the same hostility or neglect
with which he encountered their forerunners.
Have you never known a pastor whose entire minis-
try had the look of a losing race ? He was not only
not in advance of his age, not even abreast with his age,
but a little, and only a little, behind his age ; so near
that he could always be in at a victory, but never there
in the fight. A clergyman subjects his professional
prestige to a heavy discount, if he permits any popular
excitement which is rooted either in Christianity, or in
hostility to Christianity, to escape his knowledge, or to
advance to its results without his care. To be a power
of control in such excitements he must lay a magnetic
hand upon them in their beginnings.
(5) The principles here affirmed are not limited in
their application to moral reforms technically so called.
LECT. IV.] THEOLOGICAL INQUIRY. 59
They have a much broader range. To illustrate this,
let several things be specified to which they are ger-
mane. A revival of religion, for instance, ought never
to take a minister unawares. Dependent as revivals
nre upon the sovereignty of the Holy Spirit, they do
not come without premonitions ; that is to say, signs of
their approach are visible to eyes which are open, and
watchful for them. There is nothing in the philosophy
of a revival which locks it up to occult causes. It will
commonly foreshadow its approach in certain spiritual
experiences, either within the church, or in Christian
families, or in sabbath schools, or, it may be, in spiritual
changes in a preacher's own soul. A wise pastor,
studious of the laws of the Holy Spirit's working, will
often discern tokens of his special presence on the eve
of a work of special power.
Again : a renewal of popular inquiry upon any doc-
trine of our faith ought never to be ignored by the
pulpit. A few years ago the doctrine of retribution
started a wave of popular interest in many sections of
this country, which is still in progress. Believers and
unbelievers felt a fresh desire to investigate that doc-
trine. In a multitude of cases, opinions have been
revised. Conflicting opinions upon it have agitated
many communities. Theories have been broached re-
specting it which were locally new. Old errors have
been revivified, and re-adjusted to suit modern tastes.
Believers in universal salvation have become believers
in a non-eternal retribution through their faith in
modern necromancy. In some localities Restorationism
is thus intrenched in the popular faith to-day more
strongly than it was twenty years ago.
What, now, should be the policy of a Christian pulpit
60 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. iv.
during such a decade of revived inquiry? Evidently
it should not be a policy of reticence. The pulpit
should not ignore such a revival of popular interest
in one of the standards of the faith. We should not
retii'e from it in disgust at its origin. What if the
wretched flummery of Spiritualism is in some cases at
the bottom of it. That is no reason why the clergy
should hold themselves aloof and aloft from it as a
thing of degraded birth.
A case to the point occurs to me. In a certain parish
in Massachusetts, Spiritualism had stolen a march.
Starting with a fortune-teller, it crept into a group of
respectable families. An educated physician gave it
prestige. Seances were held every fortnight. Soon
Dr. Channing and Benjamin Franklin began to dance
on the tipping tables. The intermediate state and
eternal retribution were revised. Several church-mem-
bers dropped their ancient faith at the bidding of the
ghosts of their grandmothers. Their pastor, when
inquired of about the still revolution which was going
on in his parish, scouted it because of its origin. He
was preaching that winter upon the parables of our
Lord. He could not descend from so lofty a height
to contend with the twaddle of the seances. But his
people could. Ought he not to have followed them ?
Ought he not to have known what they were think-
ing of and talking of, and whither they were drifting
under the lead of the skeptical physician ?
Christianity never stands upon its dignity. It de-
scends wherever man descends. Its mission is to save
the lost. And to save, it seeks : it does not wait to be
sought. The clergy are ex officio guardians of Christian
doctrine. They should claim instant leadership of
LECT. IV.] AN EXCLUSIVE CLERGY. 61
popular discussion, and should show by their mastery
of the subject their ability, and therefore their right, to
hold that leadership. Never should such a revival of
popular inquiry upon a Christian doctrine be allowed
to come to a head in a reconstruction of opinion, with-
out the wise and winning voice of the pulpit.
It is on the same principle, and no other, that any
question of practical morals which arouses a commu-
nity should summon its pastor to the van. Temper-
ance, the desecration of the Lord's Day, reform of the
" social evil," the ethics of trade, the evils of caste,
the relations of capital to labor, should be watched
narrowly by the clergy whenever and wherever they
are attracting the thinking of the people. It will
never do to turn these topics outside of the church,
and consign them to strolling lecturers in lyceums
and music-halls, and to wire-pullers in political con-
ventions. If the clergy let these things alone, on the
plea that the pulpit has more spiritual functions, those
spiritual functions can not long hold any leadership of
the people.
13. The relations of the clergy to the popular mind
have still another phase in which they need review. I
refer to that condition of things in which it sometimes
happens that the clergy become identified with the
cultivated classes of society to the practical exclusion
of the lower classes ; and the point to be specially noted
is, that, in such a state of affairs, the pulpit ceases to be
a spiritual power with any class.
The Rev. Dr. James Alexander laments the tendency
of some ministers to seek chiefly "the society of the
rich and the lettered," as he describes them, " instead of
being lights to the world." He adds, "The democracy
62 MEN AND BOOKS. [leci-. iv.
must be reached. People must be made to feel that the
heart of the minister is with them. Common people
require this. The age requires it. Young men require
it." He was not the man to put on record even so mild
an expression of the facts as this, if he had not seen
evidence of the need of it, and more, among the clergy
of which he was an honored representative.
(1) But this view is enforced by a deeper principle
than any demand of classes or of the age. Upon it
depends the very existence of the pulpit as a moral
power. Aim at the educated classes exclusively, or
even chiefly, and you lose mastery of all classes. Iso-
late a Christian pulpit from the sympathy of the unedu-
cated masses, and you forfeit respect for it as a power
of control among the ranks of culture.
You may sometimes detect evidence of this in the
history of individual churches. There are churches
which have allowed themselves to become representa-
tives of the refinement and the wealth of a community
to the practical exclusion of its laboring classes. They
have aimed at the heads of society to the neglect of its
" hands." They forget that to every '' head " there are
two " hands." The ministry of such churches are not
respected even in those churches as a power of spiritual
control. They are not recognized as an authority.
Their churches, standing themselves aloof from the
simple feelings and relationships which constitute the
plane of humanity in real life, expect their pastors to
minister to their pleasure, and be guided by their opin-
ions. They expect preaching to meet their tastes rather
than their necessities. Their pastors commonly do as
they are tacitly bidden. Such churches will not long
retain pastors who will not do it.
LECT. IV.] CHARACTER OF CLERICAL INFLUENCE. 63
As a consequence, such a ministry loses all mastery.
They lose their liberty as public teachers, and their
authority as public leaders. They deserve to lose them.
They are in an unnatural position as it respects the
masses of the people ; and a subtle instinct in the very
classes of culture which have tempted them aloft pro-
nounces the position a false one. Nobody looks up to
them as men of apostolic power. As men, such preach-
ers may be loved; as social equals, they may be re-
spected; for the truths they do utter they may be
commended. Smooth and pleasant things may be said
of them for their fidelity in preaching " the gospel," as
they call it. In quiet times, in the routine of worship,
in pastoral functions, they may fill a place of seeming
honor. But they are not revered by their most devoted
friends as spiritual superiors. They are not looked
up to as men whose opinions are an authority, whose
approval is a reward, whose rebuke is feared as carry-
ing the weight of a message from God. They are the
very last type of a Christian ministry which the people
will feel to be a power in the land.
(2) In further explanation of this phenomenon it
should be remarked that the influence of the clergy
with the cultivated classes of society is to a consid-
erable extent a moral as distinct from an intellectual
influence. The time has long since gone by when the
clergy were ex officio the intellectual superiors of all
their parishioners. They minister now to many who
are, in point of intellectual force and general culture,
their equals, and to some who are their superiors. The
pulpit is criticised now with a freedom which springs
from the conscious power, and therefore the right, to say
what the pulpit ought to be, and to judge of what it is.
64 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect rv.
Laymen as a class know less of theology than they did
a half-century ago, but they know more of some other
things. They do not listen to preaching as conscious
inferiors to the man who is addressing them, so gener-
ally as they once did.
As a consequence, the influence of the pulpit with
the cultivated classes is pre-eminently a religious in-
fluence. It is the influence of the man, of his personal
weight, of his devotional spirit, of his self-forgetfulness,
of his eminence in all the passive clerical graces. The
most intelligent hearers are those who enjoy most
heartily the simplest preaching. It is not they who
clamor for superlatively intellectual or sesthetic ser-
mons. Daniel Webster used to complain of some of
the preaching to which he listened. He said it was too
severe a strain upon the intellect to be sympathetic
with the spirit of worship. " In the house of God " he
wanted to meditate " upon the simple verities and the
undoubted facts of religion," not upon mysteries and
abstractions.
The distinction between religion and theology is one
which such hearers prize highly. While they want
thought, not ranting, in the pulpit, they do not crave
abstruseness, nor is it the intellectual character of the
ministry which chiefly wins their respect. That must
not be beneath their respect, but neither is it nor can it
be now an eminence to which they look up with pain-
ful awe. This class of hearers think much of the de-
votional services of the pulpit. They look there for
much which wins and holds their confidence in the
clergy. For their personal help in a religious life they
want a religious teacher whose prayers uplift them.
The Episcopal Church of this country, relatively to
LECT. IV.] DEVOTIONAL SERVICES. Q5
its limited numbers, embraces a larger proportion of
culture than any other sect of Christians. Yet its
pulpit as a whole is intellectually inferior to that of
any of the other great sects of the American Church.
What is it that holds such an amount of educated mind
in its allegiance to the Christian faith? It is mainly
their respect for and attachment to their ancient liturgy.
They know, and it goes to the hearts of thousands of
devout believers among them every Sunday, that the
Litany is the most sublime, comprehensive, and affect-
ing piece of liturgic expression in the language. They
will bear almost any amount of commonplace in the
sermons of a clergyman who so puts his soul into that
incomparable production as to make them feel his
heart in equal pulses with their own.
In our own denomination the fact is not always so
obvious; but the evidences of it are still abundant,
that the culture of our congregations is moved by the
religious more than the intellectual spirit of the pulpit.
The clamorers for sensationalism in our pulpits are
those who really know least about good preaching, and
are the poorest judges of it when they hear it. The
more ignorant a people are, the more fuss they make
about the want of mental gifts and acquisitions in their
pastors. They will dismiss a really learned pastor, and
complain that they are not "fed," when his sermons
have *' meat " enough in them to gorge such hearers to
repletion.
It is to be hoped that you will not experience this
evil ; but the chances are that some of you will. If you
do, I trust that the council which dismisses you will be
faithful enough to put on record, as one council did in
such a case, " Resolved that our brother, the Rev. Mr.
QQ MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. ir.
A , in our judgment has given to this church and
congregation meat fully equal to their digestive powers.'*
Yes, it is the commonplace mind that complains most
loudly of commonplace preaching. The black congre-
gations of our cities and the South are notoriously the
most censorious critics of simple preaching. They
often feel themselves insulted if a man who can write
preaches to them an extemporaneous discourse.
LECTURE V.
CLERICAL INFLUENCE WITH THE EDUCATED CLASSES,
ITS CHARACTER. — THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD,
THEIR RELATIONS DISTORTED.
(3) Pursuing a little further our review of the re-
lations of the clergy to the educated classes, let us
observe that clerical influence over those classes is very
largely a reflexive influence. It rolls back over the
cultivated heights of society by the force of its accumu-
lations below. Do we not all sometimes trace our first
response to a preacher's influence, even our discovery
of the fact that he has in him the germs of power as a
leader of men, to the fact of his moving others ? We
feel his power through the medium of our respect for
his power over them. No man who is not past feeling
any thing great can be insensible to the spectacle of a
man moving to their eternal well being the masses of
uncultured mind by so simple an instrument as preach-
ing. There is a sublimity in it which all feel who are
not imbruted in sensualit3^ The educated mind will
involuntarily extend to such a man a respect to which
his culture can lay no claim.
The landed gentry of England flocked to hear White-
field, not because of any thing in him which they
discovered : the discoverers of his genius were the
uncultivated throngs in the fields and on the commons
67
68 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. v.
of England. It was the great field-preacher in the
lowlands whose voice reverberated to the surrounding
heights, and commanded a respect whicli might never
have found expression in any other way. The refine-
ment, and the culture, and the wealth, and the noble
birth of England, never found the man out till the
rudeness, and the ignorance, and the plebeian tastes,
and the poverty of England, had opened hearts to him.
Then the classic heads of England came to their senses
about him. Mr. Spurgeon, in our own day, is illustrat-
ing the same phenomenon.
One of the most useful of American evangelists,
when he began to speak in public, was advised by a
group of wise men not to expose thus his infirmities of
speech and poverty of thought. For the time they
were right in that counsel. Even now he would not
claim that his right to speak consists in the affluence
of his materials, or the elegance of his diction. Yet
the elite of Boston and Brooklyn numbered thousands
in his audiences. Such critics as those of " The New-
York Tribune" found a theme of thoughtful discus-
sion in his work as a social phenomenon.
Why is this? Not, probably, because of any thing
which they feel of power in his discourses, but because
they feel the fact that other thousands of lower grade
are moved by him. His power over his superiors is a
reflection of his power over his and their inferiors. A
secret conviction sways thoughtful minds, that such a
man is in many respects a representative of a Christ-
like ministry. His success is one of the natural se-
quences of the preaching of the gospel in ways in
which spiritual power takes precedence of all other
elements of successful speech. The thing which he is
LECT. v.] LEADERSHIP IN EMERGENCIES. 69
doing is the business of a Christian pieacher. The
higher classes no less resolutely than tha lower with-
hold their spirit of obeisance from any man who is too
good for it, too refined, too scholarly, too gentlemanly,
or too indolent and too weak. The preacher, there-
fore, who has no power with the common people, has,
in fact, no power with anybody. The pulpit which has
no standing-ground down in the lowlands of society
has none anywhere. An exclusive ministry is always a
weak ministry.
(4) The weakness of an exclusive ministry is often
not disclosed till spiritual emergencies arise. In quiet
times, specially in stagnant times, it may pass unde-
tected. But let emergencies come which agitate all
classes, and then the hollowness of such a ministry will
reveal itself to all classes. The cultivated will be as
prompt as those below them to detect it, and to fling it
from them. They look around them for a spiritual
leader, to some man who has not sought to please them.
Over the heads, it may be, of their own pastors, they
will look to some minister of Christ whom they descry
in the distance, down on the plain, in the dust and the
heat of the battle. For such a man, whose spiritual
power has been proved by emergencies, the rest of us
must fall back to the right and to the left. The Church
wants him. The heart of the Church has felt the
pulsations of his heart ; and now the brain of the
Church singles him out by a judgment well-nigh unani-
mous. The Church wants his experience ; she wants
his knowledge of men ; she wants his insight into the
popular necessities ; she wants his skill in touching the
springs of popular sensibility: more than all else, she
wants his sympathy with God's spirit in movement
70 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. v.
upon the popular conscience. Under sucli conditions,
vox populi vox Dei. Such a man always finds his
reward even in this world: it is only a question of
time.
14. ^Another sequence of any general deficiency in
clerical knowledge of and sympathy with men is the
establishment of anomalous relations between the
church and the world.
The biblical idea of the church is simply that of
an organized body of regenerate mind: the biblical
idea of the world is that of the unsaved multitude of
unregenerate mind. Two classes of character, and
only two, make up the human race as the Scriptures
represent it; viz., saints and sinners, friends of God
and enemies of God. Much of the power of the pulpit
depends on assuming the reality of that distinction.
One of the chief objects of church organization is to
make that distinction vivid. A living church always
fastens that distinction upon the conscience of the
world. Apostolic preaching was full of it. Religious
reformations always rejuvenate it. Often the first
evidence of a religious awakening is a new illumination
of that one thought in the experience of the church
and in the convictions of lookers-on.
On the other hand, the amenities of Christianized
social life tend to obscure, even to obliterate, that dis-
tinction. This is specially true in nations of vigorous
mental stock. In such nations Christianity displaces
barbarism by refinement : it drives depravity out of
brutal into aspiring forms ; it crowds the savage under
cover of the lofty vices. The churchly idea is then in
perpetual conflict with its imitations for its own exist-
ence. The tendency is often almost overpowermg to
LECT. v.] CHURCHLY DISTINCTION. 71
confound regenerate graces with ornate and silken forms
of irreligion.
In such a state of society — and it is one which is
inevitable in any nation which has reached the higher
stages of a Christian civilization — very much depends
on the adjustments of the pulpit. The pulpit has an
office like that of '' Old Mortality " in Walter Scott's
romance, — to cut over again, and engrave deeper in the
popular conscience, the conviction of the old distinction
between saint and sinner. One of the vital aims of the
pulpit must be to enforce the scriptural ideal of what
the church should be and of what the world is. Any
thing which enervates the pulpit in that work must
tend to fuse the church and the world together in the
judgment even of thoughtful men. The reality of
consecration on the one side and of ungodly living on
the other will grow dim in proportion as each ap-
proaches the other in its external signs.
The point, therefore, to be emphasized is, that any
general deficiency in the clerical knowledge of the
world must tend directly to that end : it must tend to
blot out this churchly distinction. It is well known
that the theory of the moral nature of man which has
been taught in some New-England pulpits has resulted,
in some cases, in the abolition of all church organiza-
tion, and the disuse of the Lord's Supper as the token
of churchly prerogative. To the same result tends
ignorance of the world in clerical ministrations. It
tends to leave the fusion of the church and the world
to go on unchecked by any forcible delineations of the
difference between them. A ministry not knowing
men as they are will not preach to men as they are.
Not recognizing the face of their own contemporaries,
72 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. v.
tliey will not speak to their own contemporaries. Men
who do not themselves feel the pulsations of the popu-
lar heart can not minister to the real diseases of tlie
popular condition.
Furthermore, the pulpit, under such circumstances,
is apt to be full of side-issues. Preaching becomes
powerless from overshooting, or shooting at random.
Preaching by routine takes the place of original think-
ing. One is reminded by it of the old rule of English
military tactics, by which a platoon of infantry, at the
command " Fire," were taught to discharge their mus-
kets on a dead level before them, without aiming at
any thing, and then to wheel around to the rear.
Such preachers will often preach against forms of
sin which are for the time extinct, and exhort to
virtues which are just there out of place, and just then
untimely. They may describe fossilized characters,
instead of the living men and women. The}" will
depict sinners in the general, and saints in the abstract,
instead of American or English Christians and sinners.
They will urge proportions of truth which the popular
conscience will not respond to as the most pressing
need of the hour. They will preach in a dialect which
is not abreast with the growth of the language. They
will hold on to pliraseology which is obsolete every-
where else than in the pulpit. They will betray no
insight into the modes of thinking, the types of inquir}',
the subjects of interest, the convictions of truth, and the
tendencies to error, which are in the living souls around
them. They will preach so that many thoughtful men
will not believe them : as many more will not believe
that they believe themselves. No large proportion of
a community will feel their presence as that of a reli-
LECT. v.] THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD. 73
gious power. The masses of society especially, who
are immersed in the struggle for a livelihood, will nut
come within reach of the echo of their voices.
A church formed under the influence of such a
ministry, it is obvious, can have no power of conquest
in the world. The sense of distinction between it and
the world must become practically defunct. Thinking
men will feel, and blunt men will say, that there is no
difference between the character and life of such a
church and many of the more respectable forms of
worldliness. Worldly organizations with religion
enough in them for ornament, associations for reform,
charitable leagues, secret societies, will grow up and
take the place of the church in the estimation of many,
because they see no churchly mission in actual opera-
tion, of which they feel the need.
Meanwhile the deepest religious inquiries of men of
profound conscience do not turn to such a church for
an answer. Those inquiries go on outside of the
church, with no leanings to it, and no listening ear for
its teachings. A class of thoughtful men arise who
are not in the church, who do not wish to be there,
who can not be persuaded to be there, and yet whose
consciences do not convict them when the pulpit, in
stereotyped phrase, prays for deliverance from ''the
world, the flesh, and the devil," and declaims against
" haters of God, and enemies of the cross of Christ."
They form a third class who are not consciously the
one thing or the other. They do not " profess and call
themselves Christians;" yet their consciences do not
respond when the pulpit addresses them as sinners in
distinction from saints.
You can judge for yourselves of the extent to which
74 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. v.
this picture is approximately true in our own day.
The main point which I wish to observe is, that such a
state of things is a distortion of the normal relations
of church and world, and that it results inevitably
from any general sense of clerical unfitness to the
world of real life. It follows as a necessary sequence,
when the popular mind is left in want of a ministry
which is wise in its knowledge of its own times,
thoroughly cordial in its sympathy with its own times,
and vigorous in adapting the pulpit to the spiritual
wants of its own times. This third class of minds
need a living pulpit in order to be made sensible of
the presence of a living church. They need, not a
pulpit of the past, not a pulpit of the future, but a
pulpit of to-day. They need to see a live man at the
head of the elect. Else their response is quick and
stern, "Who are you, that you should claim to be
elect?"
As to the material of preaching, they need not so
much new truth as old truth freshened. They want
the ancient substance of the gospel as apostles preached
it, but clothed in the experience of to-day, and coming
out boldly yet winningly in the speech of to-day. They
want the old creeds of the church, which reverent men
and saintly women have chanted, translated into the
dialect of common life. They claim the right to test
those creeds as uninspired productions. They will test
them by the common sense of men in the interpreta-
tion of God's word. In that process they claim that
the advance which the human mind has been making in
centuries of popular development shall be recognized.
They ask that the Scriptures as represented by modern
creeds shall seem to be consistent with themselves and
LECT. v.] AN HYPOTHESIS. 75
with the necessary convictions of the race. They Wait,
sometimes a long while, for a living pulpit which shall
speak out for them these yearnings of their own souls,
and help them to understand themselves. No other
kind of ministry can ever win them to the visible
church of Christ.
Here the inquiry is pertinent for the moment, Whac
would be the consequence of a permanent isolation of
the clergy from the popular sympathy ? I answer with-
out hesitation. The destruction of the church as a living
power. The few whom we now recognize as a third
class — not churchmen, yet not reprobates, earnest think-
ers and of upright lives — would increase in numbers
and in influence. Christianity is too far advanced in its
conquest of human thought to be extinguished by the
defection of one or two generations of either church or
clergy. In other hands Christian thinking would live,
and Christian discussion would make itself heard. Now
and then platoons of inquirers would fall back into infi-
delity. Here and there fraternities of them would
become absorbed in moral reforms. But the bulk of
them would press their way into some form of organiza-
tion which should express the idea of Christian fellow-
ship, but which, we may be assured, they would not call
a church. They would then create for themselves and
their children some order of religious teachers which
they would not call a clergy. Meanwhile, as it respects
power of conquest in the world, by the side of such an
organization the church and her clergy would be
stranded.
But we need not fear any such result. God does not
permit the clergy to fall permanently out of rank into
false relations to the world. It is cheering to note how
76 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. v
seasonably divine intervention prevents that disaster.
Religious awakenings on the eve of emergencies are
constantly vitalizing the pulpit anew. Metaphorically
speaking, new blood is put into clerical leadership.
The spiritual anaemia is cured. Preachers are often,
in popular phrase, " reconverted." Men who have been
deficient in consecrated graces, and some of whom have
held theories unfriendly to direct ministrations, are re-
formed. They either preach inconsistently with their
theories, or they change their views, and seem to them-
selves to experience a new baptism from the Holy
Ghost. By some means the end will always be gained,
of securing to the church a ministry which shall be
sympathetic with their own generation, and studious of
the wants of their own times.
The views here advanced I am very sensible are
liable to misinterpretation. It is difficult to state the
truth on the subject forcibly without exaggeration.
Principles affirmed must be qualified, and some of the
qualifications are as important as the principles. State-
ments of fact also must be limited ; and often the lim-
itations are essential to prevent invidious comparisons.
I have endeavored to limit and to qualify as the truth
demands ; yet I am sensible of the danger of seeming
to judge the ministry cynically.
I beg you to note, therefore, that the criticisms upon
men, implied in my remarks on this subject, I do not
apply to the evangelical body indiscriminately. They
are true of many in some sections of the church, and
of few in others ; of many at some periods, and of few
at others. Let me quote here a slip which I take from
one of the secular periodicals of London. I by no
means indorse it. I present it as a specimen of the
LECT. v.] A CLERICAL CARICATURE. 77
impression which may be unconsciously made t pon
men of the world by an educated, refined, scholarly
clergy representing one or more of the historic denomi-
nations of Christendom.
The editor in question classifies the clergy of Eng-
land thus: "We have first the mild, school-visiting,
weak-eyed, tea-drinking, croquet-playing curate, with a
strong conviction that he stands in need of feminine
sympathy; then the pet parson, who finds his way
into the drawing-rooms of fashionable watering-places,
as a fly into a sugar-basin ; then the comical parson,
who is great in organizing archery clubs and bazaars,
as well as in enacting the part of social buffoon on every
possible opportunity ; then the dancing parson and the
hunting parson ; and lastly the parson who is denomi-
nated par excellence ' fast.' "
You will observe here, that no place is found for
apostolic ministers of Christ, in numbers sufficient to
form a class, in the whole body of the English clergy.
Nothing limits it absolutely to the clergy of the Estab-
lishment. The picture is, of course, a caricature : more,
it is a libel upon very valuable branches of the church
of Christ. Yet even as a caricature it is instructive.
Caricatures do not spring up like mushrooms. This
one could not have existed if the classes which it satir-
izes did not exist in sufficient numbers to suggest it,
and to be suggested by it. It could not exist if there
were not a considerable minority of the clergy who are
making on the world the impression which it exagger-
ates. They are men of the world in all that makes up
its artificial life, and yet are not feeling after and min-
istering to the profound necessities of the world as a
world of lost sinners for whom Christ died. I repeat,
78 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. y,
therefore, that, in some sections of the church, the criti-
cisms I have made are true of many, and in others of
few. My belief is, that in all they are applicable to a
minority, and that, relatively, a small one. In some
periods of history, also, these criticisms are more ob-
viously true than at others.
But at all periods, in all sections, under all condi-
tions of real life, the peril which they suggest exists.
This is the point which I wish to impress. The ten-
dency to the disastrous state of things which they
imply is always attendant upon the preaching of the
gospel in a world like this by such instrumentalities as
even the best that human nature furnishes. The ten-
dency lies deep in our civilization to subordinate moral
distinctions to social distinctions, and therefore to be
swayed by whatever is found afloat on the surface of
the so-called "upper classes " of society.
Let that tendency become dominant in the ministra-
tions of the gospel, and it betrays itself in such phe-
nomena as these ; viz., the organization of churches by
social affinities chiefly ; the erection of church edifices
so costly and ornate that the poor can not feel at home
in them ; the crowding together of such churches in
fashionable localities, in which "society" lives, and
"the people" do not; the consequent adjustment of an
educated pulpit to educated hearers only ; the gradual
separation of the poor from the rich and of the ignorant
from the cultivated in religious worship ; the gradual
concentration, therefore, of the wealthy and the refined
into one or two denominations of Christians ; the usage
in those denominations of acting upon the poor and the
ignorant, if at all, by methods which create a sense of
social distance between the superior and inferior ; the
LECT. v.] MISSION-CHAPELS. 79
sequence that success in winning the inferiors to Christ
is made impossible, and the effort to do it under such
conditions farcical ; and finally, as the result of all these
things, a worldly ambition among the clergy to be mag-
nates over magnificent churches whose secret pride is
that they have no poor, no ignorant, no rude wor-
shipers in their gorgeous temples, and whose fixed
purpose it is not to tolerate such worshipers under
the same roof with themselves.
It is this peril which I have wished to portray
temperately yet truthfully. I think there are facts
in the present drift of things in our own denomination,
specially in our cities, which should set us on double
guard against it. Calvinistic denominations are all
giving evidences of its existence. The rise of Meth-
odism was a revolt of spiritual forces against it. But
now, even Methodism gives signs of its encroachment
upon the ancient discipline.
The establishment of mission-chapels in our large
cities by the prominent evangelical sects is, in my
judgment, a very questionable experiment. It has not
the right look for the working of a Christian church.
I am not prepared to say that it may not be the best
thing now practicable, things being as they are. Hu-
man nature must be taken as we find it, in the higher
classes as in the lower. In such a reform of Christian
usage as these remarks suggest, we must begin by
working as we can. We must cherish the patient
virtues with which the apostles trained the imperfect
graces of the early church. But the first thing we
have to do is to see our existing policy as it is. We
should mark its inevitable tendency to foster a classi-
fication of Christians by mutual repulsion of classes
80 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. v.
from each other. Its tendency is directly to falsify the
apostolic principle which lies at the very foundation of
a church of Christ: "We, being many, are one body
in Christ." Whatever may be said in defense of it,
it is just what Christ did not do when he entered
Jerusalem as a preacher. It is just what the apostles
did not do at Corinth and at Ephesus. Is it not what
neither of them would do to-day if they were to itiner-
ate among our American churches ?
To illustrate the temptation to which a pastor may
be exposed by the spirit of caste in our metropolitan
churches, let me relate a single case which occurred
in one of our Eastern cities. A certain preacher of
considerable local popularity had gathered a large and
wealthy and intelligent congregation, not surpassed, if
equaled, by any other in the State. Not a pew was
unsold in the church, and not a seat often vacant on
the Lord's Day. Applications for pews were made
months in advance of a supply. Every thing that
could minister to the pastor's worldly comfort or ambi-
tion he had at his command. For salary, voyages to
Europe, increase of library, long vacations, he had only
to ask, and he received. The social eminence of his
congregation created an eminence for him on which he
was seen and sought after from afar. Yet he was not
content. He felt himself restrained from the work of
his life by the very luxury of his position, and this from
the fact that he had none of God's i^^or among his
people. Not one family worshiped in his church from
the humbler walks of life. It could not be said of his
ministry, " To the poor the gospel is preached." They
could not shun a pest-house more cautiously than they
did his church-door. The long row of private car-
LECT. v.] THE "HYPOCHONDRIAC" PASTOR. 81
riages before it, some of them witli liveried drivers on
the boxes, on a Sunday morning, was a grief lo him.
He had no agrarian sympathies; but he felt himself
called of God to preach to the drivers as well as to
their masters.
He at length sought a consultation with the leadiiig
men in his society, and told them his afiliction. He
told them frankly that he had done all he could do for
them and their families, conditions being as they were,
and now he wanted an increase of his congregation of
a different social rank. He asked them to put galleries
into their church edifice, lioping by that means to
achieve his object. They heard him respectfully, but
blandly refused his request. He reasoned and pleaded
with them, to no effect. They thought he was hypo-
chondriac, and offered to send him to Europe. But to
go to Europe would be only to " change the place, and
keep the pain." He was an hypochondriac of the class
to which our Lord belonged when he wept over Jeru-
salem. He must preach the gospel to the poor, or he
could not be content with his life's work. His people
argued that galleries would injure the architecture of
their beautiful temple ; but he reasoned them out of
that fear, so far at least as to silence them.
At last they plainly told him that it would be dis-
agreeable to them and their families to have a crowd
of the poor thronging the same place of worship with
themselves. They belonged to the high classes of
society, and wished to remain such. They would not
have galleries over their heads. One of the saints told
him plainly that he did not believe that God meant to
have the rich and the poor worship under the same
roof. He had ordained the distinction, and was re-
82 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. v.
sponsible for the consequences. The pastor, with grief
and indignation, at length told them thg,t it was more
than he could bear. Much as he loved them, grateful
as he felt for their kindness, he must leave them.
Preach to the poor somewhere he must and would, if
he had to go into the streets to do it. And they let
him go into the street. They found a successor who
was not " hypochondriac." All honor to the man !
But what of the church as a spiritual power in the
world ? How soon would such churches, though as the
stars of heaven in multitude, be successful in the con-
version of the world ? Indeed, how much better would
the world be than it is now, if it were converted to the
type of Christianity which such churches represent?
Give me rather the philosophy of Socrates and Plato,
and the faith of Cicero, than such a Christianity.
LECTURE VI.
THE STUDY OF MEN, CONCLUDED. — PRACTICE OP
LEADING MINDS IN HISTORY.
15. The theoretical consideration of the study of
men as a means of rhetorical discipline invites ns to
observe further, in concluding the discussion, that the
study of living men as a source of discipline is com-
mended by the general practice of leading minds in
history. The remarks I have to make on this point
will not add much to your note-books. Yet they are
necessary to illustrate the reality of the views I have
presented, as proved by experience.
The truth is, that the majority of us have passed
through our courses of collegiate training, under erro-
neous impressions, probably, of the proportion in which
books have contributed to the making of controlling
minds in real life. The cases have been exceptional
in which power of control has been gained largely in
any department of life without this practice of the
study of men as distinct from the study of libraries.
(1) Much is signified to the purpose here by the
ancient curriculum of education. The ancient systems
of education included provision for extensive travel.
The Greek and Roman schools of learning were never
considered adequate to the complete training of men
for public life. The training of the schools, it was
83
84 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vi.
assumed, was to be followed by travel in other lands.
No man would tlien have regarded his literary culture
as finished, even in its foundations, without the appen-
dix of travel to the scholastic discipline.
This was the ideal of a liberal education throughout
the middle ages. It has always been the English ideal,
to this day, of the most perfect educational training.
The idea of deriving the whole of a young man's mental
discipline from schools of learning is a modern, and
specially an American idea. Here it has arisen from
the extension of scholastic privileges to multitudes who
have not the means of travel, and also from the fact
that the early entrance of young men upon public life
here in part takes the place of travel in pressing them
into some knowledge of the world.
Plato was thirty years old when Socrates died. He
spent eight or nine years under the instruction of
Socrates, and then he spent ten years in Megara,
Magna Grecia, and Sicily, before he returned, and en-
tered upon his public life in Athens. In this country,
six of the corresponding ten years in a young man's
life are spent in the first experiments of professional
duty. Practically those six years are a part of his
professional discipline. We all find it such in fact.
We depend on the first years of our public life for that
part of our training which the early systems of educa-
tion derived from travel. B ut, come from what source
it may, it comes from some source in nearly all the
cases in which a power of control is gained largely in
an}^ department of public life.
(2) Not to rest with general assertion on a point of
so much interest as this, let me recall to you certain
biographical facts in the history of literature, and of
LBCT. VI.] SHAKSPEARE. 85
government, and of the arts. These embrace specially,
among others, some which relate to the habits of distin-
guished speakers.
But first let me recall the one man who illustrates
almost every thing in literary history. The point in
the history of the English drama which Shakspeare
marks most vividly is that in which it ceased to be
scholastic, and became popular. Shakspeare disowned
the tyranny of literature, and defied the tyranny of crit-
icism. He became what he was to the English drama
simply by being what he was to the English people.
Critics have tried hard to make out for him a large
acquaintance with books; but that is the very thing
of which the evidence is least in his history.
On the other hand, notliing else is so certain in the
meager knowledge we have of his personal career, as
that he acted his own plays, lived in the world which
he sought to entertain, studied the tastes of his own
companions, and wrote for the people of his own times.
Never was man more intensely a man of the present.
From the latest researches in Shakspearean literature,
it appears that he seldom or never wrote a tragedy till
some one else had first tried the public taste on the
same subject. M. Guizot, who, though a Frenchman,
has written the keenest criticism upon Shakspeare's
works which I have met with, finds nothing else in
them so characteristic, and so philosophically explana-
tory of their success, as the fact that they evince a most
masterly knowledge of his own age and country, and
that he wrote in a spirit of ardent loyalty to them
both.
The next illustration is Raphael. Says one of the
most intelligent critics of this prince of painters, " His
86 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vi.
paintings seem as if he had gone about the streets,
and, whenever he found an expressive face or attitude,
had daguerreotyped it on his brain, and gone back to
his studio to reproduce it." The point of interest in
the criticism is the fact that such was precisely the fact
in Raphael's professional habits. His most celebrated
faces are almost all of them portraits. His personal
friends, the celebrated women of his age, some of the
courtesans of Rome and Florence, still live on his
canvas. Such was the extent to which he carried
this fidelity to real life, that some critics even question
his originality of conception.
A third example is Edmund Burke. One of his
critics, speaking of Burke's writing, says of the man,
" He was a man who read every thing, and saw every
thing." The key to his success as an author — an
author, I say, for he was no speaker — is to be found
in his own criticism of Homer and Shakspeare, of whom
he said, " Their practical superiority over all other men
arose from their practical knowledge of all other men."
Burke respected the popular mind. In his appeals to
it he laid out his whole strength. Some of his most
profound reflections on political economy he embodied
in his " Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol." And what
was the " Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol " ? Nothing
but a political pamphlet written to carry on a political
campaign in a single shire. His " Essay on the Sublime
and Beautiful " was the product of a period of recrea-
tion. The hard work of his life was expended on the
practical affairs of England. He was one of the most
ardent and original of theorists ; yet such was his sub-
jection of theory to fact in his knowledge of mankind,
that his was the first leading mind in Eurcipe which
LECT. VI.] HISTORICAL EXAMPLES. 87
recovered from the intoxication of the French Revolu-
tion, and detected the drift of it towards anarchy.
A fourth illustration is Curran, the Irish orator. His
mother used to say of him, " O Jackey, what a preacher
was lost when you became a barrister ! " The old lady
was right if Curran would have carried into the minis-
try the same methods of self-discipline which he prac-
ticed for the bar. He laid the foundation of his success
as a barrister in the coffee-houses of London.
The London coffee-houses of that day were what the
" London Times " and other metropolitan newspapers
are now. Curran used to spend two hours every night
in them for the purpose of studying the politicians
whom he found there, observing their ways, their
speech, their opinions, even their dress. He would go
from one to another, selecting those which he said
" were most fertile in game for a character-hunter." In
this respect he represented almost all the public men of
his day who became eminent in the public life of Eng-
land. Lord Macaulay says that the coffee-house was
then a national institution, so general was the resort to
it of men whose public efforts of speech and authorship
ruled the realm.
Fox and Mirabeau I name as men of great power in
speech without great learning. As students of books
they were too indolent to accumulate the materials of
their own speeches : each had his fag. But as observ-
ers of men they were indefatigable : therefore, in spite
of their deficiencies in the knowledge of libraries, they
became masters in parliamentary debate. These men
represent a class of minds which spring up in every
country of free speech.
Napoleon is a seventh example. He founded libra-
88 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vi.
lies, but never entered them. But that was no boast
when he said, " I know man." He used to visit in dis-
guise the seaports of France to converse in person with
the fishermen and sailors and smugglers. He illustrated
the way in which a man of the world will often spring
at a bound, in religious argument, to results which a
scholastic mind would have reached, if at all, with slow
and wary steps. Thus it was that the superhuman
nature of Jesus Christ revealed itself to him. When
he formed the celebrated " Code " which bears his
name, he gathered around him the first jurists of the
empire, including those of the old monarchy; and he
astonished them all by the practical wisdom with which
he fused the conflicting materials which they furnished
him, into one consistent and feasible system of organic
law. His method of studying any subject which the
welfare of the empire required him to master was to
summon a group of conflicting living authorities on
that subject, and set them to arguing with each other
in defense of their respective opinions.
Another instance to the point is Walter Scott. He
lived with the multitude. His ofiQcial duties kept him
a large part of the time in a Scottish court of quarter
sessions. Hence it has been so often said that his
fictions read like histories, while the histories of other
men read like fictions. In his school-days Scott was a
dull boy and an inveterate truant. He would entice
one or more of his companions to run away with him
to Calton Hill or Arthur's Seat, and there he would
practice upon them his art of story-telling. He was an
unwearied conversationalist : nobody was too high, and
nobody too low, for him to talk with. In the " For-
tunes of Nigel " he represents one of the characters as
LECT. VI.] WALTER SCOTT'S EXAMPLE. 89
saying that a man of active mind can not talk with the
boy who holds his horse at a watering-place, without
obtaining some new thought. He used to go to the
fish-market at Billingsgate to study the dialect of the
fishwomen. He has been known to pause in the street
to jot down on a scrap of paper, or on his thumb-nail, a
word which he caught from a passer-by.
In his novels he draws so largely upon real life that
they are not properly called romances. He deals with
living characters, employs living dialects, records as
fictions actual occurrences. His own henchman, Tom
Purdie, is described in the "Red Gauntlet." The
death of the Templar in " Ivanhoe " was an exact copy
of a death-scene which occurred to a friend of Scott
while pleading a cause in his presence in a court-room
in Edinburgh. The localities of most of his stories he
describes from his own sight of them. He visited the
Continent to see for himself the localities of " Quentin
Durward." The best guide-book to the lakes of Scot-
land is said to be Scott's " Lady of the Lake."
Aristocratic as he was in his aspirations, he still
enjoyed the common people more heartily than the
society of his equals. The professors of the University
of Edinburgh complained that he chose the society of
men of business rather than their own. He held to
that choice deliberately. He said that he found the
conversation of men of the world to be more original,
and more fit to feed a literary spirit, than that of literary
men themselves. In a moment of petulance he declared
that the dullest talk he ever listened to was that of a
group of literary men at a dinner-table. " I love the
virtues of rough and round men," he says : " the others
are apt to escape me in sal-volatile and a white pocket-
handkerchief."
90 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vi.
Agaiu be writes: "I have read books enough, and
conversed with enough of splendidly educated men in
my time ; but I assure you I have heard higher senti-
ments from the lips of poor uneducated men and women
than I ever yet met with out of the pages of the Bible."
On another occasion, when his daughter condemned
something for being "vulgar," he replied, "You speak
like a very j^oung lady. Do you not know the mean-
ing of the word ' vulgar ' ? It is only ' common.' Noth-
ing that is common, except wickedness, can deserve to
be spoken of in a tone of contempt. When you have
lived to my years, you will agree with me in thanking
God that nothing really worth having in this world is
uncommon."
A ninth example is Patrick Henry. His bank-
ruptcy in a country store in Virginia was a foregone
conclusion because of the way in which he spent his
time. His habit was to -collect a company of villagers
in his store, and give them a subject of conversation,
and then fall back and listen to their talk. Popular
modes of thought, popular ways of argument, popular
styles of illustration, popular sophistries, popular ap-
peals, he studied thus month after month. That was
his university, his school of oratory, his library. The
principles and methods he learned there he adopted
and imitated in his subsequent political career. He
was the orator of the rabble all through life. He talked
like the rabble, lived like the rabble, ate and drank and
dressed like the rabble. He did this designedly for the
sake of swaying the rabble in his public speeches.
One witness testifies to this from Mr. Henry's lips :
" Mr. Chairman, all the larnin' upon the yairth air not
to be compared with naiteral parts." Yet to studies
LECT. VI.] WHITEFIELD'S EXAMPLE. 91
and abuses of this kind he owed at hist his power to.
send the House of Burgesess rushing from their seats
at the close of his description of a thunder-storm, or
rather his adroit use of one which occurred near the
close of one of his addresses. He was a representative
of the whole class of public speakers who are so delu-
sively called "natural orators." There are no natural
orators. They all study oratory in studying men.
Passing now to the pulpit, I name but one other
illustration, George Whitefield. His name is often
adduced as an example of untaught, spontaneous elo-
quence. He was no such thing. No man was ever
further from it. For patient, laborious, painstaking,
lifelong study of the art of oratory, give us George
Whitefield as the prince of students. Long before his
conversion, when he was a tapster in his mother's
tavern, he studied the English dramatic writers till he
knew large portions of them by heart. He personated
some of their female characters amidst rounds of ap-
plause from the villagers. Though sometimes intoxi-
cated, he composed sermons, and tried the effect of
them on the crowd around the doorposts. He stole
hours of the night for the study of the dramatic por-
tions of the Bible. Thus was it that the great field-
preacher was made.
One effect of these experimental studies on his own
mind was to create such a sense of the difQculty of
preaching well, that, after his conversion, he says he
never prayed against any corruption in his life so much
as he did against being tempted into the ministry too
soon. " I have prayed a thousand times," he says, " till
the sweat has dropped from my face like rain, that
God would not let me enter the ministry till He thrust
me forth to his work."
92 MEN AND BOOKS. [.^ct. vi.
In this spirit of reverence for his work, he became
through his whole ministry a student of his audiences.
He was incessantly trying experiments upon his con-
gregations. The same sermons he preached over and
over, till they were crowded with variations and im-
provements. Garrick, who himself owed much to his
study of Whitefield, said that Whitefield never finished
a sermon till he had preached it forty times. He
preached from thirty to forty thousand sermons, but
only about seventy-five have found their way into
print. This is some index to the extent to which he
must have carried repetition of the same discourses.
The pulpit is crowded with illustrations, either of
the neglect, or the use, or the abuse, of this study of
men as a source of homiletic culture. They might
be multiplied indefinitely, but it is needless.
(3)1 proceed, therefore, to remark that the same view
is confirmed by the opinions of a class of writers and
speakers derogatory to the value of rhetorical culture.
Oratorical study has to contend with the expressed
judgments of certain orators and writers who say that
it is useless. They have succeeded, as they imagine,
without it. They have refused to be hampered by it.
They have trusted to the instinct of speech and the
cravings of a full mind for utterance. They have but
filled the mind with thought, and then let it express
itself. They have followed the counsel they so often
give to young preachers, " Find something to say, and
then say it." They therefore dispute the value of all
conscious effort for oratorical discipline. Cicero, after
writing the " De Oratore," condemned books on rheto-
ric. Macaulay, though the author of criticism enough
to make volumes of rhetorical suggestion, decries con-
LECT. VI.] RHETORICAL STUDY. 93
scious study of rhetorical science. George William
Curtis in this country has reproduced Macaulay s judg-
ment with approval. He sums up the whole argument
by saying that rhetoric makes critics, but never orators
nor writers.
These men represent a class of writers and speakers,
themselves successful, whom every flourishing age of
literature has produced, and who have no faith in the
scientific culture of oratory for any other purpose than
that of mental gymnastics. Its direct practical value
they doubt or deny.
Test, now, these opinions by the actual experience of
such men, and what do the}^ amount to ? Simply this :
they are comparative opinions, in which abstract rheto-
ric is weighed against the literary discipline of real
life. Such critics have profited so much more from the
study of men than from the study of rhetorical treatises
that the latter sink into insignificance in the comparison.
Is it conceivable that Cicero's orations grew out of
innate, unstudied eloquence alone? His own confes-
sions contradict this. Is it imaginable that Macaulay's
style was the fruit of unconscious ebullition of power ?
A thousand years of criticism could never convince the
literary world of that. Is it possible that Mr. Curtis's
"Easy Chair" was never manufactured? If the styles
of these writers are specimens of spontaneous genera-
tion, the world does not contain any thing which is not
such. The immortal columns of Greek architecture aie
no more made, studied, elaborated things than are such
styles as theirs. Those styles have been originated,
compacted, adorned, polished, by laborious study of
speech and authorship in real life. Their authors have
studied rhetoric in embodied forms. They have prac-
94 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vi.
ticed it, as literary journeymen, in the mental collisions
and abrasions of public life. They lived it many years
before they could command their facile pen.
All opinions, therefore, of successful writers, deroga-
tory to the study of oratory, are to be taken as only
practical testimonies to the value of the study of it as
embodied in living men. Whatever may be the bear-
ing of them upon the scholastic culture of rhetoric,
they are the most emphatic witness possible to the
value of its practical culture through an elaborate and
lifelong study of mankind.
To recapitulate, then, the several aspects of the sub-
ject which we have considered : we have observed that
every preacher may obtain much oratorical culture
from the stud}^ of his own mind ; that he has a similar
source of culture in the study of other men ; that 'this
study is often undervalued, because of a factitious rev-
erence for books ; that this study should be stimulated
by that which is well known to be the popular idea of
a clergyman ; that the need of it in some quarters is
indicated by the idea of a clergyman which is most
common in literary fiction ; that the absence of it dis-
closes itself, not only in the unfitness of the pulpit to
its mission of reproof, but also in its unfitness to the
mission of comfort ; that we may learn something to
the purpose from the study of eccentric preachers ; that
the study of men is specially needful to educated
preachers, because the literature of the world is not
constructed, in the main, for the masses of mankind ;
that the need of it is enforced by the fact that often
great changes of popular opinion occur independently
of the cultivated classes as such ; that in suck popular
changes the clergy are the natural leaders of the peo-
LECT. VI.] SUMMARY. 95
pie ; that a certain minority of the clergy are found to
be insensible or hostile to such changes ; that, when the
pulpit becomes identified with the cultivated classes
alone, it loses power of control over all classes ; that,
when the pulpit betrays a want of knowledge of men
as they are, the result is the creation of anomalous rela-
tions between the church and the world ; and that the
study of men here recommended is supported by the
practice of leading minds in history.
You will not understand me as decrying scholastic
discipline in the comparison. On that subject I have,
in the sequel, other things to say. But I have wished
to establish at present this as one part of a preacher's
necessary and perpetual discipline for his life's work :
that he must be a student of men, himself a man of
his own times, living in sympathy with his own times,
versed in the literature of his own times, at home
with the people of his own charge, observant of the
movements of the popular heart, and aspiring in his
expectations of controlling those movements by the
ministrations of the pulpit.
That was a confession which no minister should
oblige himself to make, as a late professor in one of
our theological seminaries did in the last year of his
life, that for half a century he had read more Latin
than English. That was the mark of a mind whos«^
roots were in an obsolete age, and whose culture was
chiefly in a language, a literature, and a style of think-
ing, which never can again be dominant in the civili-
zation of the world.
LECTURE VII.
THE STUDY OP LITERATURE FOR CLERICAL DISCI-
PLINE.— OBJECTS OF THE STUDY.
II. We have observed in analyzing the sources of
our oratorical knowledge, that, while there is but one ori-
ginal source, an auxiliary source is found in the study
of models, and that in the term " models" we include
all successful and permanent literature. This exten-
sion of the term is essential. Our primary notion of a
model is limited. When a painter speaks of a model,
he means by it a painting, or the thing which is to be
transferred to canvas, and nothing more. When a
sculptor speaks of a model, he means by it the human
form, or a piece of statuary, and nothing more. In criti-
cism of poetry a model is a poem, and nothing more.
In military art a model is a historic campaign, or the
plan of a battle, and nothing else. That is to say, a
model has primarily a professional limitation.
When, therefore, a preacher conceives of a model, he
is apt to think only of a sermon, or at most of an ora-
tion. Consequently he is in danger of limiting his read-
ing for homiletic discipline to sacred or secular sjyeech.
The point, therefore, needs to be emphasized as a pre-
liminary, that we should not restrict our idea of models
to any such professional range. The advice often given
to young preachers in respect to their reading is nar-
96
LECT. vii.J DEFINITION OF "MODELS." 97
row, in that their attention is directed exclusively to
oratorical literature. In my judgment, that is not even
the chief source of homiletic culture derivable from
books. In the broader view, all successful and perma-
nent literature is a collection of models to an educated
mind.
The culture wliich a preacher needs from books is
substantially that which any other professional man
needs. Excepting the necessities of the profession, the
less his culture is narrowed by professional affinities in
its range, the better. Nearly the most meager prepa-
ration you could acquire for the pulpit would be the
'eading of the whole mass of English sermons, and
nothing else. Every book which is a book is a model
of something to an educated mind. By a preacher,
every book he reads should be read as a model of some-
thing. Whatever has achieved success, specially what-
ever has been long-lived, we may be sure contains
something, which, if intelligently studied, will be to a
preacher's culture what the torso of Hercules is to
sculptors.
Moreover, our conception of a model to a professional
man should not be limited to literature as distinct from
philosophy or from science. There is a distinction here ;
but it is not so important to a professional man as
to one whose life is made up of literary pursuits. A
mind moving in the orbit of a great practical profession
must be open to culture from any thing in our libraries
which represents the world's past or living thought.
Every su?h volume is a model to such a mind, in the
sense that it contains something helpful to its disci-
pline or its furnishing for its life's work. One young
preacher I knew, who found the most effective awakener
98 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vn.
of his own mind to original production in the study of
La Place's " Mechanique Celeste." Such are the occult
affinities between literature and science, that there is
a mental appropriation of them both by an alert mind,
in which the distinction between them vanishes.
Bearing in mind, then, the principle that the range
of a preacher's possible study of models opens to him
all standard libraries, the remarks I wish to make
upon the subject arrange themselves naturally under
the objects of the study, the selection of authors, and
the methods of the study.
1st, The Objects of the study of books : what are
they ? I answer, in the general. The object is discipline
as distinct from accumulation. Its results, when prop-
erly conducted, will never be the mere conglomeration
of knowledge. Its aim is discipline ; its process is
discipline ; its result is discipline. A certain mental
growth is the sum and substance of it. A man knows
nothing of the rudiments of the culture to which it
belongs who has not begun to be conscious of mental
growth under that culture. One of the first and most
profound impressions which the study of books should
make upon a man is that of the distinction between
literary labor and literary leisure. No habits like those
of a literary amateur can accomplish the object in view.
The aim is never a luxury, except in that stage which
mature discipline at length reaches, in which labor is
itself luxury. But, in particular, the chief objects of
a pastor's study of literature are four.
The first is a discovery of the principles of effec-
tive thought, and its expression in language. We all
come to the study of books with minds uninformed as
to what is excellence, and what is not. No man's lit-
LECT. VII.} DISCO V^ERY OF PRINCIPLES. 99
erary instinct is at the first a sufficient guide to his
literary judgment. What are the principles of effective
literature is a question to be answered by an after-
process to that of feeling the power of literature. It
is a process of reflection upon a previous experience.
It is as purely a process of discovery as a search in a
gold-mine.
Novalis said that painting was " the art of seeing."
So the true study of books is the art of seeing what
is and what is not there. You read, for instance, an
author who moves you. He stimulates your intellect;
he arouses your sensibilities ; he delights you, fascinates
you, elevates you to an unwonted height of mental and
moral excitement ; he becomes therefore a favorite with
you ; you feel grateful to him for his disclosure to you
of a new world of thought and feeling. At first you
have no disposition to any process of reflection. You
only feel, as Dr. Franklin felt his first hearing of White-
field. But by and by the time of reflective study comes.
You ask, What is it in my favorite author which makes
him what he is to me ? What are the roots of his pro-
ductions which make them such a vital and vitalizing
power to me? The answer, unless your experience has
been factitious, will disclose to you one or more of the
elements which make all vital literature a power to all
minds.
Until our minds go through that reflective process
of discovery, we know nothing of books as an object of
criticism. We have no intelligent tastes in literature.
We have no culture of scholarly judgment. We are, in
respect to libraries, in that inchoate state in which a
man often is in respect to painting, or sculpture, or
music, in which he honestly confesses, " I do not know
100 MEN AISTD BOOKS. [lect. vii.
what is artistic excellence, I only know what I like.'*
Exactly thus we might express our state of culture iu
literature before the critical taste is formed in us by an
introversion of mind upon our own instincts, and by
thought upon the objects which have pleased or roused
them. We do not know what is excellent in literarv
creation; we only know what we like. Whether oi:r
taste is true to any lofty ideal we do not know : we
only know what we like. A savage knows as much
when he struts around in his adornments of beads and
peacock feathers. A child knows as much when his
tears are dried at the jingle of nurserj^-rhymes.
On the other hand, the faculty of good taste under
high culture becomes one of superlative excellence.
It is an instance in which an acquired faculty rivals
original endowments of mind. We should not be
deceived by our associations with the word " taste." It
is the only single word by which our language expresses
the thing in question. Yet the word is unfortunate in
the multiplicity of its uses. We connect it so much
with millinery and upholstery and bijouterie^ if not
with the pleasures of the table, that we often carry it
into literature with degrading associations. We need
there to enlarge and ennoble it. It expresses there one
of the last and noblest results of mental discipline.
I can not call it virtue : usage calls it taste. " Virtue "
is reserved for a class of conceptions totally distinct.
Yet taste does express lofty intellectual character,
not moral character, but a development of intellect
which stands over against moral character, and corre-
sponds to it in dignity. By it we distinguish what is
true from what is factitious in letters. We penetrate
by it to that which is deepest in thought. We reach
LECT. VII.] FACULTY OF GOOD TASTE. lOl
that which, m literary expression, corresponds to integ-
rity in morals. We discern, therefore, that which is and
must be long-lived. Taste under high culture gives to
a scholar, not only knowledge, but foreknowledge, of
literary history. He learns to look into the future with
as much confidence as he feels in his knowledge of the
past. He pronounces judgment on certain works with
the confidence of an oracle. He says of them, " These
must fade : there is in them that which dooms them to
decay." Of other works he says as confidently, " These
will live : these express the soul of man and the voice
of God in forms which the world will not willingly let
die."
This finished taste represents a state of mental con-
quest. A man's own insight into the life of literature
becomes a law to him. He is an independent thinker,
reader, scholar, author, preacher. His own insight, if
it conflicts, as it sometimes will, with a popular taste,
gives him. repose, while that taste lasts, in the assurance
that it will be ephemeral. He can work on calmly in
his own way. He is like an eagle in his eyrie : he
knows that he sees farther than his contemporaries .
he knows as surely that he must succeed in the end.
Wordsworth expressed grandly this vision of the lit-
erary future, when he replied to the outburst of hostile
criticism w^ith which " The Excursion " was received at
the first. " This will never do," said Jeffrey in " The
Edinburgh Review." " It must do," responded the
poet, as if inspired. " I very well know that my work
will be unpopular ; but I know, too, that it will be im-
mortal."
The second object of a preacher's study of litera-
ture is that familiarity with the principles of effective
102 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vn.
tliouglit and expression which gives one a working
knowledge of those principles as distinct from a critical
knowledge. We need such an inwrought possession of
them, that, in our own productions, we can apply them
unconsciously. In the act of composing, the mind can
not pause to recall by sheer lift of memory a principle
of good writing, and then apply it by conscious choice.
This is specially true of select hours of composition.
All writers have such hours. Our best work is done in
such hours. The mind then is lifted by the impulse
of original invention. Thought is ebullient. An act of
creation is going on. The creating mind then must
seize involuntarily upon the forms of language which
lie nearest, and which come unbidden. Lawlessly,
rudely, arbitrarily, it uses those forms, so far as any
conscious selection is concerned.
If, therefore, we have not so learned the principles of
power in speech as to be able to apply them uncon-
sciously, we can not apply them at all. Therefore we
need to acquire such familiarity with those principles,
that our command of them shall be what the uncon-
scious skill of the athlete is to muscle and sinew.
In this view it is obvious that the familiarity of
unconscious use of principles of literary expression
marks a high state of mental discipline in respect to
executive skill. We have observed that the object of
literary study is discipline, not accumulation. We have
observed also that a full discovery of the principles
of taste marks a high discipline in respect to criticism.
The point now before us indicates an advance upon the
discipline of criticism. It contemplates discipline in
respect to executive skill. Such possession of the
principles of effective writing as that involved in the
unconscious use of them marks power of execution.
LECT. VII.] TASTE AND EXECUTION. 103
No man can have listened to Edward Everett or
Rufus Choate, for example, without being sensible of
the fascination of some of their prolonged and invo-
luted passages. They are marvelous phenomena of
executive discipline. Pages could be selected from
their writings in which the processes of reasoning, of
judging, of analysis, of comparison, of combination, of
imagining, of memory, of abstraction, and of invention,
all interlace each other in one marvel of expression.
The mental strain of producing the wondrous network
seems like torture to a critic who is looking on ; yet
those processes embrace each other with a kindliness
which makes them seem, to one who feels only the
naturalness of their evolution, like the play of spiritual
beings at their ease. We obtain a new conception of
the susceptibility of discipline which is in every mind
from such specimens of high art in discourse.
This view is confirmed by the fact that exquisite
taste often exists without executive skill. Eminent
critics are often not superlative writers. This is only
saying that they know more than they can do. The
reason is found in the distinction before us, between a
discovery of the principles of effective speech, and such
a possession of them as would secure unconscious obe-
dience to them in one's own productions. It has been
said of Lord Brougham, that in his own writings he
violates nearly all the rules which in his criticism of
others he prescribes. The critical study of books
tends to prevent such anomalies as this, by giving us
the principles of good writing in illustrated forms. We
most readily become familiar with them, if we have
them exemplified. The example which we enjoy will
tend to fix in our taste the principle which otherwise
104 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vii
it would be a drudgery to remember. Like all other
knowledge, that is most homelike to us which comes
through the medium of an experience.
This attractive knowledge of rhetorical principles
comes to us but very slightly from rhetorical treatises.
Some minds, it is true, may be fascinated by rhetoric in
its scientific forms, and for their own sake. Dr. Arnold
could honestly speak of Aristotle, after years devoted
to a study of his works, as " that dear old Stagyrite."
But very few minds are so affectionately constituted.
Few, therefore, attain to such passionate love of abstract
science in their studies. The large majority become
fascinated by such studies only through the medium of
example in favorite authors.
A fine illustration of this is found in the literary dis-
cipline of Dryden. Dryden is one of the acknowledged
masters of the English language. In his day he was
an autocrat in criticism. Nobody presumed to question
a decision by Dryden. Yet he says of himself, " If I
have gained any skill in composition, I owe it all to
Archbishop Tillotson, whose works I have read many
times over." One can not but marvel at his choice of
a model; but it illustrates the power of any choice
which a man makes with enthusiasm, and therefore
enjoys.
The same truth is illustrated in an interesting fact
in the literary history of Edmund Burke. I know of
no fact which furnishes a more instructive key to the
structure of Burke's mind. When he was about seven-
teen years old he conceived a passionate fondness for
the works of Milton. In a debating-club of which he
was a member, in Dublin, his Miltonic taste still exists
on record. Among other examples of it the record
LECT. VII.] LITERARY ASSIMILATION. 105
States that Burke rehearsed the speech of Moloch in
the " Paradise Lost," and followed it with his own criti-
cisms upon it. Thus it is that literary models Avhich
attract us fondly to themselves plant within us the prin-
ciples of effective speech which underlie those models,
and make them what they are. We much more cor-
dially, and therefore successfully, aim at resemblance to
a living character than at obedience to an abstract law.
This is as true in literary as in moral discipline. An
example is worth more than a rule. An illustration
has more authority than a command.
This view suggests a third object of a pastor's study
of books; viz., assimilation to the genius of the best
authors. There is an influence exerted by books upon
the mind which resembles that of diet upon the body.
A studious mind becomes, by a law of its being,
like the object which it studies with enthusiasm. If
your favorite authors are superficial, gaudy, short-lived,
you become yourself such in your culture and your
influence. If your favorite authors are of the grand,
profound, enduring order, you become yourself such to
the extent of your innate capacity for such growth.
Their thoughts become yours, not by transfer, but by
transfusion. Their methods of combining thoughts be-
come yours ; so that, on different subjects from theirs,
you will compose as they would have done if they had
handled those subjects. Their choice of words, their
idioms, their constructions, their illustrative materials,
become yours ; so that their style and yours will belong
to the same class in expression, and yet your style will
never be merely imitative of theirs.
It is the prerogative of great authors thus to throw
back a charm over subsequent generations which is
106 MEN AND BOOKS. L^ect. vii.
often more plastic than the influence of Ji parent over
a child. Do we not feel the fascination of it from cer-
tain favorite characters in history? Are there not
already certain solar minds in the firmament of your
scholarly life whose rays you feel shooting down into
the depths of your being, and quickening there a vi-
tality which you feel in every original product of your
own mind? Such minds are teaching you the true
ends of an intellectual life. They are unsealing the
springs of intellectual activity. They are attracting
your intellectual aspirations. They are like voices
calling to you from the sky.
Respecting this process of assimilation, it deserves
to be remarked, that it is essential to any broad range
of originality. Never, if it is genuine, does it create
copyists or mannerists. Imitation is the work of un-
developed mind. Childish mind imitates. Mind una-
wakened to the consciousness of its own powers copies.
Stagnant mind falls into mannerism. On the contrary,
a mind enkindled into aspiration by high ideals is never
content with imitated excellence. Any mind thus
awakened must above all things else be itself. It must
act itself out, think its own thoughts, speak its own
vernacular, grow to its own completeness. You can
no more become servile under such a discipline than
you can unconsciously copy another man's gait in your
walk, or mask your own countenance with his.
A fine example of assimilation as distinct from
mannerism is furnished by the literary history of Cole-
ridge's " Christabel." That poem on its first appear-
ance produced a profound impression. It was circulated
in manuscript among the scholars of England several
years before its publication. It is believed by good
LECT. VII.] ASSIMILATION AND OPINIONS. 107
critics to have exerted a powerful influence upon the
subsequent writings of Byron and Shelley and Sc( tt.
A casual reading of it in a little circle in which Shelley
was present affected him so deeply that he fainted.
Some of his poems published afterwards bore traces
of the poetic stimulus which his imagination then
received. Mr. Lockhart says that it was the hearing
of " Christabel " from manuscript which led Scott to
produce the " Lay of the Last Minstrel." It gave to
all those poets a conception of the possibilities of the
English language in freedom of versification, and spe-
cially in the expression of supernatural imagery, which
was new to them. Their minds drank it in, and ap-
propriated it, as flowers do light. Yet what critic has
ever thought to charge them with imitating '' Christa-
bel " ? Assimilation of it in their poetic culture ren-
dered mannerism in copying it impossible.
Further : it should be observed that identity of opin-
ions with those of a great author is no evidence of
assimilation to his genius. It no more follows that a
man has a Platonic or an Aristotelian mind because he
adopts Platonic or Aristotelian opinions than that his
body belongs to one or another of the molluscan species
because his digestion craves a molluscan diet. Assimi-
lation goes deeper than the plane of opinions. In any
broad culture it will be generous to diverse models.
From the fountains of conflicting opinions it will derive
the fluids of its own life, and they shall be all the more
pure and the more vital for the mingling.
It is a mark of a narrow culture that a man feels no
sympathy of resemblance to widely different characters
in the history of thought, even to those whose opinions
are in flat contradiction. Great minds are moj-e nearly
108 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vit
alike in their genius than in their opinions. Great and
sincere minds tend always to unanimity in their final
influence. A student of their works may become more
sensible of this than they themselves were. You ma}'
derive from them a more generous growth than they
had. You may feel the identity in spirit of the very
works in which, perhaps, they fought each other as
champions of rival factions.
Among the recent discoveries in Athenian architec
ture, it has been found that the lines of a Doric column,
which have for ages been supposed to be vertical, and
parallel to each other, are almost imperceptibly con
vergent as they ascend from the pedestal; so that, if
projected to an immense height above, they would meet
in a point. It is believed that the Greek artistic mind
adopted this model, not fortuitously, but with design,
to express thus the ultimate oneness of all ideas of
beauty.
So it is with the aspirations of great minds as ex
pressed in their works. They seem to run in grooves
of eternal parallels, in which they can never come
together. They might traverse the universe apparently,
and come around to the point of their starting, as defi-
ant of union as ever. But the great Architect of
mind has not so constructed them. An appreciative
student of their works may discern, what they could
not, — a point in the upper firmament of thought in
which the lines of their influence converge, and they
become as one mind in their projection upon the world's
future.
Do not all generous minds already judge thus of the
two great lines of thought represented by Aristotle and
Plato? Do not such minds feel the same ultimate
LKCT. VII.] HIGH CULTURE LIBERAL. 109
sympathy between the life's work of Leibnitz and of
Bacon? Do we not often catch glimpses of the same
destiny of union between Kant and the Scotch philoso-
phers ? Let a scholarly mind keep itself open and
receptive in its study, and it can not fail to experience
this consciousness of the convergence of the great
thinkers through the blending of them in its own
culture.
One advantage, therefore, of literary study, is that
it tends to liberalize mental culture in those lines of
thought in which culture is most profound. By such
discipline we become disinthralled from partisanship.
Be it in philosophy, in theology, in a3sthetics, in art, a
partisan spirit is sure to be outgrown. Positive as
our opinions may be, we spurn bondage to schools of
opinion. One of the most striking evidences often of
a young man's growth under such discipline as I
am advocating is, that he outgrows a school of some-
thing in which he was once an enthusiast, and uncon-
sciously a servitor. As we approach maturity of
culture, we become conscious that we have a culture
which lies deeper than our opinions, and which runs
under opposing schools.
Our expressed opinions may often be governed by
the wants of our own age or the business of our own
profession. They may represent but a fraction of the
entire circle of our beliefs. But a perfect culture
might master the beliefs of all ages, so as to hold all
the truth that was ever in them. Assimilation to the
loftiest in literature may give us a vision of truths
which minds of narrower discipline will ignore. Thus
expanded in its culture, a scholarly mind becomes
eclectic in its opinions in every thing. It becomes
110 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vn.
calm also in the utterance of them. It will be generous
to opponents in proportion to its trust in itself. It can
afford to cherish both these qualities of a liberal mind.
One other remark upon this point of assimilation to
the genius of literature is that from its nature it must
be the work of time. All mental discipline is such,
but this peculiarly : no man reaches it at a bound. A
sudden appearance of it in a man's professions is sus-
picious. He is probably self-deceived. His enthusiasm
for the great authors is probably not a genuine growth
into their likeness, but an upstart fancy for them, — for
their defects, it may be, rather than for their excellences.
It may be even so poor a thing as an affectation of
sympathy with their reputation, instead of a genuine
reverence for their character. In the nature of the
case, like all other enduring growths, a true assimila-
tion to the noblest ideals is the process of a lifetime.
A collegiate and professional education can do little
more than to plant the germ of it, and fertilize the soil
which shall nurture it through life.
LECTURE VIIL
OBJECTS OF A PASTOR's STUDY OF LITERATURI!, CON-
CLUDED. — THE ADJUSTMENT OF SELF-ADAPTA-
TIONS.
To the three objects of literary study already con-
sidered should be added a fourth, which is to facilitate
a man's knowledge of his own powers and adaptations
to professional labor.
It is unsafe to trust incautiously the early fascina-
tions of books or men over a young mind. Our earli-
est tastes may give us false ideas of our own capacities.
Specially do we need to study our favorite authors with
reference to our adaptations to our life's work. We
are not supposed to be mere literati by profession. We
do not study literature for its own sake and that only :
we have a laborious profession in prospect. Our studies
must fit us for that, or they may become a hinderance
to our life's work. We need to know our own adapta-
tions ; and that literary enthusiasm is a woful blunder
which misleads us in that self-knowledge.
The theory of Jesuitism in one respect is most in-
structive. The whole Jesuit policy turns upon the
adaptation of men to work, and work to men. The
Jesuit theory is, that every man is better fitted, or may
be made so, to one thing than to another ; and that
every work requires one man more imperatively than
111
112 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vm
another. It assumes to fit the man to the work, and
the work to the man, as precisely as Nature fits together
the brain and the skull. Jesuitism is wise so far as
this, that it lays the study of adaptations at the basis
in building an order of public men. That study must
lie at the foundation of the liberal professions, if they
are to be powers in the world.
The study of adaptations must form the clergy.
Under a free system, every clergyman must perform
that study for himself. For the want of it men have
often entered the ministry under a mistaken self-
estimate. Is it not one of the most obvious and pain
ful facts of clerical life, that men have entered the
ministry who would never have done so if they had
known seasonably their own natural qualifications?
Such men fight the air, through life it may be, because
they do not understand their own mission.
The importance of the error here indicated justifies a
consideration of it at some length, at the expense of an
excursus from our main-line discussion. The peril of
a wasted life in the ministry, through errors in self-
estimate, will be best illustrated by a case in hand. A
graduate of this seminary once came to me asking
advice respecting his abandonment of the ministry for
some other profession. He had been a pastor two
years. He was pleasantly and usefully settled. He
made no complaint of his people, nor they of him.
He did not wish for a different parish. But he thought
he had better leave the pulpit. Why ? The reason lay
wholly in the mental make and culture of the man.
He had inveterate tastes for a different line of mental
activity from the one which the ministry opened to
him. By natural constitution those tastes were pre-
LECT. VIII.] A pastor's mistake. 113
dominant in him. His collegiate training and his read-
ing had intensified them. He had denied them, and
chosen the ministry as a profession from convictions
of religious duty, as Pascal did under similar circum-
stances, but with no such mental rest in his choice as
Pascal experienced. He found that the practical duties
of the pulpit were a drudgery to him. He felt no intel-
lectual elasticity in them. To be a guiding mind to
others in the office of a religious teacher did not draw
out his aspirations. He seemed unable to make himself
what the Scriptures call "apt to teach." He had
struggled with himself two years in silence to force his
mind and body to do the bidding of his conscience, and
to do it joyously ; but the effort was undermining his
health. A nervous headache had become the invariable
consequence of a morning's work in the writing of a
sermon, and an afternoon given to chemistry or flori-
culture was the only remedy. He dragged himself
through another year of purgatorial fidelity to his
ministerial vows ; and then his health was so seriously
affected as to leave no question as to the path of duty.
He left the ministry, studied for three years another
profession, and is now contented, healthy, happy, and
useful in it, and as a layman is pronounced by his
pastor to be the most devoted and useful member of his
church.
One thing is certain of this case : it is that a wofu]
mistake was made at the outset for the want of a thor-
ough study of the man's own aptitudes. At least six
years of his early manhood were, not lost indeed, but
extravagantly expended on an experiment which a more
thorough self-knowledge would have prevented.
A similar experience, I think, in less degree, befalls
114 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vrn.
some men wlio remain in tlie ministry. Are they not
found in all denominations ? They work at cross-pur-
poses with Providence, because it is a long while before
they accept themselves for what they are. They at-
tempt things which they can not do, or as often they
fail to do things which they might do, because they dare
not attempt them.
The late Dr. Griffin used to say that he thought
Providence designed him for a metaphysician. I sup-
pose it is very certain that no other man who knew
Dr. Griffin, thought that Providence would have been
wise in any such designation of a man who was so
eminently an orator by nature and by training.
Dr. Chalmers expressed the opinion, that, as he said,
" Nature had cut him out for a military engineer." In
the public life which he afterwards led, he, too, thought
that his specialty of talent for public influence lay in
the department of intellectual philosophy. He proba-
bly stood alone in both those opinions to the day of his
death. Chalmers was by nature a statesman. In the
Church his great power lay in the discovery and the
use of administrative principles. The reach of his mind
in this respect was marvelous. He was in the Church
the counterpart of Edmund Burke in the State. The
thing in which consisted the greatness of both would
have prevented either from taking the first rank as
metaphysicians.
Professor Stuart believed, that, when he began his
public life, he had no special taste or aptitude for
sacred literature, or any department of philology ; but
no one else believed this of him after it was found
that the youthful pastor in New Haven, though crowded
by the care of the old " Center Church " in a powerful
LECT. VIII.] OBLIQUE USEFULNESS. 115
revival of religion, still kept his Hebrew Bible within
reach of his dinner-table, that he might devote to it the
fragments of time stolen from that meal.
Providence is often very kindly in pressing men into
a service which they would never have been wise
enough in self-knowledge to choose for themselves.
Yet often the wisdom of Providence is not regarded,
or the finger-point is not seen. Perhaps, like Nelson,
men turn their blind eye to the telegraphic order.
Then comes a long history of wasted ministerial
energy.
Ministerial energy, when it is not all a waste, is often
most extravagantly expended on the results it achieves.
Do you not know men in the ministry who have been
sailing obliquely all their lives ? All that some accom-
plish in the ministry is accomplished laterally to their
conscious aims. In their deliberate aims they fail ; in
incidentals to those aims, which Providence always
seems to be on the watch for in ill-regulated lives, they
succeed. The sum total of their work, when it shall
be tried as by fire, may be this, — relative uselessness
in the things they have aspired to, and relative success
in the things they have undervalued. To them is
fulfilled the promise : " Thou shalt hear a voice heUnd
thee, saying, This is the way ; walk ye in it." " The
door into life," says a living writer, " generally opens
behind us. A hand is put forth which draws us in
backward." This is eminently true of the professional
life of a certain class of ministers.
Here, for example, is a man who honestly thinks that
poetry is his birthright, while in fact his very make is
prose personified. The Muses were slumbering at the
hour of his birth. He wastes himself in rhymes which
116 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vin.
are "published for the author," — that rose-colored
gauze by which is covered the polite negative of pub-
lishers. This is literally true of one of the early grad-
uates of tliis seminary. Rather, it was true ; for I am
grateful, for his sake, that he has found rest in a world
where even he can aspire to no such poetry. He had a
wasted ministry here, so far as man could judge of it,
because he was for ever puttering at verses which could
command no circulation except by the anxious assiduity
of a blind man who made a pittance by their sale. An-
other man for several years sent to me by mail, as often
as about once a quarter, his poetic deliverances, printed
on tinted sheets at his own expense. Of their quality
what shall I say ? The old couplet in the Primer —
« In Adam's fall
We sinned all " —
is a gem in the comparison.
There is a man, who, like Dr. Griffin, because he
knows the difference between metaphysics and psy-
chology, imagines that intellectual philosophy is the
forte of his brain and the end of his creation ; while in
fact the elements of a popular orator are the constituents
of his nature, and those he despises. He wastes him-
self in attempts to settle the problems of the ages.
His book — the labor of his prime, and the darling of
his soul — is for sale at the bookstalls, on that shelf
which is so sad a monitor to aspiring authorsliip, the
shelf placarded with "Fifty Cents." Yet the pulpit,
if he would but lift his downcast eyelids to see it, would
be a throne to him.
One of the most successful preachers now laboring
in a city of the interior, when he left this seminary,
LECT. VIII.] ERRORS IN SELF-ESTIMATE. 117
endeavored earnestly to convince me that philosophical
study and authorship were the department in which lay
prospectively the design of his creation. Not one of
his instructors shared that opinion. His scholastic life
had throAvn a glamour around that group of studies, so
that, for the time, he saw nothing else. He did not
begin to be himself till the spell was broken by a reli-
gious awakening among his people.
Again : a man conceives that literary criticism, or the
study of languages, is his /orfe; while in fact his most
valuable talents are colloquial. He wastes himself in
struggling after a place in reviews, or piniig for a
professorship, when the place of honor for him, because
the place of richest usefulness, would be the pastoral
routine of a parish.
Another is persuaded, that, if he has any specialty
of fitness, it is to advance the Christian culture of the
more thoughtful and educated classes ; while in fact he
is only on a level with such classes. This deserves to be
noted as the most frequent error in self-estimate by a
certain minority of educated clergymen. Many such
preachers have culture enough, backed by natural force
enough, to go into classes of society below them, and
make their power felt there like a hydraulic engine. But
some of them waste themselves by aims at that which
they suppose to be the standard of pulpit eloquence in
cities. They do not understand why they are not more
thoroughly known by Providence, and by committees
of vacant metropolitan pulpits. It is astonishing how
many secret enemies such men have. Great is the mys-
tery of their life's trial. But the truth is, that the
church of a factory-village or a farming-town would
be more than the temple of Jerusalem to them in an
118 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vm.
eternal estimate of their lives; because, working on a
level below them, they could work with downright
power.
The mistake here indicated is one of the perils pecu-
liar to an educated clergy, — peculiar in degree, if not in
kind. No judgment is more hollow, none betokens more
ignorance of the philosophy of ministerial success, than
that sometimes cherished by a youthful preacher, that,
because he is an educated man, therefore he must min-
ister to educated men ; because he has acquired culti-
vated tastes, therefore his parish must consist of families
of cultivated tastes; because he has become familiar
with refined society, and has acquired the manners of a
gentleman, therefore his pastoral charge should be in
refined society, and his manners should have gentlemen
to appreciate them. If Providence does not order his
lot by the law of intellectual and social affinity, the
cause of Christ suffers a mysterious waste of ministerial
usefulness, and he suffers a mysterious eclipse. The
man has not found his place, nor the place its man, till
each is adjusted to the other by the satisfaction of
mutual similitude. Like must minister to like. This
is what it amounts to when we put it into the most
charitable form of plain English.
I speak of this as a frequent error among young
preachers, the most frequent of all that concern the
topic before us. I am glad that my observation enables
me to testify, that, with rare exceptions, it is but a
youthful folly, outgrown in the tug of real life and
under the pressure of eternal things. I have known
but one instance in which it extended into a preacher's
middle life.
The truth is, that the error is oblivious of one of the
LECT. VIII.] THE LAW OF INFLUENCE. 119
plainest principles of ministerial success ; viz., that, to
achieve any thing worthy of the clerical office, a minis-
ter must work from above downward. The ministry
is something more than a profession in which a man i?
struggling for a living, and a position among his equals
It is a grander thing than all that, — a thing of God's
making. It is a power from God, or it is nothing to the
purpose. Its work is that of a superior on an inferior
mind. The law of gravitation bids a laboring man to
work down hill with his spade and his wheelbarrow, if
he can. That law is not more imperative than the
spiritual law which bids clerical influence to flow from
above downward. Thus regulated, all culture is avail-
able in a preacher's work. Nothing else is like it in
the range which it gives to the worker. The highest
culture finds its use iii the lowliest labor. Often the
richest fruits of culture will be discovered in despised
spheres of effort. Mental discipline of the rarest finish
will find its reward in the exhaustion of its resources
upon ignorant and debased materials.
One of the most accomplished of our American mis-
sionaries spent her life in Africa. Her education, her
refinement, her tastes, her manners, would have graced
and elevated any metropolitan society. Yet her testi-
mony was, that she found use for them all in the Chris-
tianizing of savages. She was not conscious of one
wasted gift. She had no regrets over useless acquisi-
tions. Not a single accomplishment of her beautiful
youth — her drawing, her painting, her music — ever
lay idle. She was right in her judgment of herself
and her life's work. It v/ill bear the test of eternity,
whatever this world may say of it.
The same principle applies to ministerial labor every-
120 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. viit
where. Locality and surroundings have very little to
do relatively with its prospect of results. No other
work is so absorbent in its power to appropriate to itself
all the resources which culture can bring to it, even in
its rudest and most unpromising forms, provided only
that culture be wise enough to be humble, and to labor
on something below its own level. The clerical hand,
if it is a cunning one, will be always reaching down-
ward in its activity. There is an infinite sadness in the
sight of a minister of Christ turning from the level he
stands on to lift himself into the air above him, or strug-
gling horizontally on a stream that is level with his lips,
instead of being content to stand where he is sure of
his footing, and to work down upon the strata beneath
him. Any ignorance of himself which leads a man to
this inversion of his life's work may doom him to a bar-
ren and disappointed ministry. If in exceptional cases
this result does not follow, it is because the providence
of God sometimes compassionately provides an inferior
work for the man when it is impossible to develop the
man to the best work of his opportunities. But such
adjustments are adjustments to the man's infirmities,
not to his strength. He is never all that he might have
been. He is like the patriarch Lot, to whose whining
over the risk of climbing the mountain his guardian
angel gives way.
Details might be specified, if it were necessary, in
the work of the pulpit, in which there is sometimes a
certain proportion of waste, because energy is expended
in methods of preaching and styles in preaching (some-
times imitated methods and styles) which the preacher
can not execute well. It is a great thing for a man to
know what he can do. It is a greater thing to do tliat^
LECT. VIII.] MIS JUDGMENTS OF SELF. 121
and not something else, to aspire to it if a man i'. self-
distrustful, to come down to it if he is self-conctited,
to be content with it and grateful for it when he finds
it out. To have done any thing in such a service is a
thing to be grateful for for ever. " Permitted to preach
the gospel seven months " is the epitaph on the tomb-
stone of an alumnus of this seminary, who died before
he had a parish of his own. It was placed there at his
dying request.
It is not always, I do not think it is generally, any
unusual defect of piety which leads to these distortions
of clerical life. It is chiefly the want of self-knowledge.
I mean that this is the weight which turns the scale
adversely to a man's usefulness. Whatever be his moral
delinquencies, if he is a man of genuine consecration at
heart, they will give way if they are not protected by
honest intellectual misjudgments. The moral growth,
on the other hand, is greatly expedited by the mental
rectitude, when once gained. Therefore I say, that, in
respect to the point before us, the chief want is the
want of a correct self-estimate. No matter how it is
gained, whether through the heart or through the brain,
the critical need is that of a full measurement of self in
comparison with other powers in the world, like that
which life in the business of the world very soon forces
upon a man of sense in reference to capacities for suc-
cess in the business of the world. For the want of this
gauging of one's self skillfully, the early years of min-
isterial life are often like those of a young landsman
before the mast.
Returning, now, from this excursus^ and applyiug
these views to the main topic before us, let us observe
the bearing of a study of books upon the discovery of a
122 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. vm.
man's own adaptations. We have already given ample
space to the study of men as one expedient for a min-
ister's culture. We have now to observe, as tending
to the same result, the self-discipline which comes from
literary pursuits. Until a man knows a certain amount
of thf work of the great minds in literature, he has no
adequate standard by which to gauge himself.
It has become a truism, that self-educated men are
but half educated. They are apt to blunder into errors
which the educated mind of the world has long ago
exploded. They announce as original discoveries that
which the history of opinion long ago recorded and as
long ago refuted. They seem to themselves to be origi-
nal in processes of mind which a better knowledge of
libraries would teach them are the common property
of thinkers. Much as a man gains from actual conflict
with living minds, he may gain much even of the same
kind of knowledge, though different in detail, from the
accumulated thinking of the past. No living genera-
tion can outweigh all the past. If books without expe-
rience in real life can not develop a man all around,
neither can life without books do it. There is a certain
dignity of culture which lives only in the atmosphere
of libraries. There is a breadth and a genuineness of
self-knowledge which one gets from the silent friendship
of great authors, without which the best work that is in
a man can not come out of him in large professional
successes.
Disraeli says, " The more extensive a man's knowl-
edge of what has been done, the greater will be his
power of knowing what to do." He adds substantially,
that those who do not read largely will not themselves
deserve to be read. This is doubly true in view of the
LECT. VIII.] SELF-APPRECIATION. 123
effect of reading upon a man's criticism of himself.
The whole class of romantic ambitions which have been
illustrated will almost surely disappear from a young
man's mental habits, if he gains the consciousness of
thorough scholarship in even one line of study. The
juvenility of such ambitions is discovered in the pro-
cess. The cost of their indulgence to a man's executive
force in a great practical profession takes its proper
place in his estimate of them. He learns the magnitude
of that which must be done to realize them by adding
any thing to that which has been done. One of the
unerring signs of this mental growth in a young man is
a certain sobering of tone in his judgment of himself,
which springs from an expansion of his studies. It is
to character what the ripening of colors is to painting.
The character is enriched by the very process which
subdues its exuberant confidence. This view is too well
known among educated men to need further expansion.
But there is another view, not so often recognized,
which deserves more attention than it receives. It is
that the study in question stimulates self-appreciation,
as well as represses self-conceit. You may learn for the
first time of the existence of certain powers within you,
from the awakening of those powers in response to the
similar gifts of other minds distinguished in literature.
Your own enthusiasm awakened by good models may
disclose to you susceptibilities and powers which you
never conjectured as existing within you.
Sir James Mackintosh gives it as the result of his
experience as an educator, that, with all the evils of
self-exaggeration among young men, the evils of self-
depreciation are greater. Among Christian young men
this certainly is true. Many young men are not sufQ-
124 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. viri
ciently aspiring. They do not aim at labors whicli are
within their reach, because they are not immediately
conscious of power to perform those labors. Nor will
they be conscious of it till some inspiration from without
awakens it in them. That inspiration often comes from
a simple extension of literary study. Give to yourself
a hearty, affectionate acquaintance with a group of the
ablest minds in Christian literature, and, if there is any
thing in you kindred to such minds, they will bring it
up to the surface of your own consciousness. You will
have a cheering sense of discovery. Quarries of thought
original to you will be opened. Suddenly, it may be,
in some choice hour of research, veins will glisten with
a luster richer than that of silver. You will feel a new
strength for your life's work, because you will be sen
sible of new resources.
There is no romance in these assertions. The only
peril in making them is, that the class of minds who
need them, and of whom they are true, are not the class
who will most readily appropriate them to themselves.
Still they express a truth, wliich, with all its perils, we
do right to accept, and apply with inspired adroitness,
saying, " Let him that readeth understand."
A very striking illustration of this kind of mental
awakening, on a large scale, from the study of literary
models, is found in the transition of European mind
from the middle to the later ages of the Christian era.
The dark ages, as we call them, followed the entire loss
of the Greek and Latin classics. The effect of that loss
was an almost entire oblivion of good models of literary
expression. The mind of the middle ages strove to
work alone : it began de novo the history of letters. The
consequence was the suppression, for the time, of the
LECT. VIII.] REVIVAL OF LETTERS. 125
natural genius of those ages. It never rose from that
depression till the ancient literatures were recovered.
Gasparin of Barziza, one of not more than three or
four minds to whom is due the credit of starting the
revival of the ancient classics, says that he gave himself
to the study of Cicero till his own instinct was devel-
oped within him, by which he could judge of the Latin
language, and till his own power to use the language
grew to maturity under that single discipline. The
study of one author developed him to his maturity. It
was the recovery of the Greek and Roman treasures
which stimulated the awakening of the genius of the
middle ages, as it was the loss of them which had
originally depressed it, and enslaved it to vitiated tastes.
What is true of national minds is as true of individuals
and of orders of public men. Let the ministry be igno-
rant of the best authors of the past, and their own
powers will lie undeveloped in proportion to the depth
of that ignorance. Lift them out of such ignorance,
and their own powers receive an original impulse in
proportion to the extent and the depth of their scholar-
ship.
It is one object, then, of a pastor's study of literature,
to reduce and to elevate his estimate of his own powers.
The object is to restrain and to stimulate, to check and
to cheer. If a man is inclined to see himself at either
end of the telescope, the right study of models of lit-
erary excellence will act as a corrective, and give him
his natural eyesight. I know of nothing else that is
better fitted to give temper to a young man's criticisms
of his own productions, so that his judgment shall be
calm and clear, as keen as steel, and yet as true, than
a large acquaintance with those works which have
become monumental in Christian literature.
126 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. viii.
To recapitulate, and to distinguish clearly the four
objects which we have now considered, I observe that
the first, the discovery of the principles of taste, will
tend to make a correct writer ; the second, the famil-
iarity with those principles, will tend to make a natu-
ral writer ; the third, assimilation to the genius of the
best authors, will tend to make an original writer;
and the fourth, a just estimate of his own powers, will
tend to make both a modest and a courageous writer.
In other words, the first develops a man's literary per-
ceptions; the second, his literary skill; the third, his
literary genius ; the fourth, his good sense in literary
aims.
LECTURE IX.
SELECTION OF AUTHORS FOB PASTORAL STUDY. —
PRELIMIKARY HINTS. — CONTROLLING MINDS IN
LITERARY HISTORY.
2d, We have thus far considered the objects of a
pastor's study of literature. The second thing to be
regarded in that study is the selection of authors.
Rogers the essayist remarks that " a very useful book
might be written on the art of reading books, if we
could get a Leibnitz or a Gibbon to compose it." True :
yet the reading of the majority of educated men must
be governed so much by circumstances which can not
be controlled by any theory of scholarship, that I think
the hints which are necessary on the subject must be
susceptible of very flexible application. Scarcely any
subject of professional inquiry is less capable of rule.
Of the principles which concern it, two preliminaries
need to be first remarked. The first is, that in practice
these principles will cross and qualify each other. Any
one of them alone would be one-sided and impracti-
cable. They must be considered singly, yet applied
collectively ; and each must be subjected to limitations
by the others. Otherwise, as literary advice, they
would be nonsense.
The second preliminary is a repetition, for the sake
of emphasis, of a remark already made in the preface of
127
128 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. ix.
this volume, and which will be treated more at length
in the sequel, — that, at the best, scholarly principles of
selection can suggest only an ideal of a pastor's use of
books, which must be in many cases theoretic, but out
of which each man may obtain the elements for forming
his own. Some can use more of it than others.
I have hesitated whether to venture at all upon the
question of a pastor's selection of books, I am so well
aware that practically that selection can seldom, if ever,
satisfy a scholarly ideal. But to make any selection
wisely, of even a few volumes, a pastor must have a
scholar's ideal in mind : therefore I attempt it, trusting
to your good sense to see the limitations and qualifi-
cations which the conditions of your life's work render
necessary. One book which deserves a scholar's read-
ing is worth for a pastor's discipline a dozen of inferior
quality.
(1) With these preliminaries in mind, let it be first
observed that we must put out of our account of lit-
erature vicious and worthless books. A book may be
vicious in literary influence, which is not immoral. It
may foster false principles of taste, and minister to
degraded conceptions of scholarship. A book may be
worthless, which has no positive power for evil. A
book which is a negative quantity in the sum total of
our acquisitions is a worthless book. Menzel, in his
history of German literature, says, "Bad books have
their season, as vermin have. They come in swarms,
and perish before we are aware. How many thousands
of books have gone the way of all paper, or are now
moldering in our libraries ! "
We make a stride of advance into the heart of a
seemingly unconquerable library when we have accus-
LECT. IX.] DEAD AND LIVING BOOKS. 129
tomed our minds to the reality of bad books in that
which goes by the name of literature. Books false in
principle, corrupt in taste, effeminate in influence, or
negative in all that respects high culture, are to be
found in all our large collections. There are books
which once had some force for good or ill, but which
the world has outlived. A man has no more use for
them now than for an Arabic work on alchemy or
magic. Hundreds of such volumes are to be reckoned
in all libraries which are reckoned by thousands.
There are folios of commentary on the Scriptures,
works in criticism, works in philosophy, which have
been displaced bodily in the living thought of mankind,
and which will never be resuscitated except by anti-
quarian curiosity.
That which De Quincey calls the "knowledge-litera-
ture " of the world, as distinct from the "power-litera-
ture," is incessantly changing : it is constantly retiring
to the attics and lofts and inaccessible shelves of libra-
ries, unread and forgotten. Later knowledge must
for ever crowd back into oblivion the earlier. Such is
the law of- progress. If a displaced literature is re-
stored by antiquarian research, it is of no use ; for, as
Horace Walpole says, " What signifies raising the dead
so often, when they die again the next minute ? "
We need, then, to begin our studies with an agile
effort of good sense to distinguish between books which
are living literature, and books which are dead. Do not
revere every thing which appears between two muslin
covers. Remember Charles Lamb's demand for " books
which are books." It is a partial relief from the night-
mare which one feels in the vision of a huge library, to
remember that there is a vast multitude of volumes, as
130 MEN AND BOOKS. [lkct. ix.
comely as any to the eye, and as tempting to the bibli-
ographer, which are not living literature in any scholarly
sense of the term or for any scholarly use in real life.
We can no more use them for the purposes of a living
civilization than we can use mastodons and ichthyosauri
as beasts of burden.
Further : we need not adopt any very limited range of
the term " literature " in order to rid ourselves of them.
We need not be so chary of the title as to withhold it,
as Professor Henry Reed does, from professional and
technical and sectarian books. A much more liberal
policy than this will serve the purpose ; for the works
to which I refer, as related to scholarly culture, are
useless to us in any way whatever. No profession, or
art, or sect is served by them. They are not models
of any thing but ignorance, or vicious taste, or self-
conceit, or puerile fiction, or exploded and superannu-
ated science. They are the paralytic literature of the
world. It mumbles to us in thickened speech, and
with distorted visage. Let us cover up its deformity
compassionately, and pass on.
I do not pause to specify more narrowly what these
volumes are, because practically our exclusion of them
is necessitated by other principles of selection, even
more imperatively. It is essential, however, that this
principle be firmly lodged in our minds at the threshold
of our advance, — that we must not read, even in a
cursory way, every book we happen to lay our hands
on, nor look with awe upon every volume we have to
strain our eyes to see in our libraries.
(2) A second principle of selection is, that we must
abandon the idea of universal scholarship. The Hon.
Mr. Toombs of Georgia is reported to have once said
LECT. IX.] UNIVERSAL SCHOLARSHIP. 131
that he could carry the treasury of the Confederate
States of America in his hat. Probably it could have
been put into less space than that. So, I suppose, the
time must have been when all extant literature could
have been committed to memory, and covered by one
hat. But it is a truism which we often seem to forget,
that no man can perform that achievement now.
The idea of literary omniscience long ago became a
fable. It was true when foxes talked with hares, and
frogs were erudite philosophers. Comparatively speak-
ing, no very large portion of the literature now stored
in the world's libraries can be known to any one mind.
It is the cant of literature which makes pretensions to
the contrary. Division of labor is nowhere more im-
peratively demanded than in scholarly reading. The
wisest scholar of the age must be content to die in
ignorance of the greater part of what other men have
known, and to possess an equal proportion of that
which he does know only at second-hand.
It is the right of every pupil in any branch of learning
to receive cautiously the oracles which professors are
apt to give, I must confess, more authoritatively than
their own acquisitions justly warrant. A single fact
speaks more than a homily on this point : it is, that the
mechanical process of reading those books which are or
have been the standard literature of their times would
require more than three thousand years. Such is the
estimate of a respectable English critic. If Homer had
begun the labor at twenty years of age, and read till
this time, he would still have had two hundred and
fifty years of it before him. If Plato had been set to
the task by the immortal gods of Greece, he would not
by this time have got beyond the discovery of America.
132 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. ix
Dante and Racine and Goethe and Shakspeare would
still be unknown to him ; and Wordsworth and Bryant
and Longfellow he would never have heard of.
It is evident, then, how little of the wisdom of the
past any living man can know within the limits of one
lifetime. This conviction forces itself upon extensive
readers sooner or later. It is well to admit it " sooner "
rather than *' later." Robert Southey, one of the most
voluminous readers that England has ever produced,
at the age of fifty years writes : " After all, knowledge
is not the one thing needful. Provided that we can
get contentedly through the world, and to heaven at
last, the sum of all the knowledge which we can collect
by the way is infinitely more insignificant than I like
to acknowledge in my own heart."
What, then, should be the influence of this impossi-
bility of universal scholarship upon our literary plans ?
I answer in three particulars. One effect of it should
be to prevent our wasting ourselves in impracticable
plans of study. Every young man should take the
measure of his time, his physical health, his degree of
independence of other avocations, and specially his
power of mental appropriation. Then his plans of
reading should be adjusted accordingly. No other one
habit is so unproductive to a student as that of omnivo-
rous reading. The space which such a reader traverses
in libraries is no evidence of his culture. The most
useless men living are the bookworms who are nothing
more. There are men who devour books because they
are books. They read as if they fancied that the me-
chanical process of trotting doggedly through libraries
were the great business of a life of culture. Such men
can not possess sound learning.
tKCT. IX.] RESTRICTIONS OF STUDY. 133
A writer in ''The Edinburgh Review" very justly
satirizes them as " entitled only to the praise of being
very artificially and elaborately ignorant. They differ
from the utterly uncultivated, only as a parrot who
talks without understanding what he says differs from
a parrot who can not talk at all " You have made
a great discovery when you have found oat what is
and what is not practicable to yourself. Carlyle, ad-
dressing the students of the University of Edinburgh,
said to them : " It is the first of all problems for a man
to find out what kind of work he 's to do in this uni-
verse." So is it the first of problems in the details of
a scholar's life to find out what he can do. To attempt
impracticable plans of reading is one of the most dis-
couraging of literary mistakes. It leads many young
men every year to abandon all hope of a scholarly life.
Another effect of the fact before us should be to pre-
vent our minds from acting feverishly under the neces-
sary limitations of our reading. We should submit to
the literary privations of our lot gracefully. No man
will do his best in literary effort till he can work con-
tentedly. Our early efforts are often inflamed by a
certain heat of blood which indicates a chafing of the
spirit against the restrictions of time and sense and
finite faculties. That is a bad absorbent of literary
energy. We must rid ourselves of it. We must aban-
don the ambition, which Fontenelle says he indulged in
early life, " of driving all the sciences abreast." At the
basis of our culture, in this respect as in others, we
should lay our religious principle. By prayer, if need
be, bring your mind into a state of contentment with
the limitations of human knowledge, and of your own in
particular. You have made some progress in the culture
134 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect ix.
of a manly habit of study, if, with an earnest sense of
the dignity of an educated life, you can spend an hour
alone in a large library, and can come out of it with a
perfectly equable and happy resolution in your own
life's work.
Says the late Professor Reed of Philadelphia, " It is a
bewildering tiling to stand in the midst of a vast con-
course of books. It is oppressive to conceive what a
world of human thought and human passion is dwelling
on the silent paper, how much of wisdom is ready to
make its entrance into the mind that is prepared to wel-
come it. It is mournful to think that the multitudinous
oracles should be dumb to us." Who of us does not
understand this mourning over inaccessible knowledge ?
Yet we have no reason to mourn. The restrictions
upon our knowledge are a part of our discipline ; and,
as we have seen, discipline, not accumulation, is the
great object of a scholarly life, as it is of every life.
Gibbon was one of the most laborious of readers ; yet
he says, " We should attend, not so much to the order
of our books as of our thoughts. The perusal of a
work gives birth to ideas. I pursue those ideas, and
quit my plan of reading." Gibbon in this remark hits
the vital point. A book is valuable for the ideas it
starts in the mind, rather than for those it puts there.
The book depends more on what you bring to it than
on any thing you take from it. No knowledge is of
vital moment to a man, which is not thus reproductive
within him, which does not, in some sense, work itself
into character. Of knowledge we need so much, and
only so much, as we can assimilate to ourselves in some
form of character. If to possess less than that is a
misfortune, to possess more is no blessing. The mind's
LECT. IX.] POWERS OF CONTROL. 135
capacities can be no more than full. We have no more
reason to mourn over unconquerable departments of
knowledge than over inaccessible planets and angelic
travels. Contented with our literary limits, we can
advance to our life's work buoj^antly.
The third effect of the view we have taken should be,
that we should regard a choice selection of volumes as
the first step to success. This is obvious. We should
make an elaborate selection of the best only. If we
can read but one volume in a year, let that one be wor-
thy of a scholar's ideal of good reading, all the more so
because it is but one. Our chief peril is that of allow-
ing ourselves to be impelled by the pressure of our pro-
fessional avocations down an inclined plane, from the
scholarly upland to which our collegiate training lifted
us, to a level so low that no scholarly eye can recognize
us fraternally. Read only the best, therefore. Then
the whole remaining literature of the world should be
as irrelevant to any purpose of ours as the cinders of
the library of Alexandria.
(3) The third principle of selection should be, that
we rank first in our estimate those authors who have
been controlling powers in literature ; not necessarily
first in the order of time in our reading ; not, indeed,
that we must read all of them at any time ; not, as we
shall see in the sequel, that all of us must read any of
them outside of our own vernacular, but that we should
mentally give them the first rank, in point of intrinsic
worth, as models of the noblest culture. What we do
read we should select and read under the elevating
influence of this recognition of what is the best.
In stating this principle, I purposely speak of our
estimate of literature, rather than of our personal study
136 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. ix.
of it, because the exigencies of professional life will
not permit every pastor to read largely in this regal
literature of all the ages. Because Plomer was in one
sense the father of all poetry, it does not follow that
every pastor in Oregon, and every missionary in Africa,
should read Homer. We shall return to this qualifica-
tion again in a future lecture : at present it is sufficient
tc note that we should rank the authors in question as
the first in our scholarly judgment.
Taking the standard literatures of the world together,
there is a group of names which all scholarly judgment
has placed at the fountain-head of the streams of thought
which those literatures represent. They are the origi-
nals of all that cultivated mind has revered in letters.
They have been powers of control. The world of mind
has recognized them as such. Their names, therefore,
float on the current of all times. In any enlightened
age and country they become known to schoolboys.
Several suggestions respecting them deserve notice.
First, They are not numerous. In any one of the
standard literatures of the race you can number this
order of imperial minds on the fingers of one hand. In
the Hebrew literature, not more than three ; in the
classic Greek, not more than three ; in the Hellenistic
Greek, only two ; in the Roman, possibly two ; in the
Italian, only one ; in the French, less than that ; in the
Arabic, the Spanish, the Scandinavian literatures, none ;
in the German, only three; and in the English, but
four.
Of coarse, opinions would differ in the assignment of
individuals to groups so small as these ; but they would
not differ as to the main assertion. I do not assume to
speak ex cathedra on this matter. I have sought to
LECT. IX.] FRENCH LITERATURE. 137
enlighten my own judgment by correspondence with
scholarly readers in several departments in which they
are acknowledged experts. I discard, also, as I have
remarked before, the technical restriction of the term
" literature " by which philosophy and science are ex-
cluded. That restriction is not germane to the purp-ose
now in view. An original philosopher, for instance,
may give character to a nation's thought for centuries
with such authority that no technically "literary" au-
thor shall equal or approach him as a national power.
It is the great powers over national thought that we
seek to discover in such an estimate as the one now
before us. As the result, therefore, of the means of
judgment which I possess, I should reckon the world's
royal names in literature as follows ; viz., in the Hebrew
tongue, Moses, David, and Isaiah : in the classic Greek,
Homer, Plato, and Aristotle ; in the Hellenistic Greek,
St. Paul and St. John ; in the Roman, Cicero and Virgil ;
in the Italian, Dante.
In the French I have said, "less than one," because
no mind among French scholars has, so far as I can
discover, exerted a formative and permanent influence
outside of France itself. Some critics would name
Voltaire among the first class of authorship ; but his
influence outside of France has been short-lived. Even
among his own countrymen, I am informed that few
French authors of equal eminence are so little read
to-day. Scarcely any works of solid French literature
find so poor a sale as those of Voltaire. His fame and
his influence were at their height among his contempo-
raries, and have been steadily declining ever since his
last triumphant entrance into Paris, shortly before his
decease. The ruling influence of France in modern
138 MEN AND BOOKS. [ikct. ix,
civilization has been in politics more than in literature.
If Descartes deserves a place in so select a group as I
have in mind, I confess that my imperfect knowledge of
his writings and of the opinion of experts about them
does not qualify me to affirm it, and perhaps I ought
not therefore to deny it. Let my impression pass for
what it is worth.
The Arabic, the Spanish, and the Scandinavian liteia-
tures have all of them fallen into the second and thud
ranks of authorship. In the German I should follow
the general voice of German critics in selecting the
names of Goethe, Schiller, and Kant. In the English,
after much hesitation, I assign the first rank to Chau-
cer, Shakspeare, Bacon, and Wordsworth, — to Chaucer
as the historic head of English poetry, to Bacon for
his influence on the national mind of England in all
departments of thought, to Wordsworth as having revo-
lutionized English poetic tastes, and to Shakspeare as
the " myriad-minded," the poet of all times and nations.
I hesitate in excluding the name of Milton ; and many
would dissent from the position which I assign to
Wordsworth. But for this I have the authority of
Coleridge. It may interest you to know that one of the
most accomplished critics in our own country, to whom
this classification has been submitted, added to the
English quadrilateral the name of Hawthorne as being
an absolute and solitary original in English letters.
The main point, however, to be noted, is that all
scholarly opinion would limit the authors of the first
rank in literary influence upon national mind to very
few in number. The marvels of genius are like cen-
tury-plants. Ages of mediocrity often separate them.
They are elect spirits, and generally they are given
only to elect nations.
LECT. IX.] PERPETUITY OF LITERATURE. 139
This suggests, further, that these authors of the first
cLass claim their rank by virtue of their power over
otlier literature. They have given to national litera-
tures their great impulses of development. Their
names mark epochs of growth. They have been awak-
ening powers. Multitudes of other great minds, who
but for these would never have been great, have been
aroused by these the greater. We can not appreciate
the other literature of the world without knowing the
creative power of these few originals. No man knows
well the Greek development of mind, who does not
know Homer and Plato. No man knows the Italian
graft upon the Latin stock, who does not know Dante.
No man knows the ripening of Christian civilization
in the English mind, who does not know Chaucer and
Bacon. And no man can judge profoundly of all the
existing drifts of culture, who does not know, or who
refuses to recognize as literature, the writings of David
and Isaiah and St. Paul. This historic position of a
very few names along the line of the world's advance-
ment would be sufficient to attract attention to them,
as the first in rank of representatives of what the mind
of the race has thought and felt and expressed in liter-
ary forms.
Again : these authors of the first order claim their
position by reason of the perpetuity of their influence.
They live while others die. All poetry feels to this
day the impulse of Homer: all philosophy feels the
impulse of Plato. German literature abounds with
commentaries on Shakspeare, and calls him inspired.
No Italian scholar becomes eminent in any department
of thoiAght, without paying tribute to Dante. No
modern thinker in Europe or America climbs to pre-
140 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. ix.
eminence as a power with his contemporaries, except
on the ladder which Bacon has erected. Everywhere
those minds which represent most prophetically the
literature of the future are those which are most pro-
foundly imbued with the literature of the Hebrews.
Wordsworth, speaking of the ancient classic literatures,
says, " We have appropriated them all ; " and of Mil-
ton he says, " He was a Hebrew in soul."
This immortality of the few royal minds of the past
is the ultimate test of their authority. Nothing else
proves a thing as time does. Nothing else gives author-
ity like the unanimity of ages. It is not safe for a
young man to dissent from such authority as this. It
is virtually the voice of the common sense of mankind.
Says Coleridge, "Presume those to be the best the
reputation of which has been matured into fame by the
consent of ages." If there is any truth in universal
convictions, every mind that is intent on scholarly
culture will sooner or later seek its most enduring
impulses, directly or indirectly, from those few ideals
which the common consent has pronounced the grand-
est, the most symmetrical, and the most intense. That
is a foolish waste in one's policy of study which leads
one needlessly to sacrifice those ideals by expending
one's enthusiasm on their inferiors.
Yet it should be observed that in the study of this
class of authors, with the exception of the inspired
writers, we do not seek direct contributions to our pro-
fessional labors. We do not seek to appropriate their
contents bodily, but their scholarly influence. We are
not ferreting out examples for imitation. We are not
preparing to quote Homer in our sermons, nor to preach
Lord Bacon or Shakspeare. The weakest possible
LEOT. IX.] GREAT MEN NOT SCHOOLMEN. 141
preacliing may be that in wLicli our study of these
authors is visible. They are to exist in our own work
only by the transfusion of their genius into our own
mental character. We seek to be mentally uplifted by
them. The least significant part of their usefulness to
us will appear in the form of quotation. Indeed, one
of the perils of extensive reading, to be watched and
shunned, is that of excessive extract from other authors.
Avoid a mania for quotation: a great deal of literary
cant appears in that form. You will soon note in your
reading two classes of authors who quote little. They
are those who are the most original, and those who are
the most profoundly sincere.
Further : the study of this first class of authors has
a special tendency to promote independence of provin-
cial narrowness in our culture. The secret of the
perpetuity of their power is, that they are universal in
their adaptations. They appeal to and they represent
elements which are innate in human nature. They are
independent of sect, or class, or school. Hence comes
their literary autocracy. Schools may have grown out
of them, but they were never schoolmen. They did
not aim to found schools. No man was ever less of a
Platonist, in the sense of a Platonic partisan, than Plato
himself ; no man was ever less of a Baconian, in the
scholastic sense, than Bacon himself. What schools of
poetry did Homer and Shakspeare found? Schools
grow up with smaller minds. They would be as offen-
sive to those whose names they bear as the apostolic
beets were to Cephas and St. Paul.
A preacher, therefore, by drinking in the spirit of
such authors, imbibes a constitutional antidote to con-
tracted tastes, to narrow opinions, and to cramped
142 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. ix
methods of worldng. Let a young scholar drink deep
at these fountain-heads of power, or absorb their influ-
ence from the atmosphere around him, and he must do
violence to his whole scholarly nature if he becomes a
bigot or a cynic. You will discover, if you take pains
to observe it, that often purely theological extremes
and distortions of opinion are corrected or forestalled
by a purely literary culture. Such are the affinities
of all truth with all truth, that breadth of culture any-
where tends to produce breadth of culture everywhere.
Who, as a rule, are the most liberal thinkers in theol-
ogy ? In whom do you find the most evenly balanced
faith? Are they not the men of profound and en-
larged literary sympathies ? On the other hand, if you
find a preacher who holds and tries to preach an im-
practicable dogma which outrages the common sense of
men, can you not affirm safely beforehand that he is a
man of contracted reading ? He knows little or noth-
ing of the great creators of the world's thought in
libraries. When, for example, I hear that a celebrated
English preacher has been heard to say that the reason
why God permits the wicked to live is that " He knows
they are to be damned, and is willing to let them have
a little pleasure first," I know without inquiry that that
preacher is not a man of books. I venture to affirm
that he has never read Spenser's " Faerie Queene."
It is doubtful whether he could with a clear conscience
read Shakspeare. Such a ferocious notion in theology
never could survive contact with the regal order of
minds in literature, even the most remote fi^om theo-
logic thought. It is the property of a little mind, fed
by little minds, and sympathetic with no other.
To these suggestions it should be added, that, to
LECT. IX.] WASTEFUL READING. 143
these authors of the first rank, inferior literature should
be largely sacrificed. The chief peril of a prea ther in
his reading is suggested by this remark: it is that he will
devote a disproportionate amount of time to ephemeral
books. We are apt to sacrifice the great powers of lit-
erature, not of design, but by neglect. The reading
of the majority of educated men, I think, is wasteful.
We read newspapers and magazines indiscriminately.
What do we want to know of the murder in North
Street last night, or the forgery in State Street last
week? William Prescott the historian used to in-
struct his secretary, in reading to him the morning
newspaper, never to read about an accident or a crime.
He applied to his newspaper the same eclectic econo-
my of time which he practised in exploring the Spanish
archives.
Stern self-discipline should adjust the proportion of
our reading. It is well to read such an author as Car-
lyle ; but by what right do we neglect for his sake
such writers as Bacon and Milton ? It is well enough
to know Byron as the representative of a certain phase
of English poetry; but what principle of scholarl}^
policy justifies our sacrifice to him of such an author
as Dante ? What axiom of economy leads a preacher
to buy Hood's poems, when he is too poor to own a
copy of Shakspeare? or to purchase the works of
Thomas Moore, when he can not afford to own Words-
worth? Who can, without a twinge of scholarly con-
science, spend an hour a day over the newspapers of the
week, when he has never opened even a translation of
Schiller? If I am rightly informed, merchants in active
business do not feel able to spare half of that time for
their morning paper. Is the accumulation of money
144 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. ix.
of SO much more value than the accumulation of brains ?
In these suggestions, however, I have in mind the habits
of a healthy scholar, not those which disease has de-
moralized.
I once took up from a student's table a book of three
hundred duodecimo pages on the culture of poultry.
I took occasion to ascertain from him afterwards that he
had never read a page of Spenser's '' Faerie Queene,"
and he did not know who wrote the " Canterbury Tales."
On another occasion I took from the shelf of a young
pastor's library a book of nearly equal dimensions with
the other, on the breeding and training of horses. Pos-
sibly a cramped salary may com^^el a pastor to own such
a book, as his wife must own a cookery-book ; yet in
the case in question there was no such economic neces-
sity, and I learned from that pastor that he had never
been able to " wade through," as he expressed it, a his-
tory of the Reformation. What business has an edu-
cated man, not pressed by the necessities of poverty,
to be plodding through the literature of the farmyard
when three-quarters of Westminster Abbey are unknown
to him?
An earnest scholar will sacrifice much that is useful
in inferior literature, if his knowledge of it must be
purchased at the cost of acquaintance with names which
must outlive it a hundred years. Dr. Arnold says,
" As a general rule, never read the works of any ordi-
nar}^ man except on scientific matters, or when they
contain simple matters of fact. Even on matters of
fact, silly and ignorant men, however honest, require
to be read with constant suspicion ; whereas great men
are always instructive, even amidst much of error. In
general, I hold it to be certain that the truth is to be
LECT. IX.] BIBLIOMANIA. 145
found in the great men, and the error in the little ones."
Pascal said that he had left off reading the Jesuits,
because, if he had continued it, he must have " read a
great many indifferent books."
Once more : not merely worthless literature should
be sacrificed, but, for the sake of the best, we must
sacrifice much which would be very valuable to us if
we had not the best. Pliny said that no book had ever
been written which did not contain something profitable
to a reader. Leibnitz and Gibbon, both of them vora-
cious readers, expressed the same opinion. One of the
most rapid and voluminous readers and writers of our
own day once told me that he had never read a book
which did not give him some new thought.
These judgments, with qualifications, are true ; yet
they do not justify that bibliomania which leads a man
to seize upon the book which lies nearest to him, because
it is a book, and because something or other can be got
from it. We must sacrifice a great many good books.
We must let go our hold upon much which would be a
model to us if we had no better. We must force our
way grimly through the heaps of them which bestrew
our path in order to reach the smaller but weightier
heap which lies beyond. Otherwise we shall be very
large readers of comparatively small thought. Our
culture will suffer from a plethora of little books. The
after-clap of their reading will be more distressing than
that of the little book in the Apocalypse.
LECTURE X.
SELECTION OF AUTHORS, CONTINUED. — PREDOMI-
NANCE OF THE ENGLISH LITERATURE.
Before proceeding to consider other principles bear-
ing upon a pastor's study of books for homiletic culture,
let a moment be given to a plausible objection to the
principle already advanced, that we should exalt to the
first rank the few controlling minds in the world's
literatures. It is urged that that principle would prac-
tically doom a pastor to reading nothing but the ancient
classics, or at best to waste himself on dead or foreign
languages.
I have in the sequel much to say of the practicability
of literary study to a pastor. But for the present, and
in application to the point in hand, I answer. The objec-
tion is often a valid one. Therefore I have said that
we should rank first in our estimate of literature the
authors of first rank. Then we should read them, if
we can. This is the practical summary of the principle
before us. But, further, it is not impracticable for the
majority of pastors in active service to know the lead-
ing authors in foreign literatures through translations.
The prejudice against translations is not sensible. It
was originated when literature was less voluminous
than now. Ralph Waldo Emerson reads translations,
and respects them. His reading would have been
146
LECT. X.] READING TRANSLATIONS. 147
restricted vastly, if lie had not done so. Who sup-
poses that he gets his quotations from the originals of
the Veda and of Confucius?
It is not impracticable, then, for the majority of pas-
tors to read translations of Homer and Plato. It is
not impossible to own, and to read in some vacation, so
readable and so portable a book as Carey's -'Dante."
For the intrinsic value of Dante's "Inferno," let me
cite the opinion of Mr. Prescott the historian. H-
says that he deems it " a fortunate thing for the world
that the first poem of modern times should have been
founded on a subject growing out of the Christian reli-
gion, and written by a man penetrated with the spirit
of its sternest creed. Its influence on literature has
been almost as remarkable as that of Christianity itself
on the moral world." It surely is an irreparable loss
to the culture of a preacher to remain through life igno-
rant of such a poem. So of Goethe's " Faust " and
Schiller's " Robbers." Coleridge's translation of Schil-
ler's " Wallenstein " and the " Piccolomini " would pro-
mote a double purpose by giving }■ ou German classics
in splendid English poetry. One might select twenty
or thirty volumes of English translations which would
give to a hard-worked pastor, not by any means a mas-
terly knowledge, but a very useful and usable knowl-
edge, of the best authors in the great literatures of the
world outside of the English tongue.
Again: it is not impracticable for all pastors to
exercise the sinrit of this principle in the selection of
authors of our own language. Every educated man
can read and enjoy the great writers in English litera-
ture. We can spend our time on these rather than on
the little ones. In doing this we may really imbibe
148 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. x.
inucli of the best literary culture of all times and coun-
tries. The great authors of England have fed upon
the ancient and the modern continental literatures of
Europe. Wordsworth was right when he said, " We
have reproduced all that." He was right to this ex-
tent, that English literature has reproduced in Christian
forms the best of all that Pagan literature ever was.
(4) The principles of selection in literary study
already discussed need to be qualified by a fourth
principle, which is, that, in our choice of authors, the
literature of the English language should predominate.
You have no reason to think meanly of your acquisi-
tions, or to apologize for them, if they are limited to
your mother-tongue. In the majority of cases a pas-
tor's reading will be limited thus, be his theory of read-
ing what it may. In such a case he has no reason to
be ashamed of the necessity. This view is contested
by good critics ; and I approach it with a sense of the
difficulty of expressing to you what I believe to be the
exact truth, without being misunderstood. Yet my
conviction is the growth of years, that, if there is one
l)eril greater than another to our scholarly habits, it is
that of doing injustice to the literature of England.
Intense as our national spirit is in other respects, it
does not rise to the level of the birthright we possess
as inheritors of the treasures in the English tongue.
In a discussion of the subject, we have to encounter,
in the first place, a prejudice which attributes superiority
to whateTer is foreign. The distant, the strange, the
unknown, the half-known, awes a cultivated mind often
as it does the rudest. We are apt to stand agape at
the wisdom locked up in a foreign speech, as children
do in listening to foreign conversation. Did you never
I.ECT. X.] THE ANCIENT CLASSICS. 149
experience this? I must confess to having stood mo-
mentarily in speechless wonder, in my first efforts to
acquire the German language, because a German truck-
man in the street could talk the language so much more
volubly than I could, and a dray-horse, in understand-
ing him, was my superior. Yet as senseless as that is
the feeling which underlies much of the preference
often felt for foreign literatures above our own. If in-
dulged with equal knowledge of the literatures brought
into the comparison, it is literary cant. This is the
ground. of the pre-eminence given to the French lan-
guage in some schools for the education of women.
Then, in approaching the question of the worth of
the English literature, we encounter the atmosphere
which is created by our system of training in the
ancient classic languages. Our collegiate system we
have taken chiefly from the English universities. Those
grew up at a period when England had no literature
of her own. The reverence then paid to the ancient
classics was normal and necessary. Generally speaking,
there was no other literature which deserved reverence.
The revival of the ancient learning created for the
modern mind the only models in existence which were
of superior finish for the purposes of liberal culture,
except the sacred models of Palestine. The new enthu-
siasm for learning must have looked to Athens and
Rome, or nowhere. Hence arose that profound rever-
ence for what is called classic study, which tinges the
university system of England, of which the American
college is an offshoot. That reverence is not a whit
too profound absolutely ; but it is, by a vast proportion,
too exclusive relatively.
Our usage by which we designate the ancient litera-
150 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. x.
tures by the term " classic " is an evidence of the depth
to which the preference of the ancient authors over
every thing English is embedded in our scholarly inher-
itance. It is as if nothing English could deserve the
title of a classic, i.e., of a model for the education of
mind. English authorship has been compelled to con-
tend for its right to the name in its own language. A
youth of to-day is at first confused when he hears the
phrase "English classics."
Our collegiate discipline — and here lies the precise
point of its defect, in my judgment — preserves no just
proportions between the ancient and the English clas-
sics. The English literature is a fact to which it does
no justice in its theory of the education suitable to an
English or an American pupil. This literature is now
the accumulation of centuries. It is expanding with
every decade of years. Yet who of us ever obtained
in our collegiate experience any very exalted conception
of it as compared with the Greek and Latin models ?
I think I speak the experience of a majority of educated
Americans in saying that a sense of the classic rank of
the English literature is a discovery, which, for the most
part, they have to make for themselves after they have
left our collegiate and professional schools. It dawns
upon us as a novelty when we begin to extend our Eng-
lish reading. When we do admit it, when the glory of
our native literature forces it upon us, we feel a sense
of regret that the discovery has come to us so late in
our mental history. We turn to our own language,
then, with sometliing of the rebound with which we
spring to a long-neglected virtue.
Again : the presumption is always in favor of the pre-
eminence of the literature of one's vernacular tongue in
LECT. X.] VERNACULAR LITERATURE. 151
one's culture, if that tongue has a literature. If a lan-
guage has no literature, tlie mind to which it is vernacu-
lar is so far a barbarous mind. Culture, in the high
sense of the term, is impracticable to it in its native
tongue. But, if a language has a literature, that litera-
ture is an expression of the national mind. It is a prod-
uct of tliat mind. Of that mind, the man himself is
a fragment ; his own mental structure is a part of the
growth which has made the literature. He sustains to
it, therefore, a relation which he can not sustain to any
embodiment of foreign thought. It is a relation of
sympath}^ and kindred. The very life-blood of thought
flows to and through him by means of the vernacular
arteries, as it can not by transfusion from any foreign
fountains.
Says Dr. George P. Marsh, " Deep in the recesses
of our being, beneath even the reach of consciousness,
or at least of objective self-inspection, there lies a cer-
tain sensibility to the organic laws of our mother-
tongue." He elsewhere adduces two facts in proof of
this. One is, that a man's vernacular language, though
forgotten, " can never be completely supplanted or sup-
plied by another ; " and the second is, that those who
grow up speaking many languages very seldom acquire
complete mastery over any one of them. That which
is true of linguistic acquisition is doubly true of liter-
ary culture. The secret sympathies of mind with truth
in the vernacular speech more than realizes Words-
worth's fancy of the communings of the seasheli with
its native ocean. No man can do violence to those
sympathies without a loss in the breadth and natu-
ralness of his own development. The confusion of
tongues bears every mark of a curse upon the race. It
152 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. x.
is an evil of incalculable magnitude, that we must
derive so much of our mental training through other
media of expression than that which we grow up with,
and grow into as our minds expand from childhood.
Experience in the conducting of foreign missions
confirms these views. The original idea of foreign
missionary work, and the one which first roused Chris-
tian enthusiasm most profoundly, was that the heathen
world must be Christianized mainly by the agency of
preachers sent from Christian lands. I heard in my
boyhood the claims of foreign missions urged on Ameri-
can Christians and students for the ministry, on the
ground that thousands of preachers must be sent from
Christian countries, outnumbering by multitudes the
whole Protestant clergy of the world. " How shall
they hear without a preacher? and how shall they
preach except they be sent?'' was the text. Inspired
authority for it seemed to be given at the outset.
Experience has corrected all that. It has proved
that heathen nations are not to be reached, any more
than Christian nations, in the large masses, by a minis-
try which to them is foreign, trained in a foreign civil-
ization, pervaded by foreign modes of thouglit, and
using their vernacular under the embarrassments cre-
ated by the mixture of the idioms of a foreign speech.
It has long since become trite that the great bulk of
the work of Christianizing the heathen world is to be
done by a native ministry trained originally by foreign
teachers, but ultimately taking the work into their own
hands. Minds created under the influence of the lan-
guage spoken by a people are needed to become con-
trolling powers in the Christian civilization of that
people. The secret sympathies with vernacular speech
run very deep. We are all ruled b}^ them.
tECT. X.] STUDIES OF AMATEURS. 153
Applying this principle, then, to our own prepara-
tions for the American pulpit, I contend that if a Greek
or a Latin, or a German literature, or all combined, have
for us claims superior to those of our English speech,
it is a thing to be proved. Perhaps it can be proved ;
but the presumption, in the nature of things, is against
it.
Further : the utility of a man's culture, other things
being equal, requires the ascendency in it of the litera-
ture of his native language. Culture is for use, not for
display, not for literary enjoyment mainly. The weak-
est education is that which is aimed at display. The
highest homoeopathic trituration of the educational
ideal is that of a modern French boarding-school for
young ladies. It is worthy of the " nugiperous gentle-
dame " whom the ''Simple Cobbler of Agawam" de-
scribes as '' the very gizzard of a trifle, the product of
a quarter of a cipher, and the epitome of nothing."
But the most selfish education, and therefore the nar-
rowest of all educational ideals which may be respec-
table for strength, is that which is directed to literary
pleasure.
The danger from this source to the integrity of a
pastor's studies justifies a brief excursus at this point
upon the selfish ideal of a scholarly life. No concep-
tion of life, not grossly sensual, can be formed, which is
more odious for the intensity of its selfishness than the
life of a man of letters who is that and nothing more,
with no aims in his studies but those of an amateur
student. A studious man in dressing-gown and slip-
pers, sitting in the midst of a choice library which is
adorned with works of art and costly relics of antiquity,
yet from which not a thought goes out to the Intel-
154 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. x,
lectual or moral improvement of mankind, is a model
of refined and fascinating selfhood. Under certain
conditions it may do more evil than the life of a
libertine. Walter Scott's ideal of life, as expressed in
the building and furnishing of Abbotsford, was not
the true ideal of a Christian scholar. For their influ-
ence on the tastes of educated men, give me rather the
drinking-songs of Robert Burns. These are the less
seductive to such men, and carry their antidote on
the face of them. Prescott the historian pronounces
the mental luxury of successful composition one of the
two most exalted pleasures of which man is capable ;
the enjoyment of a reciprocated passion for woman
being the other.
Conceive of a man so constituted, or so trained to
literary enjoyment, that he can honestly say, as Buffon
did of his hours of composition, " Fourteen hours a day
at my desk in a state of transport ! " It is not difficult
to see that such a man's life may become as selfish in
its literary enjoyment as that of another man in his
sensuality. Is there not, indeed, a class of literary
men who suggest to us the doubtful query whether
they have any large, generous sympathy with their
kind ? Their studies are conducted with a stolid indif-
ference to the questions which are agitating the masses
of mind underneath them. At a sublime altitude above
such problems as those which involve the salvation, the
liberty, the education, the bread, of the millions, these
favorite sons of literary fortune dwell in an atmosphere
of rarified selfishness, from which comes down now and
then a sneer at the boorishness, or a fling at the fanati-
cism, of those who are humbly striving to feed the
hungry, and clothe the naked, and save the lost.
LECT. X.] LITERATURE AND PROFESSIONS. 155
Give us rather the literary spirit of Milton, Avho
returned from his tour in Italy, and gave up his pro-
jected visit to the Acropolis of Athens, '' because,"
said he, " I esteemed it dishonorable in me to be linger-
ing abroad, even for the improvement of my mind,
when my fellow-citizens were contending for liberty at
home." Dr. Arnold was so sensible of the peril of
literary selfishness, that he held firmly to the opinion
that literary pursuits '' should never be a profession by
themselves." They should be an appendage always to
some business or profession which should keep a man's
mind healthy by interesting him in the questions of
real life and in his own times. Speaking of Coleridge's
" Literary Remains," he says, " There were marks
enough that his mind was diseased by the want of a
profession. The very power of contemplation becomes
impaired or perverted when it becomes the main object
of life." Mr. Froude the historian has been heard to
say, that, if his son sought to make literature his profes-
sion, he would oppose it as he would an imprudent
marriage. Yet Froude speaks from experience of the
error which he condemns. A pastor's life meets pre-
cisely the conditions which such critics deem most
healthfully conducive to success in literary study. Lit-
erary labor held by the necessities of a profession in
adjustment with the real world we live in, and made
tributary to great and unselfish uses, — this is the
Christian ideal of a scholar's life.
Yet, returning to the main point before us, this is one
of the most cogent reasons that can be urged for giving
pre-eminence in our culture to the literature of our own
language. We belong to the English-spealdng stock.
With the exception of foreign missionaries, the Ameri-
156 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. x
can clergy must find their life's work among an English-
speaking people. If heathen preachers were prepared
to carry on the Christian work efficiently, they would
do it among their own countrymen more efficiently
than you can do it.
It is not merely the accumulations drawn from our
vernacular, and applied to direct use in our labors,
which will fit us most effectually to influence the minds
of our countrymen. It is more than these : it is the
very breath of mental life which we take in from the
literature of our vernacular. It is the very essence of
all there is in us which gives us claim to be called edu-
cated men, and which qualifies us for intellectual and
moral leadership. We must derive this chiefly from
our vernacular literature to fit us to influence most
effectively those who speak our vernacular language.
That literature is an expression of their minds as it is
of ours. That language is a medium of more than
speech between us and them. It is a medium of mag-
netic currents of brotherhood. Speak English, and
they understand you. Think in English, and you think
their thoughts. Feel the pulsations of an English cul-
ture, and you feel the throbs of their heart. Live in an
English literary atmosphere, and you live near to their
level, — far enough above them to insure their respect
for you as their superior, yet near enough to them to
feel yourself at home with them, and make them feel
at home with you.
Let me, in passing, notice one phenomenon in the
history of theological education which I do not en-
tirely understand, but which illustrates the peril into
which an educated preacher sometimes falls. It is
that foreigners educated for the pulpit in this country
LECT. X.] ANGLICIZING FOREIGN LITERATURE. 157
are seldom inclined to spend their professional life
among their own countrymen. A German educated
here seldom wishes to preach to Germans; or a Jew
to Jews ; or a Swede to the Swedes of our north-west ;
or a Welshman to the Welsh churches of Pennsylvania.
I have repeatedly known them to struggle with the
infirmities of an imperfect knowledge of the English
language, and persist for years in the conflict with
the adverse influences they encounter among American
congregations, rather than to preach in their vernacu-
lars to their own countrymen. Even a black man I
have known to throw away the advantages of kindred
race to lift himself up into competition with the white
race. Such struggles are among the saddest mistakes
in professional policy. They are struggles against
nature. They abandon invaluable advantages ready to
one's hand, for the sake of others which must be gained
by years of toil, and which, if gained, never can equal
the treasure lost. A preacher, above all men, should
never abandon his vernacular if he can help it. As
well may a fish leap out of the sea.
Even those contributions to our culture which we
receive from foreign sources need to be Anglicized in
our use of them. They should be received with Eng-
lish tastes, seen with English eyes, interpreted with
English idiom, wrought into our opinions under the
superintendence of English discipline, and adjusted to
our use with a certain sifting and weighing process
conducted with a heavy preponderance of English
habits of thought. Every literature which is trans-
ferred from its native soil to be used as an exotic in
another land needs to be passed through some native
mind of that land, which shall act in a spirit of loyalty
158 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. x.
to its own language. Otherwise that exotic literature
can not be largely useful there. It will not be useful
because it can not be used. No national literature is
ever dug up, and transported and replanted bodily.
The living forces of a nation's libraries can not migrate
in any such way. Laws of national character repre-
sented by diversities of speech forbid such violent
transitions.
Therefore nothing dooms a man to greater sterility
in the pulpit than the attempt to import whole the
spirit of a foreign culture. Sermons to an Anglo-
American audience, founded upon an exclusive or
ascendant German model, expressive of German habits
of thought, clothed in German idioms, though in Eng-
lish words, are useless, — necessarily so, though they
may not contain an error or a distortion. I once knew
a pastor, who, under the pressure of severe pastoral
duties, preached to his people through a winter, on
Sunday afternoons, a free translation of the sermons
of a German preacher. He was dismissed in the
spring. Similar would be the tendency of German
sermons to a German audience expressive of English
culture alone. The same is true if the ancient litera-
tures have predominated in the forming of a preacher's
mind.
Said a clergyman of high repute in the ministry, " I
always fear for the result when I see a very scholarly
man enter the pulpit." The remark was founded on
his observation of the fact that eminently scholarly
men are often alienated unconsciously in their tastes
from the national mind of their own country. They
live so much in dead or foreign languages, among
modes of thought which are alien to those of their
LECT. X.] FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 169
own times and kindred, that they do not syir pathize
with their audiences, and therefore have no magnetic
power to move them. No literature is so universal in
its adaptations to the mind of the race as to be abso-
lutely independent of its national history. Even that
of the Bible is not so. It is Jewish in its type and
spirit. We can not use it with power until we Angli-
cize it. We are obliged to bring to it our own minds,
trained in the school of English thought, and to receive
it into our own culture as into English molds, before
we can reproduce it in English sermons to which the
sympathies of an American audience will respond.
De Quincey entertained such strong convictions on
the subject of servitude to foreign languages, that he
said the act of learning a new language was in itself
an evil. " Unless balanced " by other studies, he de-
clared it to be "the dry rot of the human mind." He
expressed more temperately the true principle of cul-
ture in this respect by saying to a young man, "So
frame your selection of languages, that the largest
possible body of literature available for your purposes
shall be laid open to you at the least possible price
of time and mental energy." " The largest available
for your purposes : " this is common sense. And to
every man of English or American stock, except a
professional philologist, it requires the subjection of
every thing outside of the English tongue to acclima-
tion in the atmosphere of English libraries.
LECTURE XL
PSEDOMTNANCE OF THE ENGLISH LITERATURE, CON-
TINUED.— ITS INTRINSIC SUPERIORITY.
In addition to that which has been already remarked
of the predominance of the English literature in a
pastor's studies, it should be further observed, that, all
things considered, the English literature is intrinsically
superior to every other. In the preceding Lecture we
claimed this superiority for it on the ground of profes-
sional usefulness. It is now claimed on the ground of
intrinsic worth. I repeat the qualifying clause of the
statement, " all things considered." It is a foolish par-
tisanship in learning to decry any of the great collec-
tions of wisdom which represent the growth of great
nations in intellectual power. That man has one of the
elements of scholarship yet to acquire, who is unable to
admit the inferiority in some respects of that which, as
a whole, may be his favorite language and his dearest
resource of thought.
I do not wish to assert extravagant claims, still less
to speak magisterially of literatures in which I am not
at home. I assume to give you only the judgment
which is founded upon that knowledge of our own
literature which is current among educated men, and
is supplemented by the judgment of other literatures
expressed by men whose knowledge entitles them to
160
LECT. XI.] THE ENGLISH LITERATURE. 161
be received as authorities. In a sober estimate thus
formed I must think that our own literature heads the
list. The grounds of this judgment are numerous, and
they underlie the whole discussion of what is and what
is not vital in the current of a nation's thought. We
can do little more than to glance at them with remark
sufficient to indicate the line of argument.
In the first place, the argument is narrowed in its
range by the fact that but few of the literatures of
the world can enter into the account at all. There
have been but few great literatures in history. You
will easily recall them. The only great ones of anti-
quity are those of Palestine, Greece, and Rome. The
Egyptian, the Arabic, the Hindoo, the Chinese, are all
provincial. They are all either infantile in character,
or lateral to those lines of culture which have projected
themselves with power of control into modern thought.
Those secondary literatures had no power of reproduc-
tion. They were eddies in the stream and along the
shore of civilization.
Then, of the modern literatures, all that can bear
comparison with each other are theEnglish, the French,
and the German. No intelligent scholar would place
by the side of these the Italian, the Spanish, the Portu-
guese, or those of the Scandinavian nations. It is at
the head of these imperial literatures which have made
and are making the deepest grooves in history, that I
would place the work of the English mind as a whole,
and as a means of culture to be used upon the world of
the present and the future.
This is, furthermore, presumptively true, because the
English literature is the expression of a composite order
of mind. Nations, like individuals, are subject to physi-
162 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xi.
ological laws. One of these laws is, that virility of
national mind is proportioned to the intermingling of
virile races. Mental power does not flow in the iso-
lated currents of national being which aristocratic
jealousy has kept running for centuries in the channels
of pure blood. In this relation of things pure blood is
weak blood. It runs low, and grows pale. It is what
Shakspeare calls " pigeon-livered." Mental force flows
rather in the crosses and reduplications and interfusions
of diverse and even contrary elements of being. Con-
quests which bring warring elements into one solution
are essential to the best intellectual resultant. The
best national mind in the history of civilization is what
the composite column is in architecture. It consists
of a union of eclectic forces. We can not designate
it briefly and yet more definitely than by terming it a
composite mind.
Just this the English mind is in its make. The Eng-
lish literature is an expression of such a composite
mind. There is no other spot in the Old World into
which so many diverse streams of life-blood have
flowed as into the British Isles. Not a full-blooded
race in all the northern and central parts of Europe is
unrepresented in the present blood of Great Britain.
Those are the cool regions, where forceful men are
made by the very elements. This is a vital fact, that
the cool zones of Europe have poured their populations,
either for colonization or conquest, into the original
reservoir of the British Empire. Germany and France
have both contributed some vital vigor through the
Angles, the Saxons, and the Normans, to the living
English.
Dr. George P. Marsh finds linguistic evidences, in the
LECT. XI.] THE ENGLISH MIND. 163
structure of the Anglo-Saxon dialects, of a marvelous
commingling of tribes in the early invasions of Britain.
He pronounces the linguistic evidence of such a com-
mingling more conclusive than the historic evidence.
" Diversity, not unity, of origin," he says, is indicated
by the structure of the Anglo-Saxon. There is no evi-
dence that any one people ever spoke it outside of
Great Britain. It bears internal signs of having grown
up there from heterogeneous elements imported from
abroad. Moreover, philologists think they find traces
of the same heterogeneousness of origin in the modern
dialects still existing around the North Sea, the district
from which the early invaders of Britain came. In
no other part of Europe, it is said, are there so many
forms of language, within the same area, which are not
intelligibly interchangeable, as are found there. Such
philological phenomena all point to the fact of a most
remarkable solution of ingredients foreign to each other
in the original compound which forms the basis of the
English tongue. And what the English tongue is in
thh respect, the English mind is, from which our litera-
ture has sprung, and of which it is the immortal expres-
sion.
It is accordant with all the laws which govern the
growth of national minds, that a literature which is the
natural representative of such a composite mind in
books should be, as a whole, the superior of the litera-
tures springing from the provincial resources which
have been tributaries to the stock of that mind. The
" Father of Waters," it is to be presumed, has a volume
and a momentum exceeding those of any one of its
feeders.
The same law which in this respect has made our
164 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xi.
literature what it is, is now operating anew in our own
country to make our literature what it is to be. Races
are intermingling here to an extent unprecedented
since the Gothic conquests of Rome. New blood is
flowing in from every source on the globe which con-
tains the elements of national vigor. It is borne hither
in the veins of the most enterprising and athletic
classes of the old nations. Such are always the migrat-
ing classes. They are the classes in which family stock
has a future. It has not spent itself in the vices and
luxuries of a decadent civilization. Such migratory
hordes always carry with them the germs of great
nations. That virility which first appears in the
growth of numbers and of material prosperity will by
and by show itself in a new stock of composite mind.
This, again, will reproduce and prolong under new con-
ditions the national literature. It must be English at
heart, but broadened and deepened to represent the
mind of a new world.
The claims of the English literature to pre-eminence
in our culture are confirmed by a third fact ; viz., that
the English as compared with other literatures is pre-
eminently a literature of power as distinct from a
literature of knowledge only. Turn to De Quincey's
"Essays on the Poets." In his essay on Alexander
Pope you will find very clearly expressed a vital distinc-
tion between the literature of power and the literature
of knowledge. The function of the literature of knowl-
edge is to teach : that of the literature of power is to
move. " The first is a rudder ; the second, a sail." To
illustrate, he inquires, " What do you learn from the
' Paradise Lost ' ? Nothing at all. What do you learn
from a cookery-book? Something you did not know
LECT. XI.] LITERATURE OF POWER. 165
before, on every page. But would you, therefore, i wt
the cookery-book on a higher level than the 'Paradise
Lost ' ? What you owe to Milton is not any knowledge,
of which a million separate items are but a million ad-
vancing steps on the same earthly level. What yon
owe is power ; that is, expansion and exercise to your
own latent capacity of sympathy with the infinite,
where every pulse and each separate influx is a step
upwaids, — a step ascending, as upon Jacob's ladder,
from earth to mysterious altitudes."
I can not develop this idea further so vividly as you
will find it expressed in the essay to which I have
referred. The whole essa}^ by the way, is a superior
specimen of criticism. The point I would observe
more particularly is, that, in the judgment of European
critics, the English literature as a whole is superior to
any other modern embodiment of thought as a litera-
ture of power. It is a plastic as distinct from a didactic
literature. The most intelligent German scholars con-
cede this respecting English poetry as compared with
that of their own language. German critics write
commentaries on Shakspeare as on one of the prophets.
M. Guizot concedes substantially the same thing to the
English as compared with the French drama.
Our literature is less accumulative than the German,
but more creative. An impulse received from its great
models strikes deeper, and lives longer. The English
mind is constructive, and builds for durability. We
have more numerous poets, historians, orators, whose
productions have become standards and whose influ-
ence is of the creative sort, than are to be found in
either of the rival literatures of the Continent. Ger-
man philosophers and philologists are more numerous
166 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xi.
tlian ours. French scientists are more numerous than
ours. But with these exceptions our authors of the
rank which De Quincey designates by the word "power"
as contrasted with "knowledge," outnumber those of
France and Germany together. On such a subject as
this, few men can claim to be authorities. But the
drift of critical judgment among scholars, if I have
not misread it, is in this direction, giving ascendency
to the English over the Continental literatures in
respect to creative and durable vitality.
Again : the English is pre-eminently a Christian lite-
rature. No other is to so large an extent pervaded with
Christian thought. No other has so little in its stand-
ard works that is adverse to Christianity. No other is
so profoundly rooted in the Christian theory of life.
No other deals so intelligently with Christian ideas of
destiny. No other is so reverent towards the Christian
Scriptures. No other owes so much of its own vitality
to the literature of the Hebrews.
These features constitute the great distinction of our
literature above those of antiquity. No Pagan embodi-
ment of thought can possibly be a substitute for it or an
approximation to it. It stands on an upper level, above
Greek and Roman culture, in the very fact that it is
built on Christianity. It therefore embodies a large
experience, which the ancient classic languages had not
even words to express, if the ancient people had had
the ideas. Coleridge, for example, declares that " sub-
limity " in the true conception of it is not extant in
any production of the Greek literature. He contends
that it is a modern idea which was Hebrew in its origin.
Yet the English literature is full of it. Moreover, the
sterility of the classic Greek language in words expres-
LECT. XI.] LITERATURE OF FREEDOM. 167
sive of Christian thought is seen in the very (,xistence
of the New Testament. But our English tongue is
built upon Christian thought.
The English is also a Protestant literature, — Protes-
tant as distinct from a Romish, and equally distinct
from an infidel bias. In this it stands above both its
rivals on the Continent. Dr. Newman of Oxford says,
speaking of the conversion of England to Rome, " The
literature of England is against us. It is Protestant in
warp and woof. We never can unmake it." This fea-
ture of it gives to it a splendid opening into the world's
future, if there is any truth in our faith that the world
is to be converted to some simple, spiritual, apostolic
type of Christianity.
Furthermore : the English is the literature of consti-
tutional freedom. It is not a literature of anarchy, noi
of despotism, as so large a fragment of the Continental
literatures is, but is an expression of constitutional lib-
erty. I emphasize, it is an expression of that liberty.
It is not a silent nor an expurgated volume in respect
to the ideas of freedom which are upheaving the
nations. The body of it has never sprung by stealth
from a muzzled press. It has not been obliged to
ask leave to be, from the police. Next to the Bible,
no other single fortress of liberty in the world is so
impregnable as the walls and buttresses of English
libraries.
Those libraries are full of outbursts of the love of
liberty in poetic forms which stir the passions of na-
tions. The common people sing them in their homes ;
mothers over cradles ; and plowmen among the hills.
Our libraries are full of calm and scholarly defenses of
freedom in the forms of constitutional argument which
168 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xi.
create great statesmen for the leadership of nations.
They are full of the statute laws of England, which
are liberty embodied in good government. They are
full of histories of liberty in the great battles and revo-
lutions of England, — a record which a nation never
retreats from or dishonors till it falls off from the
platform of great Powers.
Other nations can not know our literature with safety
to despotic ideas. Men have to expurgate it, as slave-
holders did our school-books before the civil war, in
order to make it innocent of hostility to despotism.
The poetry of England must be riddled with expurga-
tions, before it can be safely taught in the schools of a
people who fear the growth of free ideas. The Bible
is but a fragment of that mass of thought which
Romanism would expel from our schools. The sonnets
of Milton and Wordsworth, the speeches of Edmund
Burke, the story of Magna Charta, the biography of
Wilberforce, the battle of Bunker Hill, must all be
expunged or garbled before Romanism is safe in com-
mon schools in which the English literature is taught
or sung. No poetic fiction is it, but the most prosaic
of sober facts in political economy, which Wordsworth
uttered : —
" We must be free or die, who speak the tongue
That Shakspeare spake."
This affiliation of our literature with constitutional free-
dom is a feature of it which must open avenues for it
into the world's future. Certain great arteries of life
in the great nations run directly into it. The heart of
the nations is beating in sympathy with it to an extent
not true of any other literature dead or living.
LECT. XI.] WELL-BALANCED LITERATURE. 109
Moreover, the English is a well-balanced liteiature.
No important department of it is meager. In some
departments the Continental literatures surpass it in
affluence ; but the critic betrays ignorance of the Eng-
lish mind who pronounces it barren in any of the great
lines of scholarly thought.
The only department of culture in which England is
poor, as compared with the Continental countries, is
that of the fine arts. Canova gave the true explana-
tion of that when he said, " It is all owing to your free
institutions. They drain away genius from the arts to
the bar and the House of Commons. Had England
been Italy, Pitt and Fox would have been your artists."
In no great department of literature is the English
language barren.
Our literature is evenly balanced, also, in the fact of
its aversion to extremes of opinion, and extravagances
of culture. In philosophy, in criticism, in morals, in
poetry, in theology, in politics, the English mind re-
volts from excesses. As a whole, the literature is
healthy. It is full-chested, and walks erect. In the
main, it is a liberal and candid literature. It is free,
also, from innate inclinations to sentimentality or to
mysticism. It is an earnest growth of thought rooted
in good sense. If a literary monomaniac happens to
spring up, and attract attention by unseemly antics, the
reading people of England look on long enough to
laugh, and then go about their business.
Opposites are well balanced in our literature. It
never surges this way and that, as if a whole nation
had run mad for the want of mental ballast. In this
respect it is superior to that of France. No single
man could ever have had such power to lead the Eng-
170 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xi.
lisli people on a tramp of delusion and godlessness as
Voltaire had over the French mind. It was not in the
make of the English mind to be thus inveigled into a
volcanic revolution. Both nations had their revolu-
tions. Both executed their monarchs on the scaffold.
But England did it decently, under the forms and in
the spirit of her ancient laws. She did not sacrifice
all her institutions for the sake of doing it. The
conscience of the nation acted in it a great national
tragedy, with no heart for ribaldry and brutality. It
was done under a regime marked by days of religious
fasting.
Macaulay says that the two most profound revolu-
tions in English history were that which effaced the
distinction between the Norman and the Saxon, and
that which effaced the distinction between master and
slave. Both were brought about by silent and imper-
ceptible changes. Civil war accomplished neither;
moral causes produced both. It is impossible to fix
the time when either ceased to be. Lord Macaulay
says that the institution of villanage has never been
abolished by statute to tliis day. With such history
as this in the process of making, and constantly going
on record in her libraries, and taught in her universities,
and fostered by her pulpits, and acted in her drama, and
sung in the ballads of her people, it has never been
possible for England to have a " Reign of Terror."
The literature of this English stock, therefore, excites
trust in its genuineness. It is a grandly equable thing
by which to form a scholar's mind. It cultivates his
powers symmetrically. It exalts intellectual and moral
above material and turbulent causes in his ji.dgment
of events. It creates a predisposition in his tastes
LECT. XI.] MATURE LITERATURE. 171
to a moderation of passionate opinions and to an
appreciation of opposites both in historic and in living
character.
Yet again : the English is the most mature of all
the gi'eat embodiments of the world's thought. It ex-
presses the results of the longest growth of power in
literary forms. It has claims, superior to those of any
other, to be regarded as the last and ripest fruitage
of intellectual energy that the world has yet seen.
The proof of this can only be hinted at here.
In the comparison with the ancient literatures, it is
sufficient to say, as we have before observed, that the
English has utilized them all. It is in part built upon
them. It has absorbed whatever is vital in every one
of them. If they were extinguished to-day in their
original forms, every idea they contain which is vital
to mental culture could be reproduced from the Eng-
lish literature alone. Dr. Johnson said, that, in his
(lay, almost the whole bulk of human thought and learn-
ing could be expressed in a vocabulary drawn from the
writings of Bacon, Raleigh, and Shakspeare. It is
more strictly true that not a thought which is of any
value to the present or the future of civilization can be
found, in either of the three great literatures which
represent the ancient development of mind, which is
not extant in English libraries. Consequently no man
can thoroughly master the English literature withoat
receiving unconsciously into his own culture the sub-
stantial literary life of Palestine, Greece, and Rome.
Large account may fairly be made of this fact in the
case which is prominently before us, of a man whose
life is given to an arduous profession, and who, there-
fore, can find little time or mental force for the study
172 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xi.
of the ancient classics. Let him master the classics
of his own vernacular, and he is breathing an atmos-
phere made up, in part, of the best Hebrew and Greek
and Roman models all the while.
In the comparison of the English with the German
and French literatures, it is sufficient, so far as the point
of relative maturity is concerned, to note the fact that
the English is much the oldest of the three, and yet is
growing abreast with its rivals. So far back as when
Chaucer, Spenser, Shakspeare, Milton, Hooker, and
Jeremy Taylor had all appeared, the French literature
was barely beginning. De Quincey says, that, in the
time of Corneille, he was the only French living author
of general credit, and Montaigne the only deceased
author of equal eminence. The English had an im-
mense bulk of literature long before that, which has
lived to our day. As to German literature, at that
time it was almost a cipher. The English literature is
by far the most mature of those of modern growth, in
that it has the longest historical development, and is yet
thriving. It gives no signs of decadent taste.
Still further : the English is the nearest approach the
world has seen to a popular literature. Strictly speak-
ing, there is no popular literature in existence ; but
ours is an approximation to it to an extent which is
not true of an}'" other which has existed since the time
of the old Greek drama. Created as it has been
under the influence of free institutions, it is a nearer
approach to the masses of the people than any other
of modern times. A mind formed under its sway has
less to acqmre from other sources in order to fit it for
leadership of the masses of men than if formed under
any foreign cuHure whatever.
LECT. XI.] GERMAN LITERATURE. 173
The spirit of the French literature, in this respect,
was expressed in the sentiment of Voltaire, that the
people should be amused, and have bread, but should
never be tempted to reason ; for, " if the people became
philosophers, all would go to destruction." The liter-
ary mind of France, till a recent date, has had no faith
in the people. Moreover, so far as French authors do
address themselves to the popular mind, it is chiefly to
the Parisian mind; and they publish much which is
vicious both in morals and in taste. The chief repre-
sentative of popular literature in France is the French
novel, the most corrupt of all modern fiction. It
seldom deserves a place in a popular library.
In Germany we find a similar gulf between the
people and the national literature. I am unable to say
what changes may be taking place there in this respect ;
but, if I am rightly informed, there is scarcely another
body of men living, of equal numbers and intelligence,
comprising so many masters of solid learning, who are
so far removed from the masses of the people as the
scholarly men of Germany. German taste in literature
seeks the clouds. My attention has been called to the
fact, that, so far as German books are addressed to the
popular mind, they are aimed at a lower grade of intel-
lect than the same class of books in this country.
They assume that the people are nearer childhood in
their tastes. The paternal idea which pervades so
largely the German theory of government is prominent
in German books for the people.
This involves no disparagement of the German litera-
ture in other relations. Palliations of the existing
state of things are found in the political distractions of
Germany for the last half-century. German govern-
174 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xi.
meDts have virtually said to German scholars, " Think
and print for yourselves and among yourselves. Do not
set the people to thinking." Consequently, as related
to the English, the German literature is inferior in those
elements which go to make a thinking commonalty.
The English has more of the popular mind and heart
expressed in it, and in forms which can reach and
inspire the popular mind and heart. It assumes the
existence among the people of a more manly mind and
a broader range of thinking. It has more of those
universal ideas which appeal to human nature as such
and in its maturity of development, and which are
seconded by the large common sense of mankind.
Consequently, a mind in whose culture English
thought and taste predominate will, other things being
equal, have a larger capacity of influence over the
popular mind than one in whose growth the German
literature is ascendant. It will have less of the con-
traction of an exclusively scholastic discipline.
Finally, the English literature contains a rich depart-
ment devoted to the several forms of persuasive speech.
Eloquence proper is more largel}^ represented in the
English language than in any other in all history. Tlie
forensic and deliberative eloquence of England has con-
tributed standards to libraries which have almost no
counterpart, and can have none, in any other living
language. The senate and the bar on the continent
of Europe have till recently been almost nonentities for
any purpose of oratorical culture. The restriction of
free speech there has doomed the Continental libraries
to sterility in both these departments which are so
essential to the culture of a public man in America.
The strictly professional literature of the pulpit also is
LECT. XI.] EUROPEAN PULPIT. 175
largely represented in our native tongue. I)e Quincey,
by a refreshing departure from his usual contempt for
the clergy, admits that the living pulpit of England is
uttering a vast amount of unpublished literature every
Sunday. The English language has a large contribu-
tion from the pulpit of the past also already among its
published standards. In the richness of this depart-
ment it stands unrivaled. The ancient classics contain
no word for such a thing as a pulpit. Preaching was
an undiscovered art when Plato taught and when
Homer sung. Aristotle's rhetoric would be proof, if
there were no other, that he never heard a sermon.
The vocabulary of Plato and Homer can not express
all the ideas which are predominant in Christian
preaching.
The French and the German pulpits bear no com-
parison with the English. They contain no single
models which equal Barrow and South and Taylor and
Robert Hall. Still less do they contain any such
variety as is found in the history of English preaching.
The French ideal of the pulpit is too theatrical for
profound and long-lived influence. The Germans can
hardly be said to have an ideal of it which reaches up
to the German ideal of learning. In the German view
the pulpit is beneath scholarly criticism. Tholuck,
Krummacher, Nitzsch, Schleiermacher, and Stein meyer
are fair representatives of the first rank of German
preachers in the last half-century. Not one of them
would be placed by an intelligent critic by the side of
American preachers of the corresponding rank.
The English language, on the contrary, overflows with
the literature of the pulpit. It abounds in material
which secular critics admit to he literature. This is a
176 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xi.
concession which secular criticism makes with difficulty.
But the fact compels it. We have standards which
were created by the pulpit, to which scholars in all
departments of thought turn, as among the choicest
productions of the English mind. The bearing of this
opulence of our literature in the forms of persuasive
speech upon the claims of it on the study of a preacher
is obvious.
It is not that the ancient or the foreign literatures
should be ignored, or estimated lightly, but that they
should be subordinated. We should go to them from
an English culture, and come back from them to an
English culture. Enlarge that culture, expand it,
deepen it, elevate it, but let it in the end be English,
pervaded by English tastes, controlled by English good
sense, and supported by sympathy with English models.
LECTURE XII.
THE PLACE OF AMERICAN LITERATURE IN THE
STUDIES OF A PASTOR.
(5) The views thus far advanced suggest a prin-
ciple in the selection of authors, by which the princi-
ples already named should be modified. It is, that,
in our estimate of authors, the just claims of Ameri-
can literature should be recognized. The chief value
of this suggestion is felt not so much in the practical
selection of books as in the spirit in which a pas-
tor's studies are conducted. Respect for the national
mind of one's own country and for contemporaneous
authorship is a prime factor in the preparation of a
man to minister to his own countrymen. The same
law by which a preacher's culture is impaired for pro-
fessional service by an excessive fondness for the
ancient rather than the modern, or the distant above
the near, in literary development, holds good respecting
a similar preference of the foreign to the national
literature.
It must be conceded that one of the dangers to the
reading of an American pastor is that he will read
disproportionately American books. Our proximity to
them, the ease with which they can be obtained, and
the fulsome style of criticism in which American peri-
odicals indulge, expose us to the peril of wasting our
177
178 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xn.
mental force on works of ephemeral authority. An
American library needs frequent weeding to rid it of
books which do not wear well in the judgment of
mature scholarship. One of the most eminent of our
American scholars, at the time of his decease, had hun-
dreds of such discarded volumes in his attic-chambers,
where he had hidden them for years, that his eye might
not be wearied by the sight of them, and, perhaps,
that his vanit}^ might not be wounded by the remem-
brance of his folly in purchasing them. During the
civil war, when manufacturers gave large prices for
waste paper, many libraries were reduced in bulk, but
improved in quality, by the sale of American books to
peddlers.
Still, in this as in more important things, it is a pro-
tection against the extreme to see and to trust the mean.
The principle is a sound one, that an American scholar
should recognize the growth of American mind. In
books, as in affairs, that growth demands a scholarly
respect. The literature of one's country does not
deserve the pre-eminence which belongs to that of one's
vernacular. The growth of a language is a more
profound development of mind than the peopling of
a continent, or the organization of a republic. But
there is a literary justice which a preacher should not
withhold from the literature of his country in his ad-
justment of proportions in his own reading. He can
not do it without peril to the adaptations of his own
culture to professional service.
Our American literature, be it observed, then, claims
our recognition on three grounds. One is that of its
intrinsic merits in some departments. In poetry it
must in candor be admitted that we ha\ e nothing yet
LECT. XII.] POEMS IN ACTION. 179
to show which criticism places by the side of the great
poets of England. The American is not yet a poetio
temperament. Our civilization has not yet reached the
poetic stage of its development. Our national history
is not old enough to create for itself the poetic enthu-
siasm. We have, also, in the past of the English mind,
so radiant a constellation of poets, that the taste of our
own scholars delights in them without attempting to
emulate their luster. "Like thee I will not build;
better I can not," said Michael Angelo of the dome of
Santa Maria in Florence. Such may be the instinct
of the American imagination in visiting the " Poets'
Corner" of Westminster Abbey.
Whatever be the cause of the phenomenon, we owe
it to the integrity of our critical judgment to acknowl-
edge the fact that our literature is not eminent in this
department of production. We are a young nation.
We have been living poems. Many events in our his-
tory are grand themes for poetic story. Says a writer
in "The Edinburgh Review," "There is a poetry of
the past, of the mountains, the seas, the stars ; but a
great city seen aright is tenfold more poetical than
them all." A Pacific railroad is a poem in act. The
State of Massachusetts is a poem. Old Governor Win-
throp is a hero beyond Greek or Roman fame. The
colonization of Kansas is splendid material for a great
epic : so is the war of the rebellion. Magnificent mate-
rials have we in our history for poetry which shall by
and by rival Wordsworth's sonnets, and Shakspeare's
historical dramas. They will give birth to great poems
when age has gathered around them the imaginative
reverence of scholars. As Carlyle says of " The May-
flower," " Were we of open sense, as the Greeks were,
180 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xii.
we had found a poem here, one of Nature's own, such
as she writes in broad facts over great continents."
In several other departments, however, we have a
literature already of which we need not be ashamed.
In the department of history America is represented
by authors whom European criticism does not hesitate
to rank by the side of the great historians of England.
Baron Alexander Humboldt thought that there was not
in existence a finer specimen of historic writing than
Prescott's '' Ferdinand and Isabella." In the depart-
ment of the essai/ we have writers representing in
monographs nearly all the varieties of English style as
perfectly as writers of the same class in Great Britain.
In prose-fiction Walter Scott and Charles Dickens
are the only names which deserve to precede that of
Cooper. Mrs. Stowe must be credited with having
produced a romance which has had a larger circulation,
in more numerous languages, than any other book ever
published, except the Bible. In forensic and parliamen-
tary/ eloquence the names of Webster, Clay, Calhoun,
Sumner, do not suffer by the side of Burke, Pitt,
Fox, Brougham. In the department of demonstrative
eloquence I do not know the name in the annals of
any living nation which should stand before that of
Edward Everett. For that style of eloquence, Everett's
orations are well-nigh perfect.
In the literature of the pulpit there certainly are
names, of the living and the dead, which must be
ranked as equals, at least, of the most powerful preach-
ers of England. In no country in the world has the
pulpit proved its power by its effects more conspicu-
ously than in ours. The fear sometimes expressed of
the decline of the American pulpit is not entirely un-
LECT. xn.] OUR LITER ATUx^E ENGLISH. 181
warranted ; yet, all things considered, the evidences of
decline are offset by evidences of improvement. Our
pulpit has a fluctuating history ; but on the whole it
has never had a more docile, and at the same time
intelligent, hearing than it has to-day. The decline of
the pulpit in the sense so much boasted of by skeptical
critics is disproved by the very impunity with which
those critics proclaim their sentiments. They would
be at the whipping-post, and their books burnt by the
hangman, if the American pulpit had not assisted by
its reasoning habits to enlighten and liberalize the
popular faith. On the ground, therefore, of its intrinsic
merits, American literature deserves to be recognized
in our estimate of the resources of our professional
discipline.
It deserves recognition, also, as an offshoot of the
literature of England. This is at present its relative
position. As we have no American language, neither
have we an American literature, which is not a graft
upon the English stock. Their literature is ours, and
ours is theirs. In this respect our literature partakes
of the same character with that of nearly all the insti-
tutions which lie deepest in our civilization. Those
institutions are essentially English. Our religion, our
jurisprudence, our educational policy, our periodical
press, our tendencies in pliilosophy, in a word the make
of American mind in all its great expressions of itself,
are English at bottom. They are not German; they
are not French ; they are not derivatives from the
ancient republics: they are English. No man under-
stands the American mind who fails to appreciate this,
or who does not act upon it in his public life.
Public speakers among us fail to reach the popular
182 MEN AND BOOKS. [le^ t. xii.
heart, if their owii culture is tinged with foreign and
ancient literatures to such extent as to make those
obvious in public sj)eech. The chief defect in senator
Sumner's speeches was the excessive freedom with
which he indulged in quotations from the ancient
classics, and allusion to the ancient mythology. He
was at home in English literature and history. He was
master of a solid English style. For durability and
richness of material, no other speeches in the Senate,
since Mr. Webster's day, were equal to his. Yet he did
not seize and hold the popular mind. Even the United-
States Senate sometimes wearied of him. This was in
part because of the artificialness created by his freedom
in the use of the learning he had derived from the
dead languages. In the real affairs of life, and specially
in the government of great nations, men demand an
intensity, and a homeliness of aim at present realities,
which forbid a very free and very obvious use of
foreign and ancient lore. It chills their sympathies
to quote from an author who has been two thousand
years in his grave. Therefore it weakens a speaker's
grasp of the popular mind.
It is a mystery to many that the English Parliament
should tolerate so much as they do of that which
seems like pedantic use of the Latin, and, to some ex-
tent, of the Greek languages in parliamentary debates.
The English House of Commons is said to be the most
prosaic body of men living. Any thing like " fine writ-
ing " they put down with their inimitable " Hear,
hear ! " in a tone of derision which a young speaker
never ventures to encounter but once. The style of
their debates is almost wholly conversational. The
prime qualities which command their hearing, if not
TECT. XII.] CLASSIC QUOTATIONS. 183
their votes, are good sense in talking to the point, and
stopping at the end. Yet some of their most eminent
debaters interlard their speeches with classic quotations
to an extent which seems inconsistent with the parlia-
mentary taste as evinced in other things.
I have never till recently met with a satisfactory-
explanation of the apparent anomaly. But probably
the truth is this, that the great majority of those quo-
tations are relics of the school-days of the members of
Parliament. They are almost all of them graduates
of the two universities. In the universities, classical
study is the central discipline. It overshadows every-
thing else. It takes largely the form of committing
to memory favorite passages from Greek and Latin
authors, and imitating their versification. A certain
routine of such passages becomes as familiar as the
English alphabet to the graduates of Oxford and Cam-
bridge. To a great extent, they all know by heart
the same extracts, and know the English of them.
When, therefore, twenty years after graduation, they
meet in Parliament, and harangue each other, an apt
recitation from one of the old text-books of the uni-
versity, given with the proper intonation and prosody,
is instantly recognized and understood by four-fifths of
the audience. It comes to them also with the golden
associations of their youth. Hence the applause with
which such a quotation, if apt, is often received. More
than once a ministry has been unseated by the irre-
sistible power of a piece of sarcasm clothed in the
words of Juvenal or Cicero.
This explanation, which I have from a trustworthy
source, is plausible, to say the least. But it is obvious
that an American senator who should imitate in that
184 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xii.
respect an Imglish leader in the House of Commons
would have no such prepossessions in his audience to
protect liim from the charge of pedantry. In this
country, audiences scarcely tolerate a Gieek or Roman
tinge in the style of public speech. But they bear
any thing belonging to our vernacular. With all our
hereditary antipathy to English aristocracy, and our
rivalship with English prestige, we are still English at
heart. We feel in every throb our English origin.
We confess our kinship to English modes of thought.
We love the old mother-country. We can not help
this till we cease to think in the mother-tongue.
American literature has furthermore a special claim
upon the clergy, in the fact that the theological think-
ing of this country has been to a certain extent original.
In no part of the world in modern times has theological
discussion been more vigorous, or more unique in its
character. Some of the ablest minds of the last centu-
ry spent their lives in it. It has also commanded a
respect among the laity which it has not received in
England or in Continental Europe. Men who in Europe
would have been foremost as philosophers and states-
men have here been found among our theologians.
The ablest contributions of this country to mental
philosophy have been made at the instance of theology,
and chiefly in direct connection with theology.
The Puritan type of theological thinking in this
country, even as compared with the corresponding type
in England and in Holland, was largely original. The
inquiry is often made, by those who are not familiar
with the theological history of New England, whethei
or not it has developed any thing new in theological
science, ""^he controversy between the " Old School '*
LECT. Ki .] NEW-ENGLAND riiCOLOGY. 185
and the " New School " in the religious thought of this
country has retired into the shade in consequence of
the re-union of the Presbyterian Church. It has given
place to a totally different class of discussions. It is
worthy of consideration, therefore, in a brief excm^sus
from the main theme before us.
Is the orthodox theology of New England an ad-
vance upon that of the older confessions? A glance
at the character of the early clergy of New England
will go far to answer this inquiry. They were remarka-
bly self-reliant men, made such by the force of their
origin and condition. They wore no man's livery.
They were not predisposed to recognize uninspired
authorities in matters of religious faith. It is im-
possible to read the history of the four New-England
Colonies, before their separation from Great Britain,
without observing, that, from the very landing at
Plymouth, the idea of independence had possession
of the colonial mind. In government, in religion, in
social civilization, our fathers scented subjection to
human authority a great way off. Probably the world
has never seen a more intense development of indi-
vidualism.
In religion, especially, the New-England mind was a
law to itself. In religious affairs they saw the extreme
of peril to all men's liberties, and their vigilance against
authority was sleepless accordingly. It was with dif-
ficulty that they recognized the necessity even of the
fellowship of churches. A scheme for a " consocia-
tion " of churches, which was laid before the Massachu-
setts Legislature in 1662, never got further than the
order that it be printed " for the consideration of the
people." The people have had it in safe "considera-
186 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect xii.
tion" ever sin3e. Independence was in the air It
pervaded every important subject of colonial interest.
It was the last thought of a true Pilgrim when he
retired to rest at night, and the first that sprang to the
birth in his mind in the morning. No body of men
were ever more faithful illustrations of that "eternal
vigilance " which is " the price of liberty " than the
people of these Colonies.
This feature in the make of the New-England Puri-
tans has given character, down to this day, to the whole
drift of New-England theology. They knew no right
more sacred, and no duty more imperative, than that
of private judgment. At the same time they did not
have the means of forming their theology as a deriva-
tive from other standards than the Bible. They had
not access to large libraries. They were isolated from
frequent correspondence with the old countries. There
was no such intimacy of correspondence between the
American clergy and their Scotch and English brethren
as that which fed the English Reformation from the
fountains of the Dutch and Genevan schools. No such
volume, for instance, as the " Zurich Letters," grew out
of the relations of the colonial ministry of this country,
or their immediate successors, to their brethren in Great
Britain. They had no ecclesiastical ties binding them
as a body to authorities and standards on the other side
of the Atlantic. If they acknowledged the standards
of the European churches, they did so feeling at entire
liberty to modify them, or to attach to their formulae
an interpretation of their own.
In New England, as matter of fact, the right and
the duty of private judgment were a right and a duty
exercised. Separate creeds for separate chr rches were
LECT. xn.] OUR THEOLOGY ORIGINAL. 187
the rule. Each church changed established formulae
at its own pleasure. Even individuals, by the ancient
usage of New England, were at liberty to frame their
own creeds in their own language ; and their fitness
to be admitted to the communion of the church was
judged of, so far as doctrinal tests were concerned, by
the soundness or the unsoundness of such private
creeds. Originality in theological literature was the
necessary outcome from the conditions of colonial life
here from the very first. If this country was to have
any theological thinking at all, it was a foregone con-
clusion that it must be original. It was predestined
to be home-made, like the rye bread upon their tables
and the homespun cloth in their looms.
Moreover, the early theologians of America were
preachers. Many of them were eminent preachers.
Their theology has come down to us largely in the
form of sermons. They constructed their theology for
the pulpit. It was suggested to them by the demands
of the pulpit rather than by the demands of the school
as represented in any current system of philosophy.
No other type of theology since apostolic days has been
so purely the product of the pulpit, aimed at the objects
of the pulpit, breathing the spirit of the pulpit, and
actually preached in the pulpit, as the theology of New
England.
In this respect of its homiletic origin, the New-Eng-
land theology was widely diverse from the patristic
and mediaeval confessions. Those were largely the
product of the schools. They grew out of the abstract
relatioQs of philosophy to a revealed faith. They
were in some degree subservient to the philosophies of
the respective ages in which they crystallized into
188 MEN AND BOOKS. [i 5CT. xn.
creeds. The Puritan theology, on the contrary, and
specially that type of it which grew up in New Eng-
land, was the theology of the pulpit. The men who
framed it were preachers, and, either consciously or
unconsciously, they aimed to produce a theology which
should preach well. The pulpit was their throne, not
the school, not the chair of philosophy, not that of
ecclesiastical dominion.
Theirs was a theology, also, which was molded by
powerful religious awakenings. These, in the peculiar-
ities of their development, were intensely American.
As time passed away, they became almost an idiosyn-
crasy of American religious life. Not in their ultimate
spirit, but in many of their external phenomena, they
were American. So peculiar were they in some
respects to this country, that for a long time they have
been regarded in Great Britain and in Germany as
the result of some peculiar diathesis of American tem-
perament. Under the dominant influence of religious
awakenings, the theology of New England has grown
up to its maturity.
All these facts in the history of our theological litera-
ture tended to give it originality. It is the work of
men who were, by the force of circumstances without
and of tendencies within, thrown back upon their own
resources. They recommenced theological inquiry de
novo. They laid new foundations, and erected new
structures. For good or for evil, such was the fact.
"We have no occasion to blink it, and no right to deny
it. We unconsciously falsify history, if we try to se-
cure foi the New-England theology the prestige of un-
swerving conformity to the more ancient standards by
conceiving of it as a mere reproduction of them. It
LECT. XII.] CALVINISM IMPROVED. 189
claimed to be, and it was, an advance upon them. In
the direction of truth or of error, according to the
prepossessions of the looker-on, it was a progress. Its
authors claimed for it the title of an improvement in
theology as a human science. They called it Calvinism,
but Calvinism improved. In my judgment, they com-
mitted a mistake in theologic policy in clinging so
pertinaciously to the name of Calvin. The system
they framed was not Calvinism, as Calvin taught and
preached. They started with the assumption that the-
ology is an improvable science, and they ended with
the claim that they had improved it. They claimed
thus to have evolved, more completely and symmetri-
cally than Calvin had done, the spirit of the Scriptures,
and to have made the scriptural faith appear more
reasonable, and more accordant with the necessary
beliefs of the human mind.
Yet this fact has been almost wholly ignored by the
opponents of the popular theology. Scarcely a trace
of its recognition can be found in the writings of Dr.
Channing. He almost invariably aimed the shafts of
his argument and invective at the theology of Calvin,
not at that of his own contemporaries. The same is
true of the whole history of that side of the debate
which he represented down to our day.
Specially is the originality of New-England theology
true of it, as represented in a succession of theologians
extending over nearly a century and a half backward
from our own times. The leading theologians of New
England during this period — beginning with the elder
Edwards, and ending with one still living — have done
more, in the way of original thinking, for the advance
of strictly theological science, than any other equal
190 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xii.
number of men, within an equal space of time, since
Augustine's day.
The theological work of the reformers, ai I under-
stand it, was mainly the recovery of a lost theology :
that of this catena of American theologians has been
the establishment of an advanced theology. They
have been originators in a sense which can not properly
be affirmed of the great bulk of their contemporaries in
this country or in Europe. We do an injustice which
Iiistory will eventually undo, if we try to throw a sus-
pension-bridge over their heads, and to attach our own
work to that of the theologians who preceded them, as
if nothing new in theological thinking had been done
in the interval. They certainly were originators, if
any man ever was. As such they will stand in the
final version of theological history. If opprobrium is
attached to the fact. New England must bear that;
if dignity, she is entitled to this.
The German theologians recognize the same thing
whenever they inform themselves of the history of
American theological thought. As a rule, I am told,
they know very little of it. A solid and useful work
remains yet to be done by some American student in
Germany, to publish in the German language a history
of the American development of theological opinion.
But, so far as our most eminent theologians of the last
centiuy and a half are known at all in Germany, Ger-
man scholars detect in them an original vein of thought.
The same is true of English scholars. When such a
man as Frederick Robertson reads President Edwards,
he finds in him the germs, as he says, of an original
style of thinking. It strikes him not as a reproduc-
tion, but as a discovery.
LECT. xn.] AN ADVANCED THEOLOGY. 191
Resuming the line of suggestion from which we have
deviated, let the fact be noted, that this originality of
our theology furnishes a peculiar ground of claim for
American literature upon the studies of a preacher.
You do not know the full development of theological
science, if you study it only in the older European
standards. The American development, and specially
that of New England, as being the earliest and the
most adventurous and the most unique, is needed to
fill out the programme of the course which theology
has actually taken in the history of opinion.
LECTURE XIII.
HEARING OF PROFESSIONAL PURSUITS ON A PASTOR'S
STUDIES. — BREADTH OF RANGE IN SELECTION OF
BOOKS.
(6) Some of the remarks already made suggest an-
other principle of selection in pastoral studies. It is
that the true ideal of a pastor's reading must be regu-
lated in part by his professional duties ; in how great
part, the good sense of each must decide. The prin-
ciple is vital, that reading for the direct purpose of
homiletic use is a necessity, and as such should be
respected. It not only is not unscholarly, but a pas-
tor's scholarship is radically defective, without it, and
this for two reasons.
One is the necessity of such study to the dignity of
other literary pursuits. That is a degrading definition
of literature which excludes from it professional studies.
We create effeminate conceptions of it when we isolate
it from the tug of real life. It becomes the accom-
plishment of an idle character, if you limit it to the
amusement of idle hours.
Professor Henry Reed notices the popular use of the
phrase belles-lettres as indicating the tendency of a
certain class of minds to this degrading notion. That
phrase was the invention of an effeminate taste, which
sought to hide its own feebleness under the guise of a
102
LECT. XIII.] PROFESSIONAL ENTHUSIASM. 193
foreign tongue. Coleridge remarks it as one of the
disastrous revolutions of England, that "literature fell
away from the professions." For the earnestness, and
therefore for the dignity, of our literary pursuits, we
need to associate them with some regular and necessary
avocation in life. The necessity of labor for a living
is not a hinderance, but a help, to the depth of our
scholarly life. Every important vocation in life has
some literature of its own : at least, it has a history
which a man is the wiser for knowing. The clerical
profession has a literature which no clergyman can
afford not to know.
A second reason for this principle of selection is its
obvious necessity to professional success. There are
two kinds of interest in the clerical office. One is the
direct interest in its objects ; the other, interest iu it
as a profession. Providence has benevolently arranged,
for our assistance in life's labors, that we are so made
as to enjoy, not only the results, but the process to
results. Pleasure is imparted, not only at the end, but
on the way to the end. This professional joy is as
legitimate to a clergyman as to a lawyer.
Not that it is the highest motive to clerical fidelity
but it is an innocent and a stimulating motive. The
highest success is never gained without it. The pos-
session of it, however, leads necessarily to study of
professional literature. This is as it should be. Our
tastes in reading ought to be tinged with the pecu-
liarities of our profession to a sufficient extent to make
them tributary to it. The two may blend, so that the
one shall never be a drudgery, and the other never
effeminate.
(1) Our choice of authors should cover as large a
194 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xm.
range of literature as can be read in a scholarly way.
This as a theory seems self-evident ; yet in practice it
is at this point that the hopelessness of the scholarly
life to a pastor appears most invincible. Yet, be it
ever so limited in its practical application, the recog-
nition of the principle is invaluable to a pastor's schol-
arly spirit.
Observe, in confirmation of this, the uselessness of
variety, if gained at the expense of scholarship, in
reading. Adults in years are often juvenile in culture.
This juvenile period is characterized by three things, —
reading is amusement, the choice of authors is for-
tuitous, and opinions about authors are either an echo
of their reputation, or a wilful contradiction of it. No
profound personal sympathy with authors is yet created,
and no antipathies for which scholarly reasons can be
given. Our collegiate curriculum does not commonly
advance a student much beyond this juvenile period
of culture, unless he is above the average age of colle-
gians, and has read more than they commonly read.
In this juvenile period the first peril encountered is
that of reading too much and too variously. We are
in danger of skimming the surface of every thing that
falls in our way, without penetrating any thing. One
very soon wearies of such reading, if it is directed to
any thing which deserves to be called earnest literature.
To read such literature with any pleasure we must be
ourselves in earnest; and to be in earnest in it we
must penetrate it in spots. The mind, otherwise, is
like a bird always on the wing. This is not scholarly
reading. No man will pursue it long m the use of
serious literature, unless he falls into an affectation
of scholarly tastes.
LECT. xm.] LITERARY AFFECTATION. IQ/i
A second peril to which the juvenile period of cul-
ture is exposed is that of literary affectation. Did
you never see a freshman in college, in a fit of literary
eagerness, carrying to his room a huge folio in Latin,
or a set of the Greek classics, under the hallucination
that scholarly culture must have some such unknown
and unknowable beginning in order to he scholarly?
Profuse and promiscuous reading often results from
such affectation of literary aims.
One of the humiliating confessions which we have
to make for educated men is, that there is not a little
of affected taste among them. This is of so great im-
portance to a youthful scholar, that it demands notice
by an excursus from the line of the present discussion.
You will discover, as you extend the range of your
reading, that there is a class of authors who at first
awe you by their prodigious learning, by their glib use
of the technical dialect of scholarship, and by their
oracular opinions. But they are among the authors
whom you most quickly outgrow. The conviction
soon forces itself upon you that they are pretentious.
Their dialect is not necessitated by their thinking:
their reading has been discursive, not penetrative, and
their productions are too heavily indebted to their com-
/non-place books. You find that other authors, less
t^cluminous, with a less gaudy parade of the tackling
of science, and with a more simple style, move you
more profoundly, and their influence lives longer in
your mental growth.
Religion and religious men suffer often, at the hands
of the men of books, from the charge of cant. The
charge is too often true. But it is my firm belief, that
among any number of plain Christian men and women
196 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xiii.
clios^n at random, there will be f'yiind less of that mor-
bid affection than can be found F.mong an equal number
of literary and scientific authois and literary amateurs
chosen at random. What is cant in religion? It is
nothing but affectation of unreal virtue ; not conscious
hypocrisy, but unconscious self-deceit. As a mental
phenomenon it is not confined to religion. The same
thing essentially vitiates manners in society. It is
witnessed in the enthusiasm of travelers, in the raptures
of connoisseurs of art, in the patriotism of politicians,
and in the conscientiousness of obstinate minorities.
It infects as well the aspirations of authorship and
the early enthusiasm of readers. It is a ubiquitous
infirmity of human nature. Indeed, do we not distrust
ourselves more in this respect, the more we know of
ourselves ? But a fragment of our experience, proba-
bly, is absolutely free from affected virtue. That
fragment is commonly purified of this taint by the
discipline of emergencies. Yet even death does not
press it out of some natures. They die as they have
lived, deceivers and deceived, or, to speak more exactly,
deceived, and therefore deceivers. Authors who make
the most showy parade of mental integrity are often
guilty of some glaring sign of its opposite. Carlyle
has been the severest censor of the English public
for its insincerity in every thing; yet Carlyle's style
in the very utterance of his invectives is one of the
most disingenuous specimens of quackery in modern
authorship.
It is no marvelous thing, then, if we find cant in
boo^4s in which we least expect it. Critics who have
an honest culture complain of it in all the great litera-
tures of our day. Addison complained of it in his
LECT. xiri.] LITERARY JUGGLERS. 197
contemporaries. It was the butt of Dr. Johnson's
sarcasm ; yet the old elephant was not free from it
himself when he tried to dance. Menzel and Niebuhr
stigmatize it in the German literature. Guizot has
scorned it in one department of the French literature.
Niebuhr flatly charges it upon some of his literary con-
temporaries, that whole pages of references to authori-
ties were copied from others, a few here and a few
there, with no attempt at verification, but purely to
impose on the reader by a parade of extensive reading.
Such is the jugglery of scholarship.
I could name two celebrated writers of this country
who belong to the class of literary jugglers. In one
case, if he ever read his footnotes in their original
connections, he would have found some of them to be
hostile, and some of them irrelevant, to his own posi-
tions. As I do not suppose him to have been con-
sciously a knave, the most charitable construction of
his error is that he borrowed them, and imposed them
on his readers, trusting to their ignorance as he had
to his own. In the other case, a theological controver-
sialist was hard pressed by an opponent more learned
than himself. He " read up," as we call it, for the exi-
gency, and gave to the public a rejoinder in which Avere
heaped together mediaeval names which his readers had
never heard of, and he probably had not heard of till
then. As authorities, some of them were worth little
more than the London "Punch." His opponent saw
through the trick at a glance, and never answered what
he doubtless deemed an affectation which was beneath
him. That is a ruse which is never perpetrated with-
out being discovered by somebody.
Keturning, now, from the excursion we have taken
198 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xiii.
from the point in hand, let us observe, that, if grave and
mature authorship is capable of such affectations, the
taste of youthful readers, till it is chastened by breadth
of culture, may be at least in equal peril. We need,
therefore, to guard ourselves against extent of reading
which would be gained at the expense of scholarly
reading. Variety is not scholarly, if it is not so thor-
ough as to result in symmetrical culture, so far as it
goes. It is unscholarly, for instance, ever to read a
book for the sake of talking of it, or to be able to
say that one has read it, or to be able to quote from it
in one's own production.
The real culture of a man shows itself in his original
thinking, not in that which he prates about, and puts
on parade. Give us your thought, man, your thought !
That is the proof to us of what you have lived in your
own mental being. That tells us what you are. Who
cares for any thing else you have to give ? Sly hints
of prodigality in the use of books go for nothing. Do
not be awed by them when you encounter them in the
authors you read. You can provide all such pabulum
for yourself, and then you will know what it is worth.
Do not allow an author to impose it upon you for any
higher worth than it would have if it came from your
own pen.
A noteworthy fact in this connection is, that one's
reading, and one's use of reading in one's own produc-
tions, will act and re-act upon each other. What the
one is, the other is apt to be. Therefore, freedom from
affectation in your use of books in sermons will tend
to secure the same freedom in the reading of books.
Make no display of learning or of varied culture. The
loopholes tlirough which a hearer can look into your
LECT. xrii.] MENTAL INTEGRITY. 199
library should be made as few as possible in your
preaching. A thorough-bred traveler does not boast
of his ti ivels. He is mindful of Lord Chesterfield s
advice to his son, not to begin every fragment of his
conversation with, "When I was in Japan." So a
genuine scholar does not pry open the crevices through
which the extent of his reading can be seen.
A young man has gained one of the prime elements
of scholarship, when he has learned the worth of art-
lessness in his literary dealings with himself. Play no
tricks upon yourself Do not be hoodwinked into an
imitation of the tricks of authors. Be honest in your
secret literary habits. Keep yourself always on the safe
side of plagiarism in your sermons. Be assured that
you ivill plagiarize unconsciously quite as much as is
consistent with the rights of authorship. As a specimen
of the care which should be practiced in this respect,
if you quote in your sermon, see to it that you put the
signs of quotation into your delivery as well as into your
manuscript. In a word, be yourself in literature as in
religion. Let your reading be, and appear to be, in
your use of it, the symbol of a real life. There is such
a thing as intellectual integrity. The price of it is
above rubies. If you will plan your reading, and use it
with this kind of truthfulness to yourself, the range of
your reading and the symmetry of your culture will be
exponents of each other. The variety of your reading
will grow to meet the wants of your culture. Beyond
that, it is of no imaginable use to you or to others.
But, while protection against affectation of literary
culture is the first need of a youthful writer, there is,
on the other hand, an obvious value in that variety of
study which is a genuine index of symmetry. Let the
200 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect, xiii,
fact be ol' served, therefore, that all the excellences of
literature are not to be found in any narrow group of
writers. Every great mind is great by virtue of some
sort of individuality. That individuality represents a
power. But no mind represents all such individuali-
ties. The universal genius is a fiction : it can be real-
ized only in a mind of infinite capacities. We speak
of Shakspeare as if he were such a genius ; but it is
hyperbole. If he is the first of poets for his excellences,
he is the first, also, for his faults. Intensity in author-
ship generally exhibits itself, in part, by violations of
taste.
Only by varied reading, therefore, can we combine
in our own tastes any very wide range of excellences.
We must achieve our object as a bee gathers honey.
Apiarists tell us that no two honeycombs have pre-
cisely the same flavor. A bee can not concoct the most
delicate honey from any one species of flora. Diver-
sities of the saccharine element must be distilled from
species which are opposites, some of which are even
antidotes to each other. So the finest culture is the
transfusion of the greatest breadth of literature. Oppo-
sites and antidotes in thought may blend in mental
character, and produce a flavor which no other com-
pounds can imitate.
The principle involved here is not impaired in value
by any degree of richness which one may find in a few
favorite authors. There is a virtue in variety for the
sake of variety. The illustrious Literary Club, to
which Dr. Johnson belonged, included, besides him,
Sir Joshua Reynolds and Edmund Burke, the latter
the most profound thinker of the age. But Goldsmith
expressed a practical want, even in the society of such
LECT. XIII.] CULTURE SYMPATHETIC. 201
men, when lie advocated the enlargement of the club
by the introduction of new members, "because," he
said, "the origin d members had traveled over each
other's minds so often and so thoroughly." So it is
with our culture from books, even the wisest and most
quickening. We appropriate from them in time all
that our affinities can appropriate. We must have
fresh food to keep the mind new and progressive in its
tastes.
Further : a certain variety of knowledge is necessary
to the perfection of any one species of knowledge.
An old book often receives a new power to enlighten
or to quicken us from our perusal of a new one. Still
more is diversity of mental character necessary to per-
fection in any one quality. Culture is sensitively sym-
pathetic: it is a compound of sympathies. Diseased
culture in one respect generates disease in other re-
spects. Amaurosis in one eye may cause the other eye
to weep itself blind : so a contracted culture is, for that
reason, a shallow one. Of two authors, for instance,
we appreciate one the better for appreciating the other
justly. Of two departments of a library, we penetrate
the one the more profoundly for every glimpse of
insisfht which we obtain into the other. Of two na-
tional literatures, we have a mastery of the one in some
degree proportionate to our conquest of the other. In
all nature every thing helps every other thing. In the
ultimate products of mind there are no rival litera-
tures nor antagonist departments : they are mutual
auxiliaries. The history of human thought is a history
of greit alliances. Breadth of reading, therefore, pro-
motes depth of descent in any one spot.
Again : it is a calamity to a public speaker to subject
202 MEN AND BOOKS. [leci. xiii.
his culture to the exclusive influence of £. .y one author,
or group of authors. Mental servitude often follows
extravagant enthusiasm for one writer, or for the writers
of one school. Individuality of character, then, is sac-
rificed. Not merely is independence of opinion lost:
indeed, that may not be sacrificed perceptibly, and,
because it is not, the student may imagine that his
mental freedom as a whole is unimpaired. Not so : his
culture is literally sub-jected. It lies under the hoof
of a contracted authorship. Such a mind has no catho-
licity of taste. It reveres notliing which does not come
within the vision of the few minds to whom it looks
up as oracles.
Cicero tyrannized thus at one time over a class of
Italian scholars. Erasmus describes, in a dialogue
which he satirically calls " Ciceronianus," a man who
for seven years read no book but Cicero. He had only
Cicero's bust in his library, and sealed his letters with
a seal engraved with Cicero's head. He had composed
" three or four huge volumes, in which he had criticised
every word of Cicero, every variation of every sense
of every word, and every foot or cadence with which
Cicero began or closed a sentence."
Dr. Johnson tyrannized over a class of educated
minds in England. Even so robust a mind as that
of Robert Hall confessed to having worked through a
period of servitude to Johnson in his early discipline.
Coleridge has more recently swayed another class of
readers with an authority which no man should con-
sciously submit to for an hour.
In the pulpit. Dr. Chalmers, for a time, was an autocrat
over a large class of admirers. Few men have appeared
in the modem pulpit whose faults and virtues have
LECT. XIII.] LITERARY SERVILITY. 203
more frequently been copied entire. I do not say
reproduced, but copied ; for the spirit of a great mind
is never reproduced in us till we have either lived
through or overleaped a servile admiration of him, and
become consciously independent. Soon after Chalmers
published his "Astronomical Discourses," a swarm of
little Chalmerians, if I may coin the word, appeared
in the pulpits of Scotland and America. The pulpit of
Scotland has not entirely recovered from that influencb
to this day.
Carlyle has given a similar lurch to a class of minds
in our own literature. Twenty or thirty years ago
American taste, as represented by a considerable group
of writers, reeled under the blow of Carlyle's tyranny,
from which it has never yet fully righted itself.
In this country one man is to-day exercising autocracy
over a class of youthful writers and scholars. Scarcely
a year passes in which I do not find evidences of this
in manuscript sermons. It is difficult to convince a
man by criticism of his subjection to a contemporary
author. I often make such criticism when I know
that it will be rejected now, but that the subject of it
will surely see the truth of it eventually. This is true
of the present sway of the author in question over a
certain class of minds. Few things appear to me so
sure in the future of American literature as that the
educated mind of this country will outgrow its adula-
tion of him and his works. His is a diseased mind,
and the world is sure to find it out. Some of you will
live to witness a change of literary opinion of him not
unlike that which has overtaken the literary fame of
Byron. In both cases you are safe in assuming the
existence o_^ distorts d literary tastes from the distortion
204 MEN AND BOOKS. [lEv^t. xiil
of religious faith. It was not possible for Byron to
be a true literary guide while his rebellion against reli-
gious restraint was what it was. A worse than any
literary bondage inthralled him. So of the author I
have in mind : pure as his private life is, it is impossible
for his intellect to be a great and true literary seer
so long as he hesitates whether or not to apply to the
being of God the personal pronoun.
Sometimes servitude to authors takes the form of
subjection to one school in philosophy. Then a young
scholar trusts nothing, reveres nothing, knows nothing,
sees nothing candidly, which conflicts with the school in
which he has been tutored. He looks at every thing
under the shadow of the school. He apes the dialect
of the school. The truths of common sense, which
other men can express in the language of common
sense, he puts into the formulae of the school. The
most simple elements of belief he must transmute in
the laboratory of the school. Nothing seems literary
to his taste, nothing puts on the glamour of literary
associations, so as to excite his respect, till it has been
fused in the alembic of the school.
Such subservience to one or to few models of thought
is a sad folly, an enormous folly. But one book in
the world deserves such submission of the intellect,
and that book never claims it in respect to literary
taste. A young man should check the beginnings of
s"ach a folly in his own consciousness. An amateur in
the cultivation of orange-trees tells me that the fruitage
of the tree depends on the size of the box in which
you pack its roots when it is young. Cramp them then,
and you can never make other than a dwarf of it.
Give them large room to expand, and the quality, as
LECT. XIII.] FASTIDIOUS CRITICISM. 205
well as abundance, of the fruit, will reward your fore-
thought. So it is with a young scholar's early tastes.
By an agile effort of good sense he can rid them of a
narrow prejudice when it is new. Later in life he can
only live it through at the expense of a great deal of
contraction of usefulness, and alloy of pleasure.
Some minds never do live through their self-subjec-
tion to a one-sided authorship. In the weaker class of
minds the effects of such a period of enslavement sink
dee]), and become a second nature. They become as
inevitable and involuntary as the distinction between
the right and left hands, — a distinction which physi-
ologists now declare to be entirely unnecessary, if the
physical mechanism could only be started into volun-
tary use without it. It is said that our right-handed
habit of body has the effect, upon a man lost in a
forest, of insensibly twisting him around to the left, to
thp extent of eventually moving in a circle, throuo-h
tho mere instinct of the right side to take the lead
of the left, and that the circle, other things being
equal, will always be described in one way, — from right
to left. Such a monotonous circle does the life's cul-
ture of some men become, who are never emancipated
from a one-sided twist received in their early discipline.
They never learn to do even-handed justice, in their
literary judgments, to ajiy broad fraternity of authors.
They never learn to enjoy any wide range of scholar-
ship. They never become, therefore, men of generous
culture in their own development. They are always
lost in the forest, and always trampmg in a spiral.
Ruskin says that a false taste may be known by its
fastidiousness. "It tests all things," he says, "by the
way they fit itr But a true taste, he contends, is
206 MEN AND BOOKS. [iect. xuh
" reverent and unselfish," for ever learning, for ever
growing, and " testing itself by the way it fits thiiigs,^'*
This is as true in literature as in art.
Let us, then, be jealous of the influence of schools
in any thing. Be watchful of the power of favorite
authors over you. Professor Reed says he has known
a man " late in life to lose the power of sound literary
judgment and enjoyment," through "bigotry in the
choice of books." It seems, at the first sight, to be
an ungenerous caution to a young writer ; but it is a
very necessary one. Beware of your favorites in any
thing, — your favorite author, your favorite preacher,
your favorite instructor, the head of your sect, the
originator of your school in philosophy, the leading
expounder of your type of theology, the representative
man in your beau ideal of culture. Stand off, and
measure them all. Wait a wliile : let your judgment
of them take years in the forming. Receive trustfully
and gratefully whatever they give you which satisfies
the varied cravings of your nature, and helps your
culture to an even balance, but hold in suspense for
a time any influence from them which surfeits some
tastes, and leaves others to starve.
There must come, in the lives of us all, a period at
which we revise our early enthusiasms, and smile sadly
at some of them. A blessing to us are those authors
and those men, whom, after that ripening period, we
find that we have not outlived. The blessing will be
proportionate to their number and to the range of
culture which >hey represent.
LECTURE XIV.
BEEADTH OF RANGE EST PASTORAL STUDY, CON-
TINUED.— THE STUDY OF LIVING SPEAKERS.
Before we leave the topic of breadth of range in
our studies, an excursus deserves a brief consideration,
upon the fact that the clergy are under peculiar temp-
tations to narrow discipline. Not all is true which is
often affirmed of the literary bigotry of the ministry.
Yet the fact of the peril is a reality.
The intellectual intensity of the clerical profession is
one source of the peril. It demands intense concentra-
tion of mind. Like other men of sense, the clergy
must be about their business. They must work at it
in dead earnest. Reading, therefore, is at the best but
an appendage to professional duty. A very large
portion of a pastor's waking hours must be given to
mental production, not to accumulation, not to the
culture which books give. The temptation follows
inevitably to be content with a contracted range of
reading ; if not with professional reading alone, with a
range of other reading which has no freshening variety.
Again : intensity of 77ioral excitement in the ministry
enhances the peril. Professional duty in the ministry
draws deep and exhaustively upon the moral sensibili-
ties. It absorbs vitality, as white-heat does oxygen.
A pastor, therefore, is often in danger of having no
207
2U« MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xiv.
spirit left in him for literature which does not contrib-
ute directly and palpably to professional service. No
other profession equals the ministry in respect to this
moral pressure from above and aroun*^, crowding it
down and inward upon its peculiarities. No other
enlists such forces of conscience in behalf of its pecu-
liarities.
Further : unenlightened convictions of conscience in
the ministry sometimes enhance the peril of a con-
tracted culture. Impulse of conscience must often be
balanced by good sense, before it will permit a clergy-
man to engage happily in any very broad range of
reading. Conscientious prejudices against learning
constitute one of the perpetual burdens of the church.
The clerical right to culture has been purchased at an
immense cost of conflict with unenlightened consciences.
I have known a clergyman who had passed through a
collegiate and professional training of seven years, who,
at the end of it, thought it not right for a minister to
read Shakspeare. When the Rev. Edwards A. Park,
D.D., occupied this rhetorical chair, he formed among
the students a Shakspeare Club, for the elaborate
discussion of the style, the philosophy, the plots, and
the theology of Shakspeare. It encountered so much
opposition from timid consciences, in the seminary and
out of it, that he thought it necessary to deliver a lec-
ture on the " propriety of studying Shakspeare, and the
special usefulness of the study to ministers."
It is to be conceded that the danger apprehended
by some fervent pastors, of a spiritual chill from intel-
lectual enthusiasm, is n^ t wholly imaginary. Periods
have occurred in which some sections of the church
ha^e suffered thus. Such was the case with the Church
LECT. XIV.] CONSCIENCE IN STUDY. 209
of Scotland in that portion of the eighteenth century
in which the characteristic representatives of lier pulpit
were such men as Dr. Blair and Dr. Robertson. They
were eminent in the literature of Scotland, but of arctic
temperament in her pulpit. Such periods are singu-
larly alike everywhere. A lenient morality supplants
fervid piety ; doctrinal Christianity is held esoterically
as a thing to be believed, but not preached ; truisms
and commonplaces make up the staple of sermons ; the
clergy give themselves to other avocations than that oi
apostolic preaching ; and the great bulk of the people
slumber in religious torpor. The awakened mind of
Scotland gave to such a ministry a name which is fittmg
to it in all times, by calling it "Moderate." Every
ministry of every age needs protection against the
danger of a " moderate " pulpit. We must admit the
danger, and be fore-armed against it.
But this need not prevent our recognition of the
opposite peril. Our profession appeals so powerfully
to the religious part of our nature, that often a young
minister is obliged to instruct and to discipline his con-
science, and to crowd it to a liberal action, before he
can peacefully pursue lines of study which are essential
to his intellectual growth, and therefore to his profes-
sional success. Probably we have all felt a momentary
thrill of sympathy with the rule of a certain evangel-
ist, to read no book but the Bible. Yet one sequence
of that rule was, that his range of materials for the
pulpit was so limited, that he was obliged to ask the
reporters not to report his sermons. A pastor should
not cherish a conscience which must be coddled at such
a sacrifice of his intellectual breadth. The laws of God
require it as little as the canons of good taste. A
good conscience is always good sense.
210 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xiv.
In the . 3 several modes, through the mental intensity
of clerical duties, through the intensity of moral excite-
ment attending them, and through false convictions of
conscience, the clergy are exposed to peculiar tempta-
tions to a contracted culture. Therefore we should not
read professional literature alone. Even in professional
literature we should not confine ourselves to school or
sect. One cause of awkwardness and monotony in ser-
mons is often that their authors read little but sermons
and kindred theological writings. For the full vigor of
the pulpit we need a cross of sermons with other forms
of literature. Then, diversity of school and of sect is
vital. The Church of England has furnished a very
different order of preachers from those of Scotland.
The Methodist and the Presbyterian types of preaching
are almost antipodes. The Congregational Church of
New England has a type of its own. You might search
the continent of Europe over, and not find, in all its
history of all its sects, a preacher like Dr. Emmons, or
another like Dr. Bushnell.
We must be generous, then, in our appreciation of
diversities. No other bigotry is so degrading as bigotry
in culture. It underlies opinions, and insures bigotry
there. Be our reading much or little, we should read
always in the spirit of respect for varieties, even oppo-
sites, in literary character. I can not more fitly close
this review of the necessity of variety in our reading
than by quoting the opinion of Dr. Thomas Arnold of
Rugby. He thought more profoundly upon the whole
theory and practice of education than any other man
of our times.
In a letter on the studies of a clergyman, he expresses
himself as follows ; viz., " I would entreat every man
LECT. XIV.] UNWRITTEN LITERATURE. 211
with whom I had any influence, that, if he reads at all,
he should read widely and comprehensively; that he
should not read exclusively what is called divinity.
Learning of this sort, when not mixed with that com-
prehensive study which alone deserves the name, is, I
am satisfied, an actual mischief to a man's mind. It
impairs his simple common sense. It makes him nar-
row-minded, and fills him with absurdities. If a man
values power of seeing truth, and judging soundly, let
him not read exclusively those who are called divines.
With regard to the fathers, in all cases preserve the
proportions of your reading. Read, along with the
fathers, the writings of men of other times and of
different powers of mind. Keep your view of men
and things extensive. He who reads deeply in one
class of writers only, gets views which are sure to be
perverted, and which are not only narrow, but false. If
I have a confident opinion on any one point connected
with the improvement of the human mind, it is on
this."
(8) The principles already named should be quali-
fied b}^ another, which is that a scholarly ideal of study
includes the study of unwritten literature. The habit
which is practicable to a pastor in tliis respect is not
the appropriation of a great amount of time to the ■
purpose, but the cultivation of professional vigilance in
improving such opportunities as fall in his way. Do
not waste them by making entertainments of them.
Make them tributary to your stock of oratorical knowl-
edge. A great oration, a masterly constitutional argu-
ment, a powerful forensic plea, a fini /hed sermon,
Tittered by the living voice, belong, as much as our
libraries do, to the literature of the age. A preacher's
212 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xiv.
culture must suffer, if he ignores them. Generally, a
young man's first awakening to the dignity of a schol-
aiY life is the result of his listening to an oral address.
My own first conceptions, which have never been essen-
tially changed, of excellence in English style, I owe to
my hearing, at the age of sixteen years, an oration
by Edward Everett, at a Commencement of Amherst
College. Our debt to such literary models we often
imdervalue, because they are not a book. We do not
see them on our library-shelves. Several things con-
cerning them deserve attention.
This unwritten literature is of great magnitude and
variety. Very little, comparatively, of the bulk of
cultivated thought, finds its w^ay to the press. The
most voluminous and the weightiest part of it is speech,
not writing. I say deliberately the weightiest litera-
ture of the world is spoken, not written. That, and
that only, is literature, which is power in thought as
expressed in language. Thought moving other minds
at the will of him who utters it, — this is literature.
The weightiest volume of it is not in our libraries.
Our schools have little direct concern with it. True,
it is a paradox to denominate it literature; but the
paradox is not deceptive, and no other word expresses
it as well.
Earnest conversation is full of this unwritten litera-
ture. The table-talk of many other men besides Luther
and Coleridge and Johnson is as worthy as theirs of
a place on our bookshelves. Emerson says, " Better
things are said, more incisive, more wit and insight are
dropped in talk and forgotten by the speaker, than gets
into books. The problem of both the talker and the
rra'o ' are the same."
LECT. XIV.] LITERATURE IN CONVERSATION. 218
Dr. Johnson became a scholarly authority in Eng-
land by his conversation more than by his writino:s.
His sway of English literature proceeded from the club-
house rather than from the printing-house. Hence tliat
sway is in our day becoming a myth. We do not find
good reason for it in his writings. Walter Scott talked
more poetry, and Edmund Burke more eloquence, than
they ever wrote. Men used to part with Dr. Arnold
at midnight, mourning over the loss to the press of
the materials of literature which they had heard from
his lips in the few hours before. The "Autocrat of
the Breakfast-Table " grew out of the request of the
friends of Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes that he would
print some of his conversations. There is a humble
pastor in Essex County, Massachusetts, who has been
repeatedly petitioned by his clerical brethren to save
for them in permanent form the seeds of prolific
thought which he has scattered at random among them
in meetings of ministerial associations. The Rev.
Henry Ward Beecher is said to have talked more and
sounder theology than he knows how to preach.
Home-life in many cultivated families abounds with
unwritten literature. It is often full of healthy criti-
cism of books, of art, of music, of material nature, and
full of more than golden links of suggestion which
bind these to life and to eternity. A record of the
select hours in many cultivated households, through
any period of five years' continuance, would form a
volume of literature as vital as any in the world.
Specially in crises of history, it does not require
knowledge of libraries to create the materials of libra-
ries. In critical periods, like those of the rise of
Christianity, the Crusades, the Reformation, the civil
214 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xiv.
wars in England, the English Commonwealth, the
American Revolution, the overthrow of American
slavery, men aiid women who have nothing that the
world calls litera y culture live literature in thousands
of humble homes. They talk literature, though it may
be ungrammatically. Families by thousands, during
the war of the Rebellion, lived books like that of the
" Schonb erg-Co tta Family."
In a similar manner, the colloquial instructions of
schools, the interviews of pastors with their parish-
ioners, the emotive utterances of meetings for religious
conference, contain the richest germs of literature.
They contain, often, the latest and the wisest and the
most hearty developments of that which makes power in
books. Say what we may of the dullness of prayer-
meetings, churches are sometimes sensible of an intel-
lectual as well as a spiritual quickening in them, which
they do not get from an equal amount of discourse
from the pulpit. Some pastors are nearer to the very
magazine of literary power: they draw more heat
straight from central fires in their plain talks on a
sabbath evening than in the sermons of the day. The
people know nothing of either as literature ; but they
feel the difference none the less. The difference is just
that which they feel between the reading of a bright
book and the reading of a dull one. A pastor in the
city of Boston has been heard to say, "If I must
choose one to the exclusion of the other, between the
pulpit and the dais of the conference-room, give me the
conference-room. On the latter, I and my audiences
are ten feet nean^r to each other in more senses than
one."
I once inquired of an alumnus of this seminary what
LECT. XIV.] HOMELY LITERATURE. 215
lived in his memory as having been the most powerful
mental stimulus to him in the curriculum of the semi-
nary. He answered without hesitation, " The Wednes-
day evenmg conference." He specified particularly the
conferences conducted by one professor. Not all the
rest of the instructions he received here had laid him
under so deep an obligation as the plair, extempora-
neous talks of that one man. In a vast variety of
these homely forms are found unwritten volumes. I
am not insensible of the ease with which this view may
be burlesqued. It may seem to be ludicrously dis-
proved in the very next prayer-meeting you attend. I
concede drawbacks, but claim that a residuum remains
which is worthy of our libraries. Put into type the
very thoughts which fly like shuttles back and forth
among living minds in their homeliest intercourse about
almost any thing in which they are in dead earnest, and
you have in the result books which would live by the
side of venerable names in folios.
It deserves note, therefore, that a literary man makes
a fundamental mistake, who neglects to observe litera-
ture in these homely, unwritten forms. No matter how
aspiring he may be in his aims, he can not afford to
ignore these low grounds of literary expression. No
author can afford to lose the discipline of conversation
with illiterate men. It supplies a stimulus, and in some
respects a model, which he can obtain nowhere else.
Sir Walter Scott expressed his opinion on the subject
extravagantly; but he was right in the principle for
which he contended, that men are original thinkers and
talkers on that which is the business of their lives.
The professors of Edinburgh, dining out, were recre-
ating : the merchants of Edinburgh, in their counting-
216 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xiv.
rooms, were working t) the extreme of tlieir mental
tension. This made the difference to Sir Walter
between dulhiess and earnestness. No man is dull who
is really in earnest about any thing, be it but the twist
of a pin's head.
Why does literary seclusion, if long unbroken, induce
unhealthiness of mind? Why does literary monasti-
cism always fail in its aims ? Why was " Brook Farm "
a failure ? Poets, philosophers, scholars, seers, went
there, expecting to pass their evenings in "high con-
verse " of kindred souls. But I have been told, as
coming from one of them after he had outlived the
dream, that they sometimes went out at sunset, in the
desperation of their mental vacuity, and leaned over
the pig-sty, thrusting sticks at the swine for occupation.
This is a caricature, doubtless; yet it is quite in the
order of nature that its equivalent should have occurred.
Literary culture revolts from such seclusion as heartily
and inevitably as religion does from the monastery and
the convent. It is not good for man to be alone.
Specially is it true that a public speaker can not
afford to be ignorant of speech as practiced by those
who hear him. A preacher can not afford to part with
a knowledge of speech as it exists in the homes of his
people. If you become men of power in the pulpit, — I
mean if you become spiritual chiefs, and not merely
conventional figure-heads to your churches, — you will
owe your power in part to the very men and women
and children who feel it from you. The power comes
in part from them to you, before it goes back as power
f.om you to them. When our Lord would teach his
disciples a great principle in the philosophy of religion,
" he set a little child in the midst of them." So do the
LECT. xiv.l ELOQUENCE REPRESENTATIVE. 217
great principles of truth in many other things come
into clearest light by illnstration in the most artless
and unconscious exemplars. Common things illustrate
profound things. Common people are often the most
original. Therefore you will discover, that, to move
them with your thought, you must know and respect
theu" thought. To reach them with your style, you
must master their style. I do not say must use their
style, but must master it. To reach them at all, you
must know what their mental experience is, what they
have lived through, and what experiment of life they
are trying, when you try your power upon them. Their
mental life and your mental life must run in parallels
not wide apart from each other. Otherwise your speech
can never bridge over the gulf between. Thinking
men will hear you incredulously ; good women will sit
solitary under your ministry ; and children will look at
you from the corners of their eyes.
Yet again : unwritten literature has a representative
character. Whenever it succeeds, it represents a mass
of unwritten thought which lies below it. The great
orator in real life is the spokesman of those who hear
him. He utters thoughts which are floating in dimmer
conceptions and more homely words in their hearts. He
is the interpreter to them of their own souls. Therein
lies his power over them. He plays upon an instru-
ment which is tuned by a more cunning hand. Listen-
ing to such a man, therefore, gives insight into the
thought of the living generation. It is studying litera-
ture in the very process of its formation. What would
we not give, if we could listen to-day to Edmund Burke
on the impeachment of Warren Hastings, or to Robert
Hall on the death of the Princess Charlotte, or to
218 ME.^ AND BOOKS. [lect. xrr.
Webster in his reply to Hayne ? To study these phe-
nomena in the very process of their evolution would
give to our culture what no books contain. It would
be like watching the crystallization of the Kohinoor.
But such, in kind, are the processes of the oral litera-
ture of our own times. They are forming deposits,
some of which will be permanent. The next genera-
tions will read them, as we now read Burke and Jeremy
Taylor. They Avill regret that they never heard the
living orators and preachers of to-day, as we regret that
we never heard those whose names bore a halo in our
youth. You have heard men say that it would be a
lifelong regret to them that they never heard Webster,
Clay, and Calhoun, the great triumvirate of the United-
States Senate. Let us prize while we have them the
opportunities of hearing the models of living eloquence
in our day. They are the chief representatives of that
immense collection of literature which real life is creat-
ing in unwritten forms.
Moreover, an oral address is a form of literature
which can not be completely represented by the press.
The old idea, — as old as eloquence itself, — that the
living voice is above all other media of communicating
thought, is confirmed by all the ages. This superiority
to the press is the birthright of the pulpit. The press,
with its thundering enginery, can not represent the
man in an oral address. Yet the man is the soul of
the oral address. His physical framework is part of it.
Attitude, gesture, tone, eye, lip, the muscular varieties
of countenance, all that goes to make up what the
ancients called ti.e vivida vultus, and that secret mag-
netic emanation from the whole person, the origin of
which we can not locate in any one member or feature,
LECT. XIV.] ELOQUENCE OP PANTOMIME. 219
— these are all symbols of a speaker's thought as truly
as his words are.
In the old Greek pantomime not a word was uttered ;
yet it sometimes aroused an audience to such excite-
ment, that, on certain subjects, it was forbidden by
law. King Ferdinand of Naples, after the revolution^
ary movements of 1822, addressed the lazzaroai from
the balcony of the palace, in the midst of tumultuous
shouting, and used no language but that of signs, and
yet made himself entirely intelligible. " He reproached,
threatened, admonished, forgave, and finally dismissed
the rabble as thoroughly persuaded and edified by the
gesticulations of the royal Punch, as an American
crowd would have been by the eloquence of Webster."
Much more may vocalized thought in the oral address
surpass written thought in a book. As a type of lit-
erature the oral production must have peculiarities
which the press can not preserve to us.
This is illustrated in the standing fact of historic
eloquence, that, as recorded, it commonly disappoints
us. The great orators of the past seldom or never
in the reading equal our expectations. Who feels that
the orations of Demosthenes equal the reputation of
the first orator of Greece ? His name could never have
held the place it has in modern criticism, were it not
for the momentum given to his fame by Athenian
opinion. Our best judgments of the orators of the
past are the historic judgments : they are the opinions
of them which criticism has inherited. If we had
picked up the works of Cicero in a nameless scroll on
the coast of Siam, it is doubtful whether we shoiid
have discovered for ourselves their superlative excel-
lence. So of the Earl of Chatham: his speethcs do
220 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xiv.
not explain to us why the House of Commons should
have quailed before his utterance of the word " sugar."
All that remains of Patrick Henry leaves a shadow
of mystery over his reputed power with the House of
Burgesser of the Old Dominion.
Among preachers none disappoint us more than
the most illustrious of them. We can not discover
Whitefield and Robert Hall in their published sermons.
We have to accept the traditions of their unintelligible
success. Of any one of Whitefield's sermons it is lit-
erally true, that, though we have every word of it in
print, we have but a fragment. The major part of the
symbols of his thought are not in his words. The man
is not there. The soul of the orator is not there. The
spiritual witness to the union of his soul with the souls
of his hearers is not there. These were intangible and
evanescent. The audience felt them, but no invention
of science could transmit them. One can scarcely read
a sermon of Whitefield's, with a remembrance of the
effects it wrought, without a feeling akin to that which
one has in looking upon a body which is awaiting its
resurrection. A living oratory, therefore, should be
regarded as a type of literature which can be thor-
oughly known in no other form.
Once more : a study of printed literature alone may
give us false conceptions of what oral eloquence is.
Some excellences of printed thought are not adapted
to oral speech. You have heard it said of a sermon,
" That will read better than it sounds." It is a severe
criticism. An oral address ought not to read better
than it sounds: if it does so, it is an essay, not a
speech. On one occasion, when a speech in the House
of Commons was highly praised in the hearing of Mr.
LKCT. XIV.] SPEECH AND ESSAY. 221
Fox, he inguired, "Does it read well ? " — " Yns, grand-
ly," was the answer. "Then," said Mr. Fox, "it was
not a good speech." The principle is a subtle one, but
the facts of parliamentary eloquence confirm it. The
converse of the principle is equally true, — that a pro-
duction which does 7iot read well may for that reason
have been a good speech.
From this principle it follows that a man who studies
only printed literature may obtain a false theory of oral
eloquence. This peril is no fiction. It is working evil
in the living ministry. Scores of ministers are preach-
ing after the model of the essay. They are literally
" talking like a book." They are not orators. They
will not be such, till they form an ideal of eloquence
which involves the act of imagining an audience, and
constructing thought for expression to the ear.
Here let a brief excursus be indulged upon the ques-
tion, often asked, "What is it in oral speech which
distinguishes it from the essay?" I can not answer
this very perspicuously by definitions ; but perhaps it
can be answered by a contrast of examples. The
following is an extract from a recent essay on the
" End of God in Creation : " —
"What was the final cause of creation? The transition from
the nnconditioned to the conditioned is incomprehensible by the
human faculties. What that transition is, and how it cculd take
l^lace, and how it became an actualized occurrence, it is ( onfessed
on all hands are absolutely incomprehensible enigmas. We can
not reasonably imagine, then, that, if we are thus ignorant of the
nature and the mode of this stupendous fact, we can nevertheless
comprehend its primitive ground, can explore its ultimate reasons,
can divine its final motive. Nor can we thmk to unveil the Infinite
Soul at that moment, when, according to our conceptions, the eter-
nal uniformity was interrupted, and a new mode of being, abso-
222 MEN AND BOOKS. [leot. xiv.
lutely uniiitelligible to us, was first introduced. We can not
think to grasp all tlie views which were present to that Soul,
extending from the tmbeginning past to the unending future, and
to fathom all its purposes, and to analyze all its motives. If any-
where, we must here repel every thing like dogmatic interpretation
of the phenomena, and admit whatever is put forth only as con-
jectm-al in its nature, or at all events partial, and belonging far
more to the surface than to the interior of the subject."
This is essay. Listening to it, one can not fail to see
that it needs to be read in order to be appreciated.
To a hearer it is dull ; to some hearers, obscure. Yet
are not some sermons constructed on this model? Are
they not inevitably delivered with intonations and a
cadence which almost compel the sense of humdrum in
the listener?
Take, now, the same theme, and the same leading
thoughts, and the same succession of thoughts, but
expressed in the following style : —
" Why did God create the universe ? Creation is incomprehen-
sible to man. What is creation ? How was it possible ? How
did it ever come to be? I can not answer. Can you? Every
man of common sense confesses his ignorance here. But if we
are ignorant of what creation is, and how it is, can we imagine
that we understand why it is? Shall we ihink to unveil the mind
of God in the stupendous act? That moment when God said,
' Let there be light,' was a moment of which we can know nothing
but that 'there was light.' Shall we think to see all that God
saw? Can we look through the past without beginning, and the
future without end, and fathom all his purposes and all his mo-
tives ? Can we by searching find out God ? If we must repel
assertion anyA;\'here, we must do so here. WTiatever we may think,
it is but little more than guess-work. At the best, it can be but
knowing in part. The most we can know must be on the surface.
It can not penetrate to the heart of the matter."
LECT. XIV.] PREACHING ESSAYS. 223
Is not this speech, as distinct from essay ? Is not the
difference obvious ? Is it not vital to oral style ? Some
critics would underrate it. They would pronounce it
superficial, because it has not the ponderous structure,
and the swelling cadence, of the original. They would
call it popular, as distinct from scholarly, because it
can be appreciated in the hearing.
Whatever may be true of such criticism, my point is,
that oral speech to any class of hearers requires certain
peculiarities which do not belong to the essay, and
are not largely illustrated in printed forms of thought.
Therefore, by studying those forms alone, a preacher
may obtain false ideas of oral eloquence. The natural
fruit of such a training is, that a preacher should read
essays from the pulpit all his life without knowing it.
The mystery of his ministry to him may be, that he
can interest his people so much more effectively out of
the pulpit than in it. But the mystery is no mystery.
It is simply, that, out of the pulpit, he speaks^ and in it
he essays. This is the reason why preachers are so
often requested to repeat or to publish their extempo-
raneous sermons, while their written sermons, of vastly
more solid worth, lie unhonored in their desks. This
is the secret reason why the conference-room sometimes
sustains the pulpit which stands in ponderous dignity
above it. It is because in the one the preacher talks,
and in the other he soliloquizes. In the one he is
eloquent therefore; in the other — what shall I call it?
LECTURE XV. 1
THE STUDY OF THE SCBIPTTIRES AS LITERARY
CLASSICS.
(9) One remaining principle, by which other prin-
ciples of selection in our study of books should be
qualified, is that we should study the Scriptures as
literary models. It furnishes a cheering solution, in
part, to the problem of the practicability of scholarly
culture to a pastor, that a very vital portion of that
culture may be derived from the one volume which is
central to his professional labors. No other profession
finds in its most necessary and vital work such a
stimulus to intellectual depth and breadth as that
which the pulpit finds in the study of the Scriptures.
Good cheer is this to an overburdened pastor.
Allusion was made to some of the biblical writers,
in speaking of the choice of authors who have been
controlling powers in history. I have purposely re-
served the consideration of the study of the Bible as
a whole, because its study as a collection of literary
productioas may be advocated by reasons peculiar to
itself.
Let me ask you to note first — without comment,
1 Portions of the lectures on the Study of the Scriptures have beeu
alreatly published in a lermon preached before the government of
Massachusetts.
224
LECT. XV.] THE SCRIPTURES IGNORED. 225
for the point is so obvious — the distinction between
the study of the Bible as a religious revelation and the
study of it as a literary classic.
This suggests immediately the singular neglect of
the Bible by modern literary taste. It is one of the
subtle collateral evidences of human depravity, that
the republic of letters has so generally ignored the
Scriptures as a literary production. Such is the habit
of the scholarly thought of our times, that, when the
idea of a model of such thought is first suggested to
us, it is in connection wholly with uninspired names.
If a stranger at a university were to ask one, on the
spur of the moment, to give the names of ten models
of the first class in the history of the press, the reply
would doubtless be entirely oblivious of the writers of
the Bible.
As purely literary labor, and for scholarly purposes
alone, where is criticism of the Bible ever taught,
outside of theological schools? By the common con-
sent of scholars, commentaries on the Scriptures are
relegated to the curriculum of professional study.
Even there they are often regarded as provincial, not
to say unscholarly. Would the literary study of the
Bible, think you, be welcomed at Harvard College with
the same respectful enthusiasm with which a course of
lectures on Shakspeare, by an expert in Shakspearean
literature, would be received ? Could a biblical club for
the literary criticism of the Pentateuch be sustained at
Yale College as vigorously as the Chaucer Club was
sustained at Andover a few years ago ? This is one of
the developments of what I have elsewhere denomi-
nated the cant of literature. The secret and uncon-
scious antipathy of the human mind to the moral aim
226 MEN AND BOd KS. [lect. xt .
of the Scriptures betrays itself in that vanity cf scholar-
ship wliich affects to despise or ignore their literary
claims.
Or put the case in another way. One can easily
imadne what a stir in the learned world would be
created, if certain portions of the Bible were recent
antiquarian discoveries, claiming no inspired authority.
Suppose that the first chapter of Genesis had been
exhumed, during the last insurrection in India, from
the ruins of an old temple of Vishnu. Conceive that
the Fifty-first Psalm had been just deciphered from a
hieroglyph in the Pyramids. Picture to j^ourself the
latest importation of a slab from Nineveh as contain-
ing the first known inscription of one of the closing
chapters of the Book of Job. Imagine that the Sermon
on the Mount had just come to light from a lost and
recovered book of Seneca, or had been found among the
meditations of Aurelius Antoninus. What an ecstasy
would rouse the dignity of the scholastic world ! What
an inundation we should have of literary astonishment !
What exultant monographs from Westminster Reviews.
What eager quotations from the revered authors, as the
peers of Confucius and Plato ! Our universities would
resound for a decade with eulogiums upon the resur-
rection of a noble antiquity.
But because the Scriptures are the word of God,
because they claim authority in morals, because they
press close upon the conscience, the literary mind of
the race has silently turned away from them as models
of literary culture, and has expended itself on gods and
goddesses of its own creation ,
Our current systems of education are founded in part
on this perversion of scholarly taste. They assume that
LECT. XV.] THE BIBLE IN COLLEGES. 227
the study of the Bible is not a necessity to a liberal
education. It ranks with the study of anatomy or of
the law of mortmain. So far as I know, the only ex-
ceptions to this view are found in the German gym-
nasia, where the Old and New Testaments are, or were
a few years ago, criticised and taught by the side of
Xenophon and Virgil. The study of the Bible in our
American colleges — what shall I say of it? Do I
wrong it in saying that it is an expedient of collegiate
police? Is it not sometimes required mainly because
the authorities do not know what else to do with
Monday morning? Such at least was the usage in my
time.
The fact is a singular one, that in the German schools,
where the inspiration of the Bible is often discarded,
and where Ezekiel and St. Paul are criticised precisely
as criticism deals with Aristophanes and Juvenal, the
literature of the Bible is restored to respectable appre-
ciation. It is recognized as a model of scholarly cul-
ture. The moment the weight of inspiration is taken
off, and a scholar can approach the Scriptures with no
response of conscience to them as a religious authority,
then respect returns for them as literary classics.
It is worthy of notice, that in this country a positive
retrograde has taken place on this subject in the col-
legiate curriculum. During the first century of the
existence of Harvard College, the Greek New Testa-
ment was the only Greek text-book put into the hands
of its students. The time was, when Hebrew was taught
there as an undergraduate study. The professors could
some of them converse in Hebrew. How much do the
undergraduates of the venerable university know of
Hebrew now ? How often do its learned faculty regale
themselves in Hebrew colloquy?
228 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xv.
To appreciate the Bible ourselves, then, as a literary
classic, we need to emancipate ourselves from the cur-
rent opinion of educated men on the subject. We have
probably grown into that opinion unconsciously. Un-
educated Christians, in their indiscriminate reverence
for the Scriptures, may be nearer the truth than we are
in our scholarly judgment. We may have a process
of self-discipline, more severe than we anticipate, to go
through in restoring the Bible to its true place in our
literary estimate. It will not do to approach it with
prepossessions against it as a literary model.
But, approaching it in an appreciative, scholarly spirit,
we find incitement to the literary study of it in the
fact that the Bible contains the oldest literature in the
world. Interest in antiquity for its own sake is legiti-
mate. That interest is a normal fruit of education, as
well as a natural instinct of the human mind. Every
mind has roots in the past. A thing is presumptively
true, if it is old; and an old truth men will revere.
We all have historic feelers, which reach out for some-
thing to lay hold of, and to steady our faith, amidst the
rush of events. He is not a bold man who can tear
himself loose from the underground of former ages. It
would be an irreparable loss to the edacating forces of
Christendom, if the faith of the Christian world could
be destroyed in the descent of the existing races of
men from one pair ; so ennobling, and so stimulating to
culture, is this instinct of reverence for a long-lived
unity. The human instinct of reverence for the old
story of a paradise, with its halo of the golden begin-
ning of things, is quickening to high culture.
Much of the disciplinary power of the Greek litera-
ture comes to us through our intuitive reverence for the
LECT. XV.] ANTIQUITY OF THE BIBLE. 229
long-lived. So long as Macpherson's impostuie was
undiscovered, and his works were received as the veri-
table productions of Ossian, they exerted a perceptible
influence upon the men of letters in England through
the magnifying power of their reverence for ancient
genius. The literary firmament was ablaze with enthu-
siasm for the great Northern poet. It was like the
northern-lights, as transient, indeed, but, while it lasted,
as enchanting. Had the poems of Ossian been other
than an imposture, it is by no means certain that they
would not have perpetuated their first renown till this
day, so sensitive is the vision of literary taste to any
gleam of genius from a bygone age.
With all the abuses to which this susceptibility of
our. nature is liable, it is in our nature, and for wise
purposes. Within its normal limits, and kept in bal-
ance by the spirit of inquiry, its operation is healthful.
No grand elevation of society, and no finished culture
of the individual, is ever attained without its aid. We
have, then, a very obvious ground of literary interest
in the Scriptures, which is altogether independent of
their inspiration and of their moral uses, in the fact that
they contain the earliest known thoughts of our race in
literary forms. To give definiteness to this fact, let
several specifications be observed in illustration of it.
It is, for instance, a fact, the significance of which
infidelity appreciates if we do not, that the only
authentic history of the world before the deluge is
found in the sacred books of Christianity. The world
of the future never can know any thing of the ante-
diluvians except from the Jewish historian. It would
be worth centuries of toil to the socialism of Europe,
if it could blot out this one fact in the relations of
230 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xv.
the world to the Pentateuch. The late Professor B. B.
Edwards thought it probable that we have also in the
books of Moses, what no other literature can show, a
fragment of poetry which was actually composed in
the antediluvian infancy of the race. Does it not help
us to some conception of the venerableness of these
volumes to recall, that, by the commonly received chro-
nology, they were written eleven hundred years before
Herodotus, whom the world has consented to honor as
the father of history?
The Hebrew jurisprudence is by the same chronology
seven hundred years older than that of Lycurgus, and
two thousand years older than that of Justinian. You
have heard that Thomas Jeiferson was indebted, for his
conception of our American government, to the polity of
an obscure church in Virginia. But republicanism was
foreshadowed in the Hebrew commonwealth nearly
three thousand years before the settlement of James-
town. The principle of the New-England town-meet-
ing, in which De Tocqueville found the corner-stone of
our free institutions, was originated by Jethro, the ven-
erable father-in-law of Moses.
The lyric poetry of the Hebrews was in its golden
age nearly a thousand years before the birth of Horace.
Deborah sang a model of a triumphal song full five
hundred years before Sappho was born. The author of
Ecclesiastes discussed the problem of evil five hundred
years before Socrates in the Dialogues of Plato. The
Epithalamium of the Canticles is nearly a thousand
3' ears older than Ovid's " Art of Love." The Book of
Esther was a venerable fragment of biography, more
strange than fiction, at least twelve hundred years old,
at the dawn of the romantic literature of Europe. The
LECT. XV.] THE BOOK OF JOB. 231
Proverbs of Solomon are by eight hundred years more
ancient than the Treatises of Seneca.
Dr. Johnson once read a manuscript copy of a pas-
toral story to a group of friends in London. They
begged of him to inform them where he obtained it,
and who was the writer. Imagine their amazement,
if he had told them that it was an ancient treasure,
written, in a language now dead, nine hundred years
before the Georgics of Virgil, seven hundred years
before the Idyls of Theocritus, and twenty-five hundred
years before the discovery of America, and that it had
been remarkably preserved among the archives of the
Hebrews ; for it was no other than the Book of Ruth.
Jeremiah is as properly pronounced the founder of
the elegiac school of poetry as Mimnermus, to whom
its origin is commonly ascribed ; for they were, proba-
bly, for a short time, contemporaries, the Hebrew
prophet being by half a century the senior.
The entire bulk of the prophetic literature of the
Hebrews; a literature extraordinary; one which has
laws of its own, to which there is and can be no
parallel in any uninspired workings of the human mind
— this mysterious, often unfathomable compendium of
the world's future, which the wisdom of twenty cen-
turies has not exhausted, was, the whole of it, anterior
to the Augustan age of Rome. Even the writers of
the New Testament are all of them of more venerable
antiquity than Tacitus and Plutarch, and Pliny the
Younger.
What shall be said of the Book of Job? Bi)lical
scholars only conjecture its age ; but the argument for
its great antiquity appears to me, though not by any
means conclusive, at least as strong as that for it» latei
232 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xv.
origin. If the first hypothesis be true, this is the oldest
volume now existing, at least eight hundred years
older than Homer. It was already an ancient poem
when Cecrops is conjectured to have founded Athens.
When Britain was invaded by the Romans, it was more
time-worn than the name of Julius Csesar to-day is to
us. Natural philosophers now turn to its allusions as
the only recorded evidence we have of the state of the
arts and sciences from three to four thousand years ago.
A modern commentator on the book has collated from
it hints of the then existing state of knowledge respect-
ing astronomy, geography, cosmology, meteorology,
mining, precious stones, coining, writing, engraving,
medicine, music, hunting, husbandry, modes of travel,
the military art, and zoology. Any work, surely, which
should be so fortunate as to be of uninspired author-
ity, and should give to the world the obscurest
authentic hints of the state of these sciences and arts
forty centuries back, would be hailed as a treasure
worthy of a nation's purchase. In the study of such a
volume we may legitimately feel the same enthusiasm
which Napoleon, in the campaign of Egypt, sought to
arouse in his soldiers, when he exclaimed to them,
'' Forty centuries look down upon you."
Whatever is becoming to a scholarly spirit, then, in
a love of ancient literature, for the sake of the stimu-
lating and ennobling effect of its antiquity, we have
reason to cherish for the Scriptures, considered merely
as literary classics.
We find another inducement to the literary study of
the Scriptures, in ^>he fact that they sustain a regenera-
tive connection with Oriental civilization. Two things
comprise the i)oints essential to this aspect of the
subject.
LECT. XV.] ORIENTAL CIVILIZATION. 233
One is, that the Oriental mind is giving no signs of
having finished its work in history. What is the law
of Providence respecting nations and races which have
finished their work as powers in the world's destiny ?
It is a law of doom. Such nations and races die.
Christianity, which is the flower and fruitage of Provi-
dence, has always been prophetic in its instincts. It
has never bound itself to the soil anywhere. The law
of its being is, that it shall pass away from superannu-
ated to youthful races, from decadent to germinant na-
tions, from expiring to nascent languages, from senile to
virile literatures. Then those races, nations, languages,
and literatures which represent its abandoned con-
quests die, if they have in them no recuperative power
to fit them for future use. Under this law of divine
operation the entire Oriental stock of mind, if it has
no Christian future, ought now to be evincing signs of
dissolution. But this is by no means true of it. The
nations which represent it are not, as a whole, dying
out. They are not visibly approximating their end.
More than one of the Asiatic races seem to be as full-
blooded, and as virile in their physical make, and as
likely to endure for thirty generations, as they did a
thousand years ago. They seem to be waiting in grand
reserve, as the beds of anthracite have waited with
latent fires, for futurn use. That ancient development
of man which began on the plains of Shinar bids fair
to live by the side of its Occidental rival, even if it
does not outlive this by reason of its calmer flow of
life.
If it does thus live, all analogy would lead us to
believe that there is something in it which deserves
to live. There is something in it which Providence
234 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect xv.
has a use for in the luture. It has energy; it has
resources ; it has faculty ; it has manly tastes and pro-
clivities; it has something or other, which, under
divine regeneration, will be a cause of growth, if in-
fused into the life-blood of the Western races. The
circle of Occidental development may be enlarged by
it. The channel in which our civilization is moving
may be thus widened and deepened.
The other fact bearing upon the topic before us is,
that, if new systems of thought are to grow up among
the Asiatics, with any function of control in the world,
they must be the creations of the Bible. Nothing else
represents the Oriental mind in any form which can
ever rouse it to its utmost of capacity. No tiling else,
therefore, can ever make it a power in the future civ-
ilization. None but a visionary can look for a rejuve-
nescence of Asia in coming ages from any internal
forces now acting there independently of the Scrip-
tures. The history of the East contains nothing which
can ever be to the world, for instance, what the revived
literatures of Greece and Rome were to the middle
ages of Europe. Explorers find nothing there out of
which great libraries can grow. They find nothing
that calls for or promises to the future great universi-
ties, or new systems of philosophy, or advanced scien-
tific researches. The East is the land of pyramids and
sphinxes. Whatever that immense territory has to
contribute to the civilization of the future must come
from the germination of biblical thought. It must
be the working of biblical inspiration in the spiritual
renewal of Oriental character, which nothing but the
religion of the Sc riptures can produce.
Why should it be deemed visionary to look for this
tECT. XV.] ORIENTAL LITERATURES. 235
as oue of the results of the infusion of European mind
now going on in Western and Central Asia? Already
the germs of Christian universities and libraries exist
there which may one day allure literary travel front
the West, as those of England and Germany do to-day.
Inspired prophecy aside, it is no more visionary to
predict the re-creation of Oriental mind in forms of
new literatures superior to any the world has yet
known, through the plastic influence of the Scriptures,
than it was to anticipate the birth of the three great
literatures of Europe as the fruit of the modern revival
of the literatures of Greece and Rome. The minds of
nations move in just such immense waves of revolu-
tion. Reasoning a priori, they seem impossible : so
do geologic cataclysms to a race which lives in quiet
over slumbering volcanoes. .But, reasoning a posteriori,
they are only the natural effect of a great force gen-
erating great forces. They seem as gravitation does
to a race which has no conception of what it would
be to exist without it. The diurnal revolutions of the
earth are not more normal or more sure.
The Asiatic races have, indeed, a fairer intellectual
prospect than Europe had at the time of the revival
of letters; and this for the reason that they are to
receive their higher culture in Christian instead of
Pagan forms. Conceive what a difference would have
been created in the destinies of Europe, what centuries
of conflict with barbarism would to human view have
been saved, if the Greek and Roman literatures could
have come into the possession of the modern European
mind freighted with Christian instead of Pagan thought,
and if, thus Christianized, they cc ild have been wrought
into European culture !
236 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xv.
Yet this, to a very large extent, appears likely to be
the process of intellectual awakening to which the
immense forces of Asiatic mind are to be subjected.
Asiatic literatures of the future are to be the direct
product of centuries of Christian culture in other lands.
They are to have no Paganism to exorcise, as European
civilization had, from the very models which are to
inspire them. In Asia, Paganism is to represent in
the future, not only dead institutions, oppressive gov-
ernments, degrading traditions, and popular wretched-
ness, but a puerile literature as well. It can never
there, as it did in Europe, go into solution with Chris-
tianity through the force of a Pagan culture so beau-
tiful and so lofty as to command the reverence of all
scholarly minds.
With this view of the future of the Oriental world,
it is certainly a remarkable feature of the divine plan
that Revelation should be for ever stereotyped, as it is
so largely, in an Oriental mold. It looks, does it not,
as if the Oriental type of the race were yet to be a
power in the world through the Scriptures, as the only
vital nexus between its future and its past.
Napoleon used to say that the only theater fit for
great exploits was the East. Europe, he said, was
contracted : it was provincial. The great races were
beyond the Mediterranean. They were in the ancient
seats of empire, because the numbers were there.
There may be more of truth in this than he meant to
utter. The grandest intellectual and moral conquests
of the world may yet follow the track of Alexan-
der.
From this train of suggestion, the inference is obvi-
ous, that the time can not be distant when enterprising
LECT. XV.] THE FUTURE OF LITERATURE 237
scholarship will not be content tc omit the Hebrew and
Christian Scriptures from its resources of culture. A
mind which is imbued with biblical learning has a home
in the future of literature, and among the majorities of
cultivated races, which no mind can have without it.
LECTURE XVI.
THE DEBT OF LIVING LITERATURES TO THE BIBLE. —
INTRINSIC SUPERIORITY OF BIBLICAL MODELS.
If the relation of the Scriptures to the future of
Oriental civilization should seem to be a distant motive
to biblical culture, let us observe one Avhich is more
immediate in its influence, in the fact that the Bible is,
to a large extent, incorporated into all the living litera-
tures of the world; not into all of them in equal
degrees, but into all sufficiently to be felt as a power.
When we speak of the literary sway of European and
American mind, we speak of the conquests of the Scrip-
tures. The elemental ideas of the Bible lie at the
foundation of the whole of it. Christianity has
wrought such revolutions of opinion, it has thrown into
the world so much original thought, it has organized so
many institutions, customs, unwritten laws of life, it
has leavened society with such a potent antiseptic to
the putrescent elements of depravity, and it has, there-
fore, created so much of the best material of humanity,
that now the noblest scholarship can not exist but as a
debtor to the Christian Scriptures.
The debt of literature to the Bible is like that of
vegetation to light. No other volume has contributed
so much to the great organic forms of thought. No
other IS fusing itself so widely into the standards of
238
LECT. XVI.] POWER OF THE BIBLE OVER MIND 239
libraries. Homer and Plato and Aristotle were long
since absorbed in it as intellectual powers. This vol-
ume has never yet numbered among its religious
believers a fourth part of the human race, yet it has
swayed a greater amount of mind than any other vol-
ume the world has known. It has the singular faculty
of attracting to itself the thinkers of the world, either
as friends or as foes, always, everywhere. The works
of comment upon it of themselves form a literature of
which any nation might be proud. It is more volumi-
nous than all that remains to us of the Greek and
Roman literatures combined. An English antiquarian,
who has had the curiosity to number the existing com-
mentaries upon the Scriptures, or upon portions of
them, found them to exceed sixty thousand. Where is
another empire of mind to be found like this ?
Here is a power, which, say what we may of its
results, has set the Christian world to thinking, and
has kept it thinking for nearly two thousand years.
The unpublished literature of the Christian pulpit sur-
passes in volume all the literatures of all nations. "• If
the sermons preached in our land during a single year
were all printed," says a living scholar, " they would
fill a hundred and twenty millions of octavo pages."
The Bible is read to-day by a larger number of edu-
cated minds than any othei book. The late revision of
the New Testament in our own language is not yet one
year old ; yet its circulation amounts to two millions
and a half of copies. This sale, unprecedented in the
history of any other volume, indicates an immense
reserve of interest in the book, which, till now, has had
no such means of expressing itself. The mind of the
English-speaking races must have been saturated with
240 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xvi.
biblical tliougbt, and to a great extent with bib'acal
faith, for a long time, to account for such a phenome-
non. Multitudes are poring over the book, and are
feeling its elevating influence, who never think of it
otherwise than as an authority for their religious faith.
Our own language owes, in part, the very structure
it has received to our English Bible. No Englishman
or American knows well his mother-tongue till he has
learned it in the vocabulary and the idioms of King
James's translation. The language first crystallized
around this translation as the German language did in
less degree around Luther's Bible. In English form
the Bible stands at the head of the streams of English
conquests and of English and American colonization
and commerce. It must control, to a great extent, the
institutions which are to spring up on the banks of
those streams the world over.
It is interesting to observe how the influence of the
Bible trickles down into crevices in all other litera-
ture, and shows itself, at length, in golden veins, and
precious gems of thought, which are the admiration of
all observers. The late Professor B. B. Edwards, in
illustration of this fact, notices the following details;
viz., " An essay has been written to prove how much
Shakspeare is indebted to the Scriptures. The Red
Cross Knight in the ' Faerie Queene ' of Spenser is
the Christian of the last chapter of the Epistle to the
Ephesians. The 'Messiah' of Pope is only a para-
phrase of some passages in Isaiah. The highest strains
of Cowper in the ' Task ' are an expansion of a chap-
ter of the same prophet. The 'Thanatopsis ' of Bryant
is indebted to a passage from the Book of Tob. Lord
Byron's celebrated poem on ' Darkness ' was founded
on a passage in Jeremiah."
LECT. xvi.l THE BIBLE IN MODERN POETRY 241
Worcsworth's criticism of Milton, that, "however
imbued the surface might be with classical literature,
he was a Hebrew in soul," is true of very much that is
most inspiring and most durable in our modern poetry.
Wordsworth's " Ode on Immortality " could never have
been written but for the creative effect upon the poet's
imagination of such Scriptures as the fifteenth chapter
of the First Epistle to the Corinthians and the eighth
chapter of the Epistle to the Romans. Pantheism has
a cool way of appropriating a great deal of Christian
poetry. Thus it claims Wordsworth. But the most
autobiographic passages in " The Excursion," descrip-
tive of the communion of his soul with nature, could
never have been conceived but by a mind which was
permeated by the inspiration of the One Hundred and
Forty-eighth Psalm.
" In such access of mind, in such high hour
Of visitation from the living God,"
is the language in which he himself describes that
communion.
Shakspeare's conception of woman is another illus-
tration to the same effect. De Quincey claims it as an
absolute original by no other genius than Shakspeare.
But in the last analysis Shakspeare's ideal is only
the Christian ideal, which suffuses with refinement our
modern life. We owe it ultimately, not to poetry, nor
to the drama, but to the biblical fact of the atonement.
Nothing else has made the conception possible of a
Desdemona or an Ophelia growing out of a sex de-
graded in all other than Christian literatures.
The hymnology of all modern languages has been
absolutely created by the Hebrew psalmody. The
242 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xvi.
ancient classics have not, so far as I know, contributed
a stanza to it. Not a line of it lives, through two
generations, in which the genius of the Psalms of
David does not overpower and appropriate all other
resources of culture. The old English and Scottish
ballads never exerted on the national mind a tithe of
the influence of the Hebrew psalm. The common-
wealth of England owed its existence, in part, to the
psalm-singing of Cromwell's armies. On the continent
of Europe, also, the whole bulk of the despotism of
the middle ages went down before the rude imitations
of the Hebrew psalmody by Clement Marot and Hans
Sachs. The battle-song of Gustavus Adolphus was
originally published with this title, " A Heart-cheering
Song of Comfort on the Watchword of the Evangelical
Army in the Battle of Leipsic, Sept. 7, 1631. God
with'^Us."
The Bible has also formed the best standards of de-
liberative eloquence in modern times. The Earl of
Chatham was sensible of his own indebtedness to it.
Patrick Henry and James Otis were often likened in
their lifetime to the Hebrew prophets. Lord Brougham
and Daniel Webster both acknowledged their obliga-
tions to the same models. Webster was for years the
biblical concordance of the United-States Senate. His
ablest opponents, in preparing their speeches, used to
resort to him to furnish them with scriptural passages
and metaphors to point their weapons against him.
Such was his command of the same resources, that
he could afford to give them liberally, and without
upbraiding.
To all departments of modern literature the Scrip-
tures have been what they have been to modern art.
LECT. XVI.] THE BIBLE IN INFIDEL WRITINGS. 245
It lias been said that the single Christian conc(,ption
of a virgin and her child has done more for the eleva-
tion of art than all the exhumed models of Greece and
Rome. It is a well-known fact that nothing in art
itself succeeded in crushing out the moral abomina-
tions which many of those models expressed until the
Christian religion flooded the whole realm of beauty
with more intense ideas; so that, to the purest taste,
the Greek Venus has become imbecile by the side of
the Christian Madonna. So are the literary models
of the Scriptures working, as germs of power in modern
literature, beyond the depth of Greek and Roman
thought in its choicest and most durable forms.
I will name but one other form in which the obliga-
tions of modern literature to the Scriptures is illus-
trated : it is that of the unconscious debt of infidelity
to biblical resources. The infidel literature of our
times owes nearly all the vitality it has to its pilferings
of Christian nutriment. It lives by its unconscious
suction from Christian fountains. " The Cotter's Sat-
urday Night " is not more palpably indebted to the
Scriptures than are some of the finest passages in
Shelley's "Queen Mab." The "Paradise Lost"' and
the " Pilgrim's Progress " are not more really the out-
growth of the old Hebrew soul than are some of the
sublimest conceptions of Lord B^Ton's " Cain." Xo
man could have written " Cain " or " Queen Mab "'
whose genius had not been developed by a Christian
civilization, and w^hose infidelity had not been fired by
collision with the Epistle to the Romans. The power
to he so blasphemous grew out of Christian knowledge ;
and the power to express the blasphemy with such
lurid grandeur sprang from the culture which Chiis-
tianitv had created.
244 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xvi
The atheism of Great Britain, which is working so
disastrously among the artisan chisses of the kingdom,
owes its chief resources of power over the popular
mind to the fact that it holds on to so much of scrip-
tural thought. Its capital ideas are biblical ideas.
Strip it of these, and it would have no chance of a
hearing in the workshops of Birmingham. What else
than Christianity ever gave to the human conscience
spring enough to enable it to conceive of such a thing
as a practical religion without a God? Yet this is
English atheism to-day. It is not vice ; it is not con-
scious blasphemy; it is not moral nihilism: it is an
aim at morality, moral culture, moral principle, moral
progress, even moral worship, after its kind, — all which
it audaciously proposes to support without a God for
the center of the moral instincts. When did the hu-
man soul ever before get force enough of moral instincts
to conceive of such a project as that ?
Similar to the lesson taught by the atheism of Great
Britain is that taught by the most powerful phases of
infidelity in this country. It would be entertaining,
if it were not too painfully solemn, to observe the
depth to which Christian thought has penetrated, and
the extent to which Christian colorings of speech have
suffused the culture exhibited by the most brilliant of
the infidel lecturers and writers among us. Mark it
anywhere, — on the platform, in the newspapers, in
magazines, in books: the materials of thought which
these men are wielding, to the saddest hurt of an un-
thinking faith, are at bottom Christian products. No
other class of literary men are so profoundly indebted
to the Scriptures, yet so profoundly oblivious ")f the
debt.
LECT. XVI.] THEODORE PARKER. 245
Open one of their books, turn to its most captivating
pages, sift its style, weigh its thought; and what clo
you find of good sterling worth? Wherever you find
clear ideas held in honest Saxon grip, you find them
vitalized by something or other which they owe to
Christianity. Here it is a truth as old as Moses ; tliere
it is the power to conceive of the opposite of a truth :
again it is an antithesis of half-truths ; farther on it is
a dislocated quotation, or a warped and twisted allu-
sion : now it is a fungus overgrowing a germ of truth
which gives it its power to grow ; then it is a Pantheis-
tic turn to language which Pantheism never originated,
but which, in its original. Christian souls love. Even
down to the indefinable ingenuities of style, you find
at work the alert and sinewy fingers of a Christian
culture. The very sentences which express or imply
semi-Paganism in theology, but the structure of which
makes them play in the very heavens of beauty like
the coruscations of the northern-lights, are, as speci-
mens of style, the product of our Oriental yet Saxon
Bible. Are Confucius, Zoroaster, Socrates, at the root
of the thoughts and the forms which you feel in such
pages ? No : it is Moses ; it is Isaiah ; it is David ; it
is St. John ; it is Christ. Take away the elements of
culture which these have contributed to such literature,
and no man would care what heroes or philosophers
might claim the residuum.
The most striking illustration, in my judgment, which
has exhibited the truth of the fact before us in our
own country, is that given by the Rev. Theodore
Parker. For twenty years the most vital infidelity in
this land was personified in him. He brought to tho
solitary altar at which he ministered in Boston a gen-
246 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xvl
erous scholarship, a mercurial genius^ a versatile com-
mand of thought, and a fascinating style. Taking
him all in all, his was a more earnest character than
that of any other man who has gained any thing like
equal eminence in the ranks of active hostility to what
he called "the popular theology of New England."
The purity of his life was almost ascetic. For one, I
a n compelled to concede the power of the man in his
lifetime, whatever may be true of it now. I do not
think that any candid man among us who knows the
classes of mind which were reached, and the momentum
given to them, for twenty years, from that Twenty-
eighth Congregational pulpit, will feel, that, as a friend
of truth, he can afford to ignore that power, or to
underrate it.
But it was not the power of his infidelity: it was
the power of his unconscious obligations to truth. His
vital and vitalizing ideas were Christian ideas. He
owed them to the Book which he disowned. He drank
them in from all the living literatures which he mas-
tered. He maligned religion as we conceive of it.
He ridiculed Scriptures which to us are sacred. He
denounced as barbaric the ground-work of our hope of
heaven. He scoffed at our ideal of a Redeemer. He
uttered words which from our lips would be blasphemy.
Yet the interior forces which bore up as on an oceanic
ground-swell this mass of error were forces every one
of which sprung from that ocean of inspired thought
whose great deeps were broken up in the civilization
around him.
What were some of those forces? In what ideas
did they find their origin ? They were such as these :
She fatherhood of God, the unity of the human brother-
LECT. XVI.] INSPIRATION AND LITERARY MERIT. 247
hood before God, the dignity of manhood, the inten-
sity of life as the prelude to immortality, and, more
than all else, the application of these ideas to social
and national reforms. These were the forces which
he wielded. Without them the world would not have
heard of him. Yet these are, every one of them, bib-
lical forces. He owed them to the Christian Scrip-
tures; and he owed the susceptibility to them in the
popular mind on which he worked so disastrously to
that interpretation of the Scriptures which has ex-
pressed itself in our New-England theology. Thus it
is with every development of infidelity which has force
enough to make it respectable. It feeds on Christianity
itself, and grows lusty therefore.
To the views thus far advanced respecting the lit-
erary claims of the Bible should be added the fact that
the Bible contains within itself models of thought and
expression which are intrinsically superior to other
literature. What do we mean when we speak of the
literary pre-eminence of the Scriptures ? This involves
two inquiries.
The first is. What is the bearing of inspiration on
literary merit? I answer. It is not such that pre-
eminence in literary forms follows from inspiration as
a thing of course. Inspiration does not save from
literary defects even. It does not necessitate uniform
excellence in taste, the most perfect conciseness, force,
purity, precision, beauty, of style. It does not even
protect against false syntax. The Scriptures are open
to criticism in these respects, like any other book. It is
in the substance and the spirit of the volume chiefly,
that its supremacy appears. Literary defects arise
necessarily from the freedom of the inspired mind.
248 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xvi.
In the laws of inspiration God has exercised the same
care for human freedom that is displayed in all other
divine adjustments. So jealous is the divine mind of
the integrity of that inclosure within which a human
mind is itself a creator^ that, even in the anomaly of
inspiration, the human mind is not automatic. In the
process of constructing a revelation the inspired mind
is left to act out itself. A human coloring suffuses
the material of the inspired production, because a free,
self-acting will is concerned in it. Hence come literary
defects.
The central fact in this matter is, that, in the inspired
record, God has secured the best literary forms possible
to the instruments he chose to work with. He has
inspired St. Paul to write as well as, under the condi-
tions of his work, St. Paul could write. He has in-
spired David and Isaiah to speak as well as, under the
conditions existing, they could speak. In neither case
has he taken from the man his identity. It is no
irreverence, therefore, it is only a recognition of the
divine plan of procedure, to say that the Bible makes
no claim to immaculate excellence in classic forms.
Again : a pretended revelation, of scholastic origin,
would have been very apt to claim absolute perfection.
Mahomet did this for the Koran : Jewish bibliolatry
did this for the Pentateuch. It is an incidental sign
of the divine origin of the Scriptures, that they never
do this for themselves. The Scriptures, therefore, come
to us in forms of very unequal literary merit. They
resemble in this the works of uninspired genius. Ge-
nius elsewhere never claims perfection. It never thinks
of its own work as literature. It throws itself into
its creations with self-abandonment. In its noblest
LECT. XVI.] BIBLICAL INTENSITY. 249
works it is unconscious of its nobility. The very inten-
sity of its conceptions creates defects when crowded
into human language. So it is with inspiration acting
through the agency of a human mind : if the Scrip-
tures did not exhibit these diversities, the strongest
possible philosophical argument would be established
that they are not the work of the men who profess to
be their authors.
The second of the two inquiries suggested is, What
are the things in which the Bible does exhibit the
superiority claimed for it ? You will readily recall
them. I name them only to give definiteness to them
as excellences in literature, and not as moral virtues
alone, involved vaguely in the gift of inspiration, and
therefore outside of our scholarly regard.
The fidelity of the Bible to the loftiest ideals which
the human mind can form of truth and purity is a
literary excellence. It is a requisition of good taste,
as well as of the moral instincts. That the Scriptures
utter no falsehood, minister to no vice, truckle to no
conventional corruption, do not ignore the moral affin-
ities of the intellect, never confound moral rectitude
with beauty, but, in a word, subordinate intellectual
to moral integrity, — these are exponents of literary
dignity which the cultured taste of the world must
sooner or later learn to esteem as it does not now.
They would give to any other literature a dignity
which would command the admiration of all scholarly
minds.
The iyitensity of the biblical style of thought is a
literary excellence. Contrast tlxis with the immense
amount of frivolous and aimless thought in all other
literature. Inspiration ne ver trifles, never dallies with
250 MEN AND BOOKS. [lj:ct xvi.
truth, never sports with "the eternities," never per-
petrates a pun, never fawns upon great men, never
flatters woman, never deals in comedy, never created
such a character as that of Shakspeare's " Falstaff," or
the universal clown of the modern stage. As a collec-
tion of literary productions, the Scriptures look inward
to a great central tragedy. An intellectual intensity,
therefore, broods over them, which is altogether unique.
Those portions of Shakspeare's dramas which exhibit
the same quality are those on which, mainly, his fame
rests. In him we do not restrict it as a quality of form
only: it is the very substance of all that we admire
in a great tragic poem. The same is true of it as a
quality of biblical thought.
The originality of biblical thought is a literary excel
lence. This we can not appreciate till we throw our
minds back of the Scriptures themselves, back of the
whole intellectual training for which we are indebted
to them, and think of the mass of novel truth which
the Bible has given to the world, and the mass of pre-
extant truth which it has freshened and vitalized. Con-
trast it with the paucity of ideas in Homer, and are
you not sensible of the magnitude of the one and the
littleness of the other? If the Greek mind had had a
volume containing such a mass of ideas before unknown
and inconceivable, temples would have been built for
its teaching as the gift of immortal gods.
As the fruit of its originality, in part, the aptness of
the Bible to germinate in uninspired literature is a lit-
erary virtue. Regarded as a fertilizing power to other
products of the human mind, no other volume can be
compared with it. It is marvelously reproductive of
kindred thought. The germs of epic poems, of systems
LEOT. XVI.] THE BIBLE AND LIBERTY. 251
of philosophy, of political constitutions, and of the
eloquence which sways nations in crises of history, are
the common thoughts of the inspired authors. The
seeds of such culture as that which effloresces in a
Milton, a Bacon, a Chatham, a Burke, are here ideas
thrown out by men speaking, as if on the spur of the
moment, in friendly letters, in talks, to unlettered
minds and to children.
The sympathy of the Scriptures with human liberty
is an excellence, which, in equal degree, would redu-
plicate to the echo the fame of any other literature in
the world. History is largely made up of struggles
for freedom. Free thought, free speech, a free press,
free soil, free men, free government, are the objects for
and against which the great conflicts of the race have
been waged. Much of the scholarly thought of the
world has been committed to the service of autocratic
and aristocratic privilege. Authors have been, to a
considerable extent, the retainers of noblemen. Some-
times they have been, like Horace, the slaves of feudal
superiors. Against the main drift of national litera-
tures the liberty of man has often been compelled to
contend for its existence. Some of the living stand-
ards in our libraries to-day are the product of a muz-
zled press.
Not a trace of sympathy with such a condition of
things is found in the literature of the Bible. The
bent of its genius is all on the side of those institu-
tions for which free men have fought, and women have
suffered. The Bible is pre-eminently the manual of
liberty. Those words which have been the watchwords
of sanguinary revolutions for the deliverance of nations
from oppression express tJie favorite ideas of biblical
252 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xvi
jurisprudence and song and prophecy. That rulers
exist for the people ; that the poor are in law the
peers of the rich, and the ignorant, of the wise ; that
mankind are one brotherhood, with equal claims upon
the fatherhood of God and the fraternity of each other,
— are the familiar and central thoughts of biblical
poets, historians, lawgivers, prophets, and apostles.
The whole strain of the volume is one long protest
against the oppressor, and one perpetual song of cheer
to the slave. No other literature is in this respect so
uncompromising and so self-consistent. It is an incen-
diary volume to slaveholders everywhere. Popes place
it at the head of the list of books anathematized.
Yet, on the other hand, the Bible is equally the
manual of temperate and bloodless reform. It gives no
place to the malign emotions in warfare against oppres-
sion. Fanatics expurgate and denounce it no less
bitterly than tyrants. It tolerates wrong, and incul-
cates long-suffering, rather than to invite convulsive
revolutions. It trusts to time, and the omnipotence of
truth, for the emancipation of mankind. It subordi-
nates civil to spiritual liberty, — a thing which fanatical
reform has never done, and for the want of which it
has always failed. If the spirit of biblical literature
had held sway in history, there would never have been
a servile war, never would a race or a nation have
been emancipated by the sword. Yet the cause of
human liberty would have been centuries in advance
of its condition to-day. The equipoise of opposing
truths, and the consequent smoothness and stillness of
beneficent revolutions, are characteristic of biblical
thought as opposed to the eternal war-song of all other
literature. The ultimate culture of the world will
LECT. XYi.] BIBLICAL STYLES. 253
transpose the passive and the active virtues in its
literary judgments.
The symmetry of the biblical system of truth is a
literary excellence. With no system in form, it is
everywhere suggestive of system in fact. The biblical
scholar degrades his own work who discerns in the
Bible no implications of a self-consistent structure of
theology. It is in this respect what every man's real
life is, — a plan of God. Every thing in it fits every
other thing. What other literature not founded upon
it has such balancing of opposite truths, such adjust-
ments of the relations of truth, such diversity in unity,
such unity in diversity, such a grand march of progress
in the evolution of truth ? In one sense the Bible is
a fragment, made up of fragments ; but it is fragmen-
tary as the segment of a circle is fragmentary.
The number and diversity of literary styles in the
Scriptures deserve mention. Although immaculate
form is not one of their claims, yet incidentally to
their loftiness of thought, and purity of character,
excellence of form often appears as if by spontaneous
creation. The style of some portions of the Epistles,
art has never tried to improve. Who has ever thought
to improve the form of the Beatitudes or the Lord's
Prayer? What reformer or censor of public morals
has ever attempted to improve the style of some of the
Hebrew prophets? The narrative style of the evan-
gelists, the lyric poetry of the Psalms, the epic grandeur
of the Book of Job — what adventurous critic has
ever assumed to equal these? They are as nearly
perfect as human language permits. Poetic, didactic,
philosophic, narrative, illustrative, allegorical, episto-
lary, dramatic, oratorical, prophetic, styles are all
'2M MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xvi.
illustrated in the Bible by specimens of the first
order of merit.
As the sequence of some of the foregoing qualities,
a certain power in the literature of the Bible to project
itself into the future is worthy of remark. The mate-
rials of extant literatures may in one view be classified
as literatures of the past and literatures of the future.
Some standards of our libraries are only monuments.
We admire them, but we never use them. Practically
the world has done with them. To high culture the
study of them has become a recreation only. They are
receding from the earnest life of the world more and
more distantly with every generation.
The Bible, as a literary power, is no such monu-
mental structure. Though the oldest, it is still the
freshest, literature extant. Covering all the past, it
reaches over a longer and grander future. A favorite
idea of critics is that of the immortality of literature.
The Bible is the only volume which is sure of that.
The future belongs to it as to nothing else wliich the
world now reveres in libraries. Its own prophecies are
a fair symbol of the prospective vision which illumines
it, and assures to it an undying youth.
Such are some of the salient points definitive of our
conceptions of the Bible as a literary classic. The
majority of them occur to our thought first and most
positively as moral excellences only; but good taste
approves them as well. The affinities between our
intellectual and our moral nature are such, that to
ignore either involves deterioration of the other. An
eminent English critic says that Lord Byron, in the
lack of a keen conscience, suffered the lack of the
first quality necessary to a true poet. A more subtle
LECT. XVI.] MORAL AND LITERARY VIRTUES. 255
illustration of the same kind of aflSnity is seen in the
power of a lofty morality to elevate the very vocabu-
lary of a language, and the opposite power of degraded
morals to degrade a language also. On the same prin-
ciple, certain qualities in the Bible which first strike us
as moral qualities only, we claim as literary virtues
as well. They augment immensely the power of the
volume as an educating force in the discipline of a
scholarly mind. I do not dwell upon them at greater
length, because they are familiar ; and to expand them
might easily degenerate into unmeaning eulogy.
LECTURE XVII.
THE PEOFESSIONAL VALUE OF BIBLICAL MODELS TO
A PKEACHER.
The claims of biblical study upon a pastor would
be but incompletely treated, if no mention were made
of its direct professional service. No other single prin-
ciple of success in the work of the pulpit surpasses
this, of its dependence on the models of the Bible as
guides to both the theory and practice of preaching.
Every careful student of theology discovers the dis-
tinction between truth as it appears in uninspired forms
of statement, and the same truth as it appears in the
biblical forms. It is not cliiefly the forms which attract
us in the Scriptures : it is the truth itself, qualified and
assisted by the relations in wliich it is uttered, by its
antecedents and consequents in the biblical collocation
of materials, by the objects for which it is spoken, by
the illustrative elements by which it is pictured, by
the frequency with which it is repeated, bj the atmos-
phere which is thrown around it by the religious
feeling of the writer, and by the moral authority
which it derives from the reader's faith in its inspi-
ration. These often change, by refraction, the per-
spective in which the truth is seen. It is a vast
variety of such things which makes truth appear truth-
ful in the biblical conception and statement of it. It
256
LECT, XVII.] HISTORIC CREEDS. 257
pul 5 on a different look when taken out of the locality
in which inspiration has adjusted it to its inspired pur-
pose. In a word, truth in the Scriptures seems to have
been livedo not said only. A soul breathes in it which
speaks as never man spake. The same qualities in
tlie biblical representations of truth which give to an
unlettered reader a spiritual quickening give to a
preacher a kind of culture which is a powerful aux-
iliary to his intellectual preparation for professional
service. No man needs that culture more.
For the sake of definiteness of conception on this
topic, let us follow it in an excursus from the main
subject upon the contrast between the ultimate impres-
sion of certain truths in the biblical teaching, and that
of the same truths in the forms of science and in a
certain class of sermons.
Our systems of theology do an invaluable service to
a preacher. No man can preach the Bible truthfully,
who does not preach it with fidelity to a system of
truth which pervades it. If we preach it in methods
which are reckless of an underlying system, we are
sure to derive from it extremes of truth which are not
truthful. The best biblical preaching, therefore, is the
best theological preaching. The contemptuous treat-
ment of dogmatic theology, sometimes heard from men
of pettifogging scholarship, does not deserve refutation.
Still our theological systems, as represented in the
great historic creeds, are all of them polemic in their
origin. They have a belligerent look ; they are skele-
tons in coats of mail. They have been formed in times
when some one truth, or class of truths, was believed to
be in peril : they have, therefore, an outlook in some
directions more eager and defiant than in others. The
258 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xvn.
majority of them are compromises, in which contending
parties placed each its own construction upon ambigu-
ous language. Therefore, to a later age, they often bear
the look of contradiction.
This is specially noticeable in the drift of our most
scholarly confessions upon doctrines which involve the
freedom of the human will. On this subject, truth has
been of slow and toilsome growth. She has crept and
limped up the great highway of human opinion. "With
a great sum " have we " obtained this freedom." Pagan
theology everywhere has been saturated to the point of
stupor with fatalism. The early Christian thought was
drugged with the same poison. The clear enunciation
of the liberty of the human will, and of the theological
corollaries from it, has been, in the main, the product
of the Christian thinking of the last two hundred years.
We owe it largely to the political and civil history of
the Netherlands.
Many of the historic creeds of Christendom, there-
fore, are wofully disproportioned on this class of doc-
trines. In some of them, these doctrines are set over
against their related truths in language which gives to
both classes the look of contradictions. They are
stated on the principle of the Duke of Wellington, that
" the way to solve contradictions is to affirm both sides
stoutly." But more frequently these correlated truths
are so stated as to depress the fact of human freedom.
Divine sovereignty is emphasized ; human responsibility
is mumbled. The doctrine of decrees is thundered;
that of man's ability is whispered. In all that renders
God august and terrible the sound is the blast of a
trumpet; in all that should quicken man's conscious-
ness of moral dignity and duty the voice is but the
f cho of an echo.
LEcr. xviT.] BIBLICAL THEOLOGY. 259
As monuments of historic theology, the great creeds
of the church are all the more valuable for being just
what they are. They mark the struggling faith of
believers from theologic infancy upward. We study
them with much of the same interest with which one
would study the Pinakothek and Glyptothek of Munich,
in which is represented the complete history of paint-
ing and sculpture. It is no strange thing that they are
often illogical, and very far from self-consistent. This
is inevitable in the structure of any document which
must express the convictions of many independent
minds. Macaulay says that " some of the most useful
political instruments in the world are among the most
illogical compositions ever penned." The same is true
of some religious creeds. It grows out of the nature
of compromise, in which, from the necessities of the case,
the creeds of historic importance have been framed.
Compromise of great and sincere beliefs borders hard
on contradiction. All honor, then, to these monumen-
tal structures of our faith. They have done for the
church all that they were ever meant to do.
But who of us have not been sensible of a more power-
ful educating force emanating from the same truths, as
they are expressed for a moral purpose, in their biblical
forms? It seems as if the human mind, in direct con-
verse with the thought of the Infinite Mind, can not
obtain its most formative conceptions of truth, except
through the medium of moral sensibilities and a moral
aim. Hence it is that we experience such a supreme
educating power in the writings of the Hebrew seers,
and of the apostles, and in the discourses of our Lord.
Are we not sensible often that a doctrine of ou * faith
in even a masterly theologic treatise is a different thing
•260 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xyii.
from the same doctrine in the Bible ? It makes a dif-
ferent impression. It may be stated with such refined
analysis and with s ich exactest choice of speech, and
set in the frame of a system so symmetrical, that you
feel unable to add to it or subtract from it as a theo-
logic formula ; yet, in the whole treatise built upon it,
it has a different ring from that given by the apostles
with the same instrument. It leaves a different reso-
nance in the ear. It starts a different quivering of the
sensibilities.
Sermons are sometimes constructed after the model
of scientific theological treatises, and therefore exhibit
the same contrast with biblical teachings. Have you
not listened to discourses on eternal punishment, to
the theory of which you could not urge valid objec-
tion, but which produced a totally different impression
from that of the blended sternness and benignity of
the teachings of our Lord? Where do the Scriptures
authorize such a final impression of the doctrine as
that of President Edwards's sermon on the text, " Their
feet shall slide in due time " ? Who ever derived from
the Bible such merciless conceptions on the subject,
couched in such relentless forms of statement, as are
found in some of the sermons of Mr. Spurgeon ?
Have you not heard discourses on the sovereignty
of God, and responsibility of man, not a paragraph of
which 3^ou would erase as in itself untrue, which yet
left an impression unlike that of the ninth chapter of
the Epistle to the Romans, interlined with the eigh-
teenth chapter of Ezekiel? Who ever received from the
Bible the idea which is embossed on so many brazen
sermons, that God's sovereignty is sheer will, almighty
will asserting its almightiness ? and, on the other hand.
LECT. xvn.] PREACHING ON THE ATONEMENT. 261
that human freedom is an omnipotence of will which
God is impotent to control? Where in the Scriptures is
the thought ever uttered or painted, even in the wild-
ness of Oriental hyperbole, which was declared by one
of our American preachers, that, " in the repentance of
a sinner, man is the giant, and God is but an infant " ?
Have you never listened to preaching on the doctrine
of the atonement, to which you could not object that
any single statement was untrue, but which still you
felt to be, in its ultimate impression, out of sympathy
with the Epistle to the Hebrews ? Who ever received
from the scriptural imagery of Christ's relation to the
Father in the work of atonement, that conception of
the Father's vengeance which Dr. Watts has versified
in a stanza, which, if it had been sung of the Greek
Nemesis, would have surpassed any equal number of
lines in Homer ? —
" Rich were the drops of Jesus' blood
Which calmed his frowning face,
Which sprinkled o'er the burning throne,
And turned the wrath to grace."
Our inherited type of preaching on the doctrine of
sin is unscriptural in this respect, that it starts with
the idea of the mercilessness of a holy God. It assumes
that forgiveness is not the original and spontaneous
action of the Divine Mind. Such is the nature of sin,
that the primary notion must be, in a holy mind, that
it can not be forgiven. This is the idea which is
wrought into the most profound discussions of Pagan
tneology. It is the very life of the Greek idea of fate.
It was the finality of the theology of Socrates. The
same conception pervades much of the later literature
262 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xvn.
of the world. Turn to one of its latest and most origi-
nal productions, — Hawthorne's "Marble Faun." You
find this notion of the implacableness of innocence
towards the guilty in his appalling picture of the rela-
tions of Hilda and Miriam. Hilda the pure, and
Miriam the fallen — an impassable gulf yawns between
them, which eternity can never bridge over. The fallen
one stands doomed to an "infinite, shivering solitude,"
in which she can not come " close enough " even " to
human beings to be warmed by them." " Standing on
the utmost verge of that dark chasm, she might stretch
out her hand, and never clasp a hand of theirs. She
might strive to call out, ' Help, friends, help ! ' but, as
with dreamers when they shout, her voice would perish
inaudibly in the remoteness that seemed such a little
way."
This notion has often congealed the heart of the
pulpit. Therefore, in preaching even on the doctrine
of the atonement, we have failed to represent the spon-
taneousness of the love of God as the Scriptures do.
We have fettered it with limitations. We have quali-
fied it by elections. We have obscured it by figures of
bargain and sale. We have counted the elect as if
there were danger that too many souls should be ran-
somed by the price paid. The inevitable impression on
the common mind has been, that the love of God in
redemption acts under repression, and with divided or
wavering purpose. All this is just what the Scriptures
do not teach in their expression of the love of God in
the atoning work. There all is free and whole-souled.
The way to the heart of God is wide open. There is
no conflict in the mind of Godhead. No antagonism
of nature or of purpose separates God from Chriw^t.
LECT. xvir.] THE SWEDISH CATECHISM. 263
God gives his Son; Christ gives himself: the purpose
oi redeeming love is original with both, ^tod, above
all other beings in the universe, is a sinner's friend ;
the whole Godhead is a sinner's friend. A preacher
comes into a different atmosphere from that of the
religion of nature, as soon as his mind takes in the
unbroken strain of the responses which the Scriptures
make to the inquiry " What must I do to be saved ? "
So of any doctrine which has been hotly contested
in the schools. How few discussions of such a doctrine
are there, which a Christian heart, when in the most
filial communion with God, and reverent fellowship with
Christ, feels to be honestly and artlessl}^ truthful to the
Scriptures as a whole, breathing the same spirit, and
leaving the same impression, without abatement and
without hyperbole !
You will recognize, therefore, the pertinence of the
injunction, that a preacher needs to imbibe the spirit of
the biblical models as an addition to, yet distinct from,
that of the theologic models. I say, " an addition to "
these, not in abrogation of them ; because theologic
science must do, and has magnificently done, a work /or
the pulpit which can not be brought into the pulpit.
We must study philosophic truth in its exactness for
the purpose of concinnity of faith, and then we must
come back and drink in the spirit of the same truth in
its inspired artlessness of form for the purposes of
preaching.
Some striking information to the point here is found
in an account, published a few years ago, of the reli-
gious state of Sweden. It appears that it was a feature
in the organic law of Sweden, that the schools should
teach all the youth of the kingdom the Lutheran Cate
264 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xvn.
cliism: as the Swedish pastors termed it, the schools
should "teach religion" to the children. Accordingly,
every Swedish child of suitable age was " taught reli-
gion" by catechetical drill supervised by the pastor
of his parish. Probably there was not then, if there
is now, another country on the globe where this duty
was so scrupulously attended to as there. But, at the
time referred to, the complaint was universal among
the clergy and the thoughtful laity of Sweden, that the
vitality of the old faith was dying out. In hundreds
of parishes the youth droned through the Catechism as
a necessity to their civil standing in after-life ; but the
ancient faith no longer breathed in the ancient form.
Side by side with this admirably compacted system
of catechetical routine, there sprang up an obscure sect
of " Lascari," as they were termed ; that is, " readers,"
as I understand the title. They resembled in spirit
the Methodists of England. They derived their name
from the fact that their religious teachers, with no
ecclesiastical status recognized by either Church or
State, were simply readers of the Bible. They erected
plain meeting-houses, like barns, to evade the laws of
the realm against the unlicensed erection of churches.
The people forsook the old temples of their fathers, and
flocked in thousands to the cheerless barns of the
Lascari, to hear the Bible read. The clergy stood
upon their dignity. They scolded the people from
their pulpits. The entire respectability of the kingdom
frowned upon the innovation. But still the people
thronged the meeting 3 of the "Readers." Again they
repeated the old sto y of Christian reform, — that, as
Dr. Chalmers said, Christianity is not a power of
respectability only, but a power of regeneration.
LECT. XVII.] ROMISH THEOLOGIANS. 265
Awakened men and women from far and near came
together to hear the voice whicli had raised them as
from the dead. Some of them journeyed from ten to
sixty miles for the purpose. Many gave evidence of
spiritual conversion. The traveler who published the
account in this country expressed the opinion that
the hope of Protestantism in Sweden was no longer in
the old church of Gustavus Adolphus : it was in the
despised Lascari.
The providence of God teaches a significant lesson
to the pulpit by such a social phenomenon as this. It
is, that to the popular heart there is no other preaching
like that which is baptized in the fountains of inspired
thought and feeling. The pulpit which is built upon
the soundest platform of systematic divinity, and that
only^ goes down before the living man who invites men
to listen to the words of God. It is true no man can
build up in the popular faith the best ideal of Christian
truth, who has not mastered systematic theology in its
most scholarly forms ; but it is equally true that no
man can build that ideal who has studied truth in those
forms alone.
This view is confirmed by an acknowledgment which
Orestes A. Brownson has made respecting the catena of
Roman-Catholic theologians. He says, " The fathers
studied and expounded the Scriptures, and they were
the strong men, the great men, the heroes of their
times. The mediaeval doctors studied, systematized,
and epitomized the fathers ; and they, though still
great, fell below those who were formed by the study
of the Scriptures themselves. The theologians fol-
lowed, and gave compendiums of the doctors, and fell
still lower. Modern professors content themselves witli
266 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xvii.
giving compendiums of the compendiums gi ren by the
theologians, and have fallen as low as possible without
falling into nothing, and disappearing in the inane."
This would be a libel, if affirmed of the brilliant suc-
cession of Protestant scholars who have represented
the progressive theological thought of the last three
centuries. It is specially untrue of those of our own
country. But of the Romish schools it expresses, from
one who may be accepted as an authority, the tendency
to a deterioration of culture which will be always
found where theological science has been divorced from
a study of the Scriptures.
This tendenc}^ is sometimes witnessed in the pulpit,
when dogmatic theology is allowed to monopolize its
ministrations. Then logic tyrannizes over rhetoric.
Theological system overbears homiletic variety and the
adaptations of suasive speech. In confirmation of this,
it deserves to be noted that the most cumbrous and
least profitable kind of serial preaching, unless it be
executed by a man of rare power in popularizing ab-
stract thought, is that in which a series of sermons is
founded upon the church creed. That was a deserved
rebuke which a pastor in Boston once received, when,
in the midst of such a series on the Catechism, a dele-
gation from his sabbath school waited upon him to
inform him that a religious awakening was in progress
in the Bible classes, and that they needed other instruc-
tion than that which he was giving them ; not other
truths, but in other and more versatile forms.
This fact suggests another, that no other proportions
of truth tally so well with the purest type of reviva?s
of religion as the proportions found in the Scriptures.
I can not but regard some kind of sevei^ance of truth
LECT. XVII.] HYSTERIA IN REVIVALS. 267
from the biblical ways of putting it as one reason of
the pathological affections Avhich have brought revivals
into discredit among thinking men. I refer to the
whole class of phenomena which medical science would
classify under the titles of hysteria and catalepsy. An
epidemic of them at the West, many years ago, received
the popular name of " the jerks." Something resembling
St. Vitus's dance attacked perfectly able-bodied men
under the tempestuous preaching of the time. Athletio
men from the backwoods of Kentucky, who sought the
Presbyterian camp-meetings with angry challenge of
"the jerks," were thrown to the ground before the
sermon was half finished, and wallowed there till they
were borne out into the air, swearing that " the devil
was in it." Probably in some sense he was. But no
such phenomena are recorded as attending apostolic
preaching, except those which are expressly ascribed to
miraculous gifts. Biblical truth in biblical proportions
tends always to a certain equipoise of effects. The
whole man is reached by it. It produces a quickening
of so many and such varied sensibilities, that each
balances another. Opposites limit and regulate each
other. Paroxysmal excitement is impossible. " Peace
I leave with you" is the message which symbolizes the
spiritual economy in the working of biblical truth in
its biblical adjustments.
To the views thus far presented, I would add, if the
time would permit, a more extended notice of one other
topic which I will now name, with only a synopsis of
the train of thought which it suggests. It is that the
study of the Bible as a literary classic has a tendency
to blend scholarship with Christian sensibility in such
proportions as to render each a help to the other in the
268 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. x\n
growtli of character. The prominent thov.ghts on this
topic are the following ; viz., the difficulty which Chris-
tian scholars often experience in harmonizing in their
own character accomplished scholarship and religious
faith ; the fact that the ministry contains men of reli-
gious ardor but imperfectly regulated by scholarly dis-
cipline ; the opposite fact, that it contains also men of
superior scholarship, who sympathize but feebly with
the popular developments of religious fervor ; the fact
that historically these two elements of character are
actively combined in the most vigorous periods in the
life of the church, and signally so in the most useful
men ; the fact that disaster always follows any marked
and prolonged disproportion between them in the ad-
ministration of the pulpit ; the fact that no other clerical
study is so healthfully regulative in this respect as
that of the literary models of the Scriptures; and the
fact that a biblical discipline of piety thus blended
with scholarly culture will work its own way to the
most essential principles of art in public speech.
LECTURE XVIII.
METHODS OF LITER AEY STUDY. — PRELIM fNARIES. —i
CRITICAL READING. — PHILOSOPHICAL METHOD. —
DIVISION OF LABOR.
3d, Having thus far, in our discussion of a pastor's
literary studies, considered the objects of the study and
the selection of authors, we now proceed to observe
the methods of literary study by a pastor.
It is necessary here, at the expense of repetition, to
recall and re-apply the two preliminaries which were
named at the outset of our discussion of the selection
of authors; viz., that the principles bearing upon the
subject must in practice qualify each other, any one
of them by itself constituting an impracticable basis
of culture ; and that, even with this qualification, the
principles collectively constitute at the best only a
theoretic ideal of study.
These preliminaries are even more significantly true
of methods of study than of the selection of authors.
No one principle can have a monopoly. All combined
give us only an ideal : the realization of it is a matter
of degrees. A nearer approach to it is practicable in
some cases than in others; but in all cases it is of
value to have it as an ideal. It is worth much to
know what is scholarly reading. If it is but partially
practicable to a man, it is worth something to him to
269
270 MElf AND BOOKS. [iect. xvm.
know that; to be able, therefore, to adjust his plans
to that. It is worth much to save time and force
from useless struggles, and specially to save himself
from the narrowness of underrating a high ideal, be-
cause he has tried it, and found it impracticable. I
repeat, therefore, that these preliminaries are more
necessary as qualifications of the principles we are
now about to consider than of those named respecting
the selection of authors.
1. Bearing them in mind, let us observe, that the
ideal of scholarly reading is critical reading. Here,
again, the distinction between reading and study is
elemental. It lies at the foundation of the whole
business. In mere reading the mind is passive: in
study the mind works. In reading we drift : in study
we row.
If Professor Stuart in his prime had been asked how
many hours in a day he studied, he would have said,
" Three and a half." But he spent at his study-table
ten, often twelve, hours. Such was the difference in
his estimate between study and reading. A young
man wrote to me not long ago that he was studying
fourteen hours a day. From my knowledge of his
temperament and habits, and from the fact that he
adds that he is " growing fat upon it," I doubt whether
he is studying two hours in a day. A man does not
grow fat upon fourteen hours of study in a day.
Critical reading establishes acquaintance with an
author. It discloses also the very process of his lit-
erary work. Every author's work is a panorama of
his mental processes to one who has the ( ritical insight
by which to discover them. They are more easily dis-
covered in some than in others. Some writers are
LECT. xviii.] READING AND STUDY. 271
secretive : they do not let themselves loose in their
speech. But these are inferiors in literary power.
The great minds liberate themselves; they move on
winged utterances ; they throw the whole force of
their own being into their creations. Then, like other
works of creation, the thing created bears the image of
the creator. It is impossible, for instance, to read with
scholarly care the sonnets of Shakspeare, or Byron's
" Cain," without discovering somewhat of the personal
life and character of the author. Even a heedless
reader can not escape the discovery of the hidden
character of the author's mind in reading Hawthorne's
" Marble Faun " or '' The Scarlet Letter." They pre-
sent a still picture of the man which is more suggestive
than an autobiography.
That is unscholarly reading for a professional man,
reading for his own culture as a public speaker, which
does not disclose somewhat of the process of author-
ship. Not the man only, but his work, needs to be
made visible. To achieve this requires study, as dis-
tinct from reading. The majority of educated men
read a vast deal more than they study. The old adage,
" Commend me to the man of one book," was founded
upon the invaluable worth of critical reading. We do
a permanent evil to our own minds, if we read a valua-
ble book as we skim the newspapers. It is impossible
to appreciate an athletic literature without some degree
of the strain of a mental athlete in the study of it.
Specially is this true of that mastery of the process of
authorship which a public speaker needs to ace aire by
his reading.
To illustrate this critical method in reading for pro-
ftjssional discipline, we should observe such things as
272 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. x\:n.
the following. Respecting the materials of thought,
Are they true ? are they relevant ? are they original ?
are they intense? are they the obvious outflow of a
full mind? are they suggestive of reserved force? do
they mark a candid thinker, a sympathetic thinker,
a mind which puts itself en rapport with the reader?
Respecting the style of the work, such points as these
need attention : Is the style clear, concise, forcible, pic
turesque? Are the sentences involved? Does a Latin,
or a German, or a Saxon model prevail in their struc-
ture? Do laconic sentences abound? interrogatives ?
antitheses? parentheses? rhythmic clauses? clauses in
apposition ? quotations ? epithets ? long words ? short
words ? obsolete words ? archaic words ? euphonious
words? synonyms? monosyllabic words? Is the vo-
cabulary affluent, or stinted ? Is the style as a whole
that of oratory, or of the essay? Is it as a whole natu-
ral to the subject and the discussion ? Is it as a whole
peculiar to the author, or imitative of other authors?
Does it indicate in the author the habit of weiofhingf
well the forces of language? Does it contain frag-
ments void of thought? Robert Hall's well-known
criticism of his own production, which a friend was
reading to him for the purpose, illustrates critical study
of style: "'Pierce' is the word: I never coald have
meant to say 'penetrate' in that connection.''
It is sometimes said that this critical reading is a
pettifogging process, — the mind is contracted by it.
Not so, if the v ^lume in hand is one of great and
enduring power. A great mind works as the great
powers of nature do in producing a multitude of di-
minutive creations. We can not neglect these, and
yet know that mind thoroughly in its beft moods of
LECT. XVIII.] THE PHILOSOPHICAL SPIRIT. 273
authorship. Lord Bacon says, " He that can not con-
tract the sight of his mind, as well as disperse and
dilate it, wantetli a great quality." Reading in this
manner, one acquires not only a knowledge of an au-
thor's mental character and habits of thinking, out
somewhat of the very process of production in the
case in hand. Even a little of such acute reading will
create a new perceptive power in all other reading.
The knowledge gained will approach the accuracy and
intricacy of self-knowledge.
Are there not some authors with whom already you
have formed this kind of personal intimacy ? If you
should happen upon an anonymous extract from them
which you had never seen before, you could pronounce
confidently upon their origin. You know it by a word,
a tone of thought, an idiomatic sentence or illustration,
as you recognize a friend in the distance by his gait, or
the swing of his arm. The authorship of the " Waverley
Novels " was detected by readers of the " Scottish
Ballads " and " The Lay of the Last Minstrel," long
before Walter Scott acknowledged the authorship.
This critical reading which makes it impossible for an
author to secrete himself from readers is the basis of
all mastery of books.
2. Scholarly reading is reading in the spirit of philo-
sophical inquiry.
There is a difference between literary curiosity and
literary inquiry. Curiosity contents itself with facts :
inquiry seeks for the principles which underlie the
facts. Curiosity asks " What ? " inquiry asks " Why ? "
Why is one discussion masterly, and another feeble?
Why does one volume suggest material for two ? Why
is one order of thought superior to another? Why
274 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xvtii.
does one page require a second reading? Why does
one structure of discourse excel another? Why is one
style of illustration more vivid than another ? Why is
one construction, one length, one emphasis, of a sen-
tence, more effective than another ? Why is one word
better than another? Why say "pierce," and not
'' penetrate " ?
Some anomalies in literature force upon a critic the
philosophical inquiry. Let us note an illustration of
this. Has it never occurred to you what a singular
violation of congruity occurs in the first stanza of one
of the dearest hymns of the church, perhaps the hymn
which above all others has won the affection of Chris-
tian hearts? On what principle can criticism justify
such lines as these ? —
" There is a fountain filled with blood
Drawn from Immanuel's veins,
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
Lose all their guilty stains."
Do we ever fill a fountain? Is there no jar upon
aesthetic feeling in the anatomical specification of veins?
Would any thing but the necessities of rhyme induce a
poet to prefer that image to the " heart " ? Is the pic-
ture, when finished, an attractive or an impressive one
to the imagination ? Is there any congruity in an inter-
change of the images of "flood " and " fountain " ?
These aesthetic difficulties have been submitted to
several of the most accomplished Christian critics of the
country. They were unanimous in condemning the
incongruities on aesthetic grounds, yet as unanimous in
saying that no art can improve the stanza on moral
ground?. James Montgomery was so sensitive to these
LECT. XVIII.] LITERARY ANOMALIES. 2 < 0
imaginative defects of the h3'mn, that he once published
it revised by his own hand, with this stanza adjusted to
the demands of taste. But who has ever sung the
revised edition ? In what collections of psalmody has
it ever found a place ? It has fallen still-born. Chris-
tian worship clings to Cowper's original. Christian
hearts will love it in all its gesthetic deformity; and
more, Christian feeling denies the deformity, let criti-
cism say what it will.
There is a reason for such an apparent anomaly as
this. Genuine taste and Christian sensibility never
conflict in reality. The following explanation has been
suggested by a living scholar whose aesthetic taste and
religious sensibility both entitle him to a hearing. He
says substantiall}^ that the whole conception of the
atoning work of our Lord is so august and so myste-
rious, that the mind does not demand in a lyric expres-
sion of it the sharpness of congruity which it would
demand in the expression of a less solemn or a less
obscure thought. The whole idea of the atonement is
an anomaly. Esthetic anomalies are in keeping with
it. It overawes aesthetic feeling in its common forms.
It exalts the moral sensibility in the place of that
feeling. An Oriental confusion of metaphor, arising
out of luxuriance of imagery, is therefore invited by
the strange abnormal character of the thing expressed.
The poetic mind declines to trace such a thing in
imagery exact and finished, like that in which it would
paint a rainbow, or fringe a cloud. In such a mind
the Christian feeling which loves the stanza as it is, i''
more truthful than the aesthetic feeling which would
condemn it. Whether or not this is a satisfactory
explana'*:ion of this example, the example itself illus-
276 MEN Ai>D BOOKS. [lect. xvin.
tralee the working of philosophical criticism, and the
necessity of it in the explanation of anomalies.
Again : philosophical inquiry gives dignity to criti-
cism. By means of it criticism constantly makes incur-
sions into mental science. The rhetorical force of one
word may be attributable to a fundamental principle
in philosophy. The words " power," " cause," " ought,"
are unanswerable arguments for certain philosophical
truths. The existence of those words is a philosophi-
cal fact. The true ' philosophy of mind can not be
evolved without them. Yet the proper use of them is
one of the things with which rhetorical criticism con-
cerns itself. This is but one of a multitude of ways
in which criticism and mental science work into each
other's domains.
Moreover, philosophical criticism often reverses our
first judgment of authors. A search for the reason of
an opinion will often lead a candid mind to give up the
opinion. So our judgments of authors are often heredi-
tary judgments. In our maturer culture we can not
defend them ; and we discover this by asking why we
attribute to such authors the qualities we revere. Our
first impressions of authors are also often our juvenile
impressions. We find that our literary manhood does
not support them ; and we either discover this, or are
confirmed in it, by raising the philosophical inquiry,
Why? The glare of a false literature is often thus
found out, when a more indolent criticism would be
dazzled for a lifetime.
3. The most useful reading is done by a scholarly
division of labor. By this I mean, that critical attention
should be directed to one thing at a time. We can not
wisely bring to critical reading the habits we form in
LECT. XVIII.] ANALYTIC READING. 277
accumulative reading. Deep boring must be done in
spots. The surface we cover with our reading should
be dotted over with points at which we sink a shaft of
critical inquiry. An inspection of your present habits
of reading will probably disclose to you that they have
thus far been almost wholly acquisitive and discursive
in their character. You have read for information and
entertainment, not for critical culture.
Acquisitive reading for critical purposes is wearisome,
because it is unproductive of results. No man will
long continue it. Did you ever attempt to xlrag a tree
through a narrow gateway, with the branches headed
to the front ; and did you not discover a very conven-
ient principle of mechanics when the bright thought
occurred to you to turn it end for end ? The single
trunk obeyed you, and drew after it the supple branches
which were so refractory before. Like such a juvenile
error are attempts to carry a great diversity of critical
processes along side by side in our reading. The diver-
sity bewilders. The objects of our critical attention
straggle out on this side and on that. Our thought
seizes one and another at random, and drops each to
attend to a third, till, by dint of tug and heat, we ad-
vance by inches to the discovery that we are losing all
pleasure, and gaining no discipline but such as is the
common lot of saints. At last, bruised and irritated,
we give it up in despair. Reverse the process, fix
attention on one thing at a time, and you advance with
ease and with the consciousness of progress.
For the sake of definiteness in our conception of this
method, let several applications of it be noticed. Thus
division of labor may be applied to the study of diver-
sities in kind of literature. For example, the essays
278 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xyui.
of our language form a department by themselves.
Stud}^ tliem as such. Get a clear idea of the English
essay, — what it is, what is its relation to other depart-
ments of our literature, when it originated, who are
its chief masters, what are their peculiarities, and what
is the control of the essay over modern opinion. Do
not burden your study of the essay by trying to carry
abreast with it in your reading English poetry, history,
biography, philosophy. Let each of these monopolize
your time in turn. One week, or its equivalent, de-
voted to a study of the essay alone, will give you a
very valuable knowledge, even to some extent a crit-
ical knowledge of it, which will assist you in the studies
of a lifetime.
Division of labor may be applied to criticism of sin-
gle authors, if they deserve it. Study an author by
installments. Study first the sentiment, then the con-
struction, then the illustrative materials, then the style,
and, finally, his place in the fraternity of authors and
in the history of his times. The severest labor of such
reading is near the beginning. One advances in it
with accelerated speed. You are constantly taking
side-glances, also, at other things which you can not
help noticing, as you see things out of the corners of
your eyes. This relieves the monotony of your work,
without burdening your attention with unmanageable
varieties.
This analytic method of study may be applied to
the several parts of a discourse or of a poem. It is
the method usually adopted in lectures on the struc-
ture and composition of a sermon. We study texts
by themselves ; introductions are considered alone ;
propositions, divisions, conclusions — each receives dis
tECT. XVIII.] ANALYTIC READING 279
cussion in its place. The same division of labor may
be applied to other species of composition, — to ora-
tions, to works of fiction, to histories. This principle
of division of labor is the one on which we pursue all
other intelligent courses of study: we study theolog;y
by topics ; we read history by periods, by royal reigns
and dynasties ; medical science is studied by classifi-
cation of diseases : why should not the criticism of
literature be facilitated by the same principle? This
method in the study of books tends to secure profound
knowledge at the vital points of literary history. We
can not otherwise discover the vital points; for we
shall not otherwise study any one thing long enough
to discover its relations to other literature. But, with
a few things thus thoroughly mastered, we shall know
that our culture is well anchored. We can trust our-
selves : gales of false taste will not drag us from safe
moorings. What we know, we know; and we know
that we know it. If our judgments differ from those
of others, we can afford to wait for the decisions of
time.
By this method, ultimately, even the extent of our
literary knowledge will be most effectually enlarged.
The chief objection to this painstaking stud/ is that
the work is slow. But in truth it is the best method
for acquisitive study in the end. Dr. Johnson, in liis
"Lives of the Poets," says that the reason why the
ancients surpassed the moderns in literary acquisitions
is, that they had a more truthful conception of the
limitations of human powers, and confined themselves
to one thing. The measure of our knowledge is not
so much that of what we gain as of what we hold
and use. In war, military policy is not to conquer a
280 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xvin.
strategic point till force enough is at command to hold
it. So, in literary pursuits, conscious mastery at a few
points will soon extend itself to others. The points
of conquest will soon begin to communicate with each
other. There are certain signals in a man's conscious-
ness of knowledge by which mastery in one thing helps
mastery in another. An interchange of tribute is car-
ried on, by which knowledge assists all other knowl-
edge. We are not conscious of that, except through
profound and thorough scholarship : nothing less than
that deserves the name of culture.
LECTURE XIX.
METHODS OF STUDY, CONTINUED. — LITERARY COMPARI-
SONS.— CULTURE OF WEAK TASTES. — COLLATERAL
READING.
4. Continuing the discussion of the scholarly ideal
of reading, I remark that it involves studious compari-
son of authors with each other.
Literary comparisons are often involuntary. One
can not read, even cursorily, two such authors as Adam
Smith and John Ruskin, or two such as Jeremy Taylor
and Robert South, without unconsciously instituting
comparisons between them. We obtain a more definite
conception of each by contrast with the other. From
time immemorial the two gre'at orators of antiquity
have lived in literary criticism chiefly by means of
such comparison. We know Cicero and Demosthenes
to-day mainly in the fact that each was what the other
was not. The literary mind of to-day would never
have known Plato as it does but for the existence of
Aristotle.
This law of comparison rules even our judgment of
national literatures. We have a conception of the
Greek literature which we never could have had, if
the Roman literature had not been superinduced upon
it. The Greek idea of beauty is more vivid in our
thoughts than it could have been but for the Roman
281
282 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xix
idea of law. The German and the English and the
French literatures are thus illuminating each other in
modern critical judgment. Is the allegory of the
three artists, illustrative of the differences in the three
national minds, too well known to deserve rehearsal?
The legend reads that three painters — an Englishman,
a Frenchman, and a German — wero commissioned to
paint a picture of a lion. The Frenchman started the
next day for Africa, and there drew his picture of a
lion from the life. The Englishman went to the British
Museum, and painted his picture from the authorities
he found in the library of natural science. The Ger-
man shut himself up in his own library, and evolved a
lion from the depths of his own consciousness. The
caricature will live a long time as a representative of
the tliree literatures and the national minds which
they express.
Comparisons connect different departments of litera-
ture. We see the structure of Edmund Burke's mind
the more clearly for our knowing his early passion
for the poetry of Milton. The eloquence of Massil-
lon is the more intelligible to us when we learn his
predilection for the poetry of Homer. The dramatic
power of Whitefield we understand when we are told
of his youthful studies of Shakspeare. Criticism would
be deprived of one of its most powerful auxiliaries, if
it were dissevered from this study of resemblances and
contrasts by comparison of authors.
The value of this expedient is seen, also, in the fact
that comparisons have associated certain names in lit-
erature with certain names in art, in current literary
opinion. Criticism often expresses its most profound
judgment of an author by saying, that, if he had not
LECT. XTX ] SIMILITUDES OF GENIUS. 283
been an author, he would have been equally eminent
in pamting or in sculpture. Canova's remark respect-
ing Pitt and Fox was founded on the law of mental
resemblances. To the Athenian mind, Pericles and
Phidias were of the same stock of mental character;
though it is not known that the one ever handled a
chisel, or the other ever spoke in public. "Paradise
Lost " has suggested to more than one reader the fres-
cos of Michael Angelo. Disraeli observes that jMilton,
Michael Angelo, and Handel are parallels to each other
in their respective arts. Each represents the same
epoch in the history of his art. Dante's " Inferno "
and the painting of "The Last Judgment" have a
deeper ground of reciprocal suggestion than similarity
of theme. One of the keenest of modern critics has
characterized the poetry of Shelley by likening it to
the coloring of Titian. The relics we have of the
speeches of several great generals to their armies con-
firm the criticism which their military exploits alone
have suggested, that they might have been great ora-
tors. Many lovers of eloquence have regretted that
Caesar and Napoleon were not restricted by force of
circumstances to the senates of nations, rather than to
their battlefields. Mr. Everett, characterizing Daniel
Webster, compares him to the Prince of Conde, on the
eve of the battle of Rocroi, and to Alexander before
the battle of Arbela. These are not fanciful sugges-
tions : they are founded on real similitudes of genius.
They illustrate the value of literary comparisons as
auxiliaries to critical knowledge of authors.
The most delicate qualities of authors are scarcely
di.icoverable without the aid of comparisons. Delicate
distinctions of color you can not discern, except by
284 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xix.
placing them side by side. So it is in the study of
books. Wholesale criticisms of authors, either in praise
or censure, are almost sure to be false, because they
overlook the refinements of criticism. They would be
corrected often by more patient comparisons. Criticism
is often like color-blindness, by reason of its inability
to see the lights and shadows of literary character.
This was the defect in Jeffrey's criticism of Words-
worth. One must have accustomed one's taste to enjoy
serene and lunar models of beauty before one can come
to a poet like Wordsworth with an appreciative spirit.
This can not be gained without a considerable range
of comparative criticism.
Comparison of authors assists us to a true estimate
of the relative value of different qualities in literature.
Not all the qualities of good writing are equally valua-
ble. Mr. Webster owed much of his success in oratory
to the justness of his estimate of strength as superior
to beauty in argumentative debate. Men of the first
order in senatorial discussion often choose abruptness
of speech, so that their power shall not be inwreathed,
and therefore entangled and impeded, by appendages
of beauty. Edmund Burke failed in public speech,
because of his failure to appreciate the qualities of oral
as compared with those of written address. Burke's
speeches are essays. His friend Sheridan was a more
powerful debater in his day ; yet Lord Brougham says
that he played to the galleries, and indulged in clap-
trap. If JUirke had brought the solidity of his genius
to a fair expression by those qualities which Sheridan
exaggerated, he would have been to the English Par-
liament what Demosthenes was to the Greek republics.
Yet such balancing of opposite virtues in composition
LECT. XIX.] SYMMETRY OF CULTURE. 285
is not gained otherwise tliaa by critical and candid
comparison of authors distinguished for each.
5. As far as possible, our reading should be made
tributary to the correction of our own known deficien-
cies in literary production.
Variety in selection of authors is not sufficient to
insure symmetry of culture. Our existing tastes may
tyrannize over our reading so far as to defeat the object
of that variety. Let your mind swing loose in the act
of reading, and you will inevitably be swayed by your
tastes in appropriating what you read. You will appro-
priate only those elements which are kindred to your
present tastes. An imaginative mind will coin fancy
out of metaphysical definitions, if it reads passively.
A prosaic mind will fashion a creed out of poetic im-
agery, if it exercises no control of itself in reading.
It requires often self-denial to restrain our ruling tastes,
and to seek, by dint of patient criticism, for those things
which we most need, but do not want. Few scholars
achieve this self-conquest whose literary enthusiasm is
not largely pervaded by religious principle.
Observe an illustration of the need of the principle
before us to remedy one of the most common defects of
preachers; viz., the want of illustrative power. There
is a class of preachers who are men of good sense, who
have read extensively, who are well-informed as men
of the world, whose discourses are clear, consecutive,
well-aimed, and enforced by an earnest spirit. Yet
they do not preach breathing sermons. They can not
make truth vivid; they can not freshen stale truths.
They are not live men in the pulpit: therefore their
preaching is humdrum. Pious hearers who carry in
their own souls a coal from a burning altar will call
286 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xiX.
it " good preaching ; " but they are not really moved
by that preaching any more than the wicked and the
indifferent are, who call it stupid. They are self-moved.
Such a preacher has no right to quiet his conscience
by the self-assurance that he has done his duty because
he has preached the truth. He has not preached the
truth truthfully; he has not preached it scripturally.
In the Scriptures truth is alive. It is all aglow with
vitality made to appear vital by the dramatic resources
and the quickened sensibilities of the writer. Our
friend the preacher has a new process of culture to go
through. The imaginative element in him needs to
be aroused, and his reading needs to be so directed as
to achieve this. He needs to study the great poets,
the dramatic masters, the picturesque historians, biog-
raphers, essayists, of our language, and the most dra-
matic orators and preachers. By such a process of
self-discipline the most prosaic mind may acquire some-
what of the genius of an orator. Every man has that
genius in his nature : every man will show it, if his
house takes fire. The elements of eloquence, of dra-
matic power, of painting, of whatever is vivid in con-
ception, and forcible in utterance, are in the germ in
every human soul. They need development in every
preacher to make the pulpit a throne of power.
This principle is sometimes needful to remedy a
defect the opposite to that just named ; viz., an in-
ability to preach logical, direct, and severe discourses.
This, though a less frequent defect, is by no means
uncommon. It often results from a neglect to cultivate
dormant tastes. I can best develop this by an instance
which came under my own observation. A young man
began his ministry with me who possessed some of the
LECT. XIX.;; OVERGROWN TASTES. 287
choicest elements of character which it has ever been
my lot to witness in one of his years. He was passion-
ately attached to the ministry as his life's work. The
only lamentation he uttered on his death-bed was that
his disease would cost him his profession.
The chief defect of his character was a beauty devel-
oped into a deformity. He was by nature a poet, and
by culture he had made himself nothing more. All
truth to his mind assumed imaginative forms, and ex-
pressed itself in rhythm. The sternest truths of religion
dissolved into images of beauty. Law, predestination,
sin, retribution, put on a roseate hue. On themes
kindred to his overgrown tastes he could preach, to a
solitary and dreaming hearer here and there, with the
voice of a charmer. But the majority of his hearers
were not moved even to a cold admiration of sermons
into which he poured his whole soul. His materials,
his methods of division, his style, his indirect, imagina-
tive, shrinking appeals, were too ethereal for this home-
spun and corrupt world. To the masses his was an
unknown tongue.
Some subjects he could not discuss at all : it was not
in him. Retribution, depravity, decrees, he would
never have preached upon definitely to the end of time.
He probably never made a direct appeal to a hearer's
conscience. For robust talk in the pulpit he seemed
to have no heart. Yet, strange as it may seem, he had
by no means an effeminate nature. In defense of an
unpopular opinion he was lion-hearted. In times of
persecution he would have been sure to be in the
minority and a martyr. He could never have been
Luther, but he would have been Melanchthon : Luther
would have loved and leaned upon him. His few
288 MEl^ AND BOOKS. [lect. xix,
friends revered him for his purity of character. Men
who experienced none of the difficulty which he had
in obtaining a pulpit felt self-reproached when they
communed with him.
The thing which he needed to make him a preacher
was more hardihood. He should have forced it. He
ought to have studied Edwards on the Will. He should
have read Dr. South, and the prose of Milton, and
Cromwell's speeches. He ought to have taken as his
models John Knox and Richard Baxter and President
Finney. He should have gone upon the wharves, and
talked to sailors. His brethren in the ministry felt
relieved, for his sake, when God removed him : we
thought, in reverent remembrance of him, of that fea-
ture in the felicity of the redeemed which seems in the
Scriptures to represent them as instructors of angels.
He appeared to be better fitted to that service than to
any demanded in a world like this.
By the views here expressed, it is not meant that
natural tastes are to be suppressed. Symmetry is not
worth the loss of vitality. A motionless equilibrium
of tastes is more fatal than a vivacious distortion of
them. No fault is greater than a tame faultlessness.
But there is a practicable regulation of one-sided pro-
clivities, which is not the extinction or the enslavement
of tliem. Within reasonable limits let the natural
tastes have their way, but develop the dormant tastes :
that is the point, and it is practicable. Defects can be
so far corrected, that, while you will always do some
things better than others, you can still do "^he others
well. No man of common sense in the pulpit needs
to be dumb on some subjects, and imbecile to some
hearers, for the want of the tastes requisite to "become
i^ECT. XIX.] COLI^iTERAL READING. 289
all things tu all men." Still less need any man ^^hG is
called of God to the ministry be such a deformed man
that he must make a one-sided preacher. Put your
culture into the weak points of your intellect, as you
put your principle into the weak points of your char-
acter. You are in no danger in either case of landing
upon a dead level.
6. A scholarly ideal of reading includes a study of
the biographies of authors and the history of their
times. A book is part of an author's life. In itself it
is incomplete ; by itself it may be false : we need to see
it as a part of the man. It is, therefore, a good general
rule not to read an anonymous book. Now and then
an exception occurs, like " Ecce Homo ; " but exceptions
are rare. Still more significantly is an author a fixture
of his age. He is set in the age like a stone in an arch.
It is never true literally that men write for future times.
They write for their own times : they are made by their
own times. The avenue to immortality for any man's
influence lies through the life-blood of a living genera-
tion. Matthew Arnold means just this when he says,
that, " for the creation of a master-work of literature,
two powers must concur, — the power of the moment
and the power of the man : the man is not enough
without the moment." The law of nature is inexora-
ble in this conjunction of the man with the time. Even
the literature of inspiration is not free from its work-
ing. The Bible is intensely a local book : it is historic
in its structure. To be understood, and still more to
be felt as a power, it must be studied in its historic sur-
roundings. Isolate it from those surroundings, and you
have one of the most unintelligible of volumes.
So it is with uninspired authorship : it CJin not shoot
290 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xix,
over its own age. Every author is the growth of his
own times : the roots of his thinking are there. If we
would know him well, we must see him there in his
natural birthplace, in the very homestead of his literary
being. We must first see him as his contemporaries
saw him ; then we are prepared to see him with eyes
which they had not.
One or two illustrations of this principle will indicate
the importance of it in the history of the pulpit. In
the age of the Reformation and that next succeeding,
few preachers, so far as I know, preserved strictly what,
in modern homiletics, would be regarded as unity of
discourse. Often the whole system of grace was pre-
sented in one sermon. A preacher would have sub-
jected his evangelical spirit to suspicion, if he often
discoursed without introducing the doctrine of justifi-
cation by faith. It was then that the old homiletic rule
was originated, that a man should never preach without
saying so much of the gospel, that if a hearer should
never hear, and had never heard, another sermon, he
should not be ignorant of the way of salvation.
Modern homiletic science has abrogated that rule.
The taste of modern congregations would soon weary
of the sameness of the preaching which that rule would
create. But how does such preaching appear when seen
in the times which created it ? Set it, like a picture,
in the frame of its age, and it seems the most becom-
ing, because the most necessary, style of preaching.
The people were emerging from Romanism. The doc-
trines of grace were a novelty. Preaching itself had
become a rare accomplishment. Elementary views of
doctrines, and those often reiterated, were demanded by
the intellectual knowledge and the religious culture of
i,ECT. XIX.] PEDANTRY IN SERMONS. 291
the times. It was more tliLii pardonable, therefore, if
Luther and his contemporaries repeated and reiterated
the doctrine of justification by faith, and preached it by
remote connection with other themes, and dragged it
without connections into their conclusions. The emer-
gencies of the times demanded this homiletic lawless-
ness, and the rude taste of the people did not condemn
it. To have forced upon the pulpit of that age, with
Athenian severity of taste, the homiletic canons of later
times, would have been neither good preaching nor
good sense. The people of the age were not Athenians.
Take an illustration from the English pulpit of the
seventeenth century. A certain preacher in the reign
of the first king James selected for a text the words :
"There are spots in your feasts of charity." He an-
nounced his subject thus, " Maculce in Epulis^ He
proceeded to divide his discourse as follows : 1. " Mensa
Syharitica ;'' 2. '•'• Mensa Centaurica ; '' 3. ^'' Mensa Thy-
estea^ Then, by way of contrast, he considered, 1.
'•'' Convivium spirituale ;^^ 2. ^^Convivium sacraiyientale ;''^
3. ^' Convivium eoeleste ;^' which last division is ampli-
fied as being " eTzovQanoa-evcoxta,^^ which is still more mag-
nificently developed by the subdivisions of " visio
divinarum^'^ " societas angelorum^^ and " consortium sanc-
torum J'
True, he translated this gibberish. But our modern
criticism, in its impatience, says that he must have been
a fool. Perhaps not. Turn to Bishop Latimer, whose
power in the pulpit was such that his enemies did not
know what to do about it, except to burn the man to
ashes. Yet we find him guilty of the same pedantry.
The text of his famous "Sermon of the Card," he
announces in Latin, "Quis es?" Turn to Jeremy
292 MEN AND EOOKS. [lect. xrx.
Taylor, — no fool surely, — and you find, that in sermons
which he artlessly tells us were preached to " the family
and domestics of his patron, with a few cottagers of the
neighborhood," there occurs a profusion of classical
allusion, which seems like the echo of an Oxford lec-
ture-room. Quotations from Plautus and Homer occur
in a singular medley with others from Cicero and
Seneca.
As sensible men, we must condemn all this ; and we
marvel that he had not the good sense to condemn it
also. But we do him great injustice, if we judge him
by the tastes of this age. One of the most curious
inlets to the character of the English pulpit of those
times is located just here. Not only is it true that this
pedantry accorded with the scholastic taste of that age,
but the popular taste refused to respect preaching
which was not sprinkled with it. I open almost at
random the sermons of a contemporary of Jeremy
Taylor, and I find the text quoted in Latin, two Greek
quotations on one page, and four Latin extracts on
another. Reverence for the classic languages had
descended to the seventeenth century from a century
earlier, when there was no literature to speak of in the
vernacular tongues of Europe. Erasmus risked his life
in a mob, because he would not talk Italian. He aban-
doned a benefice offered to him in England, because he
would not stoop to learn the English language. He
often refused to converse in German, though he knew
the language expertly. He thought the Reformation
degraded by Luther's preaching and writing in German.
This was the general taste of the scholars of his age.
Erasmus was the most liberal of them all. They looked
upon the classic tongues as the only tongues in which
a scholarly literature could ever exist.
uxn. XIX.] POPULAR SCHOLASTICISM. 293
The common people, therefore, did their best to ape
the folly of their betters. Through that whole period,
down to a time long after Jeremy Taylor, this was the
inherited taste of the people. They could not read or
understand Latin and Greek ; but they could- hear it,
and their ears were elongated by that. The relics of
that taste remained to our own day. So lately as in
the last decade of the eighteenth century, Clarkson pub-
lished a pamphlet in England against the slave-trade,
which he thought it politic to publish in Latin, lest he
should not attract the attention of the learned men of
Europe. It is within the remembrance of men now
living that German scholars began generally to think
it respectable to write commentaries in German.
In the time of Jeremy Taylor this taste for pedantry
was, in one aspect of it, a virtue in the people, what-
ever it was in the scholars of the age. In the people
it was, in part, the natural expression of their respect
for learning. They objected to the learned Edward
Pocock, professor of Arabic at Oxford, that he was
" a plain, honest man, but no Latiner." Even modest
George Herbert, when he began to preach, thought it
necessary to awe the people by preaching to them a
prodigiously learned sermon, in which he showed them
that he was equal to the best as a "Latiner;" but in
his pious simplicity he informed them that he should
not generally preach to them so learnedly as that, but
henceforth he should try to save their souls.
These illustrations show the practical necessity of the
princij^le before us to a sound judgment of literature.
To know an author well, we must know the man ; and,
to know the man well, we must know the times of which,
by an irrevocable law of nature, he was the representa-
tive and the child.
294 MEN AND BOOKS [lect. xix.
Collateral reading will often disclose to us the secret
of otherwise inexplicable effects of literature in the age
when it was written. Contemporary influence is often
the mystery of the next age. Our American pulpit
already contains remarkable illustrations of this. Presi-
dent Edwards's sermons, as we read them, do not ex-
plain to us the astonishing effects of some of them.
His elocution had almost no concern with them, except
to moderate their fiery pungency. No audience of
to-day could be plunged into an incontrollable fit of
weeping by the sermon on the text, " Their feet shall
slide in due time." An eye-witness testifies that Mr.
Spurgeon's audiences listen to sermons from him which
resemble that one from President Edwards, not only
without a tear, but with signs of the most stolid indif-
ference. To explain the experience of the church at
Enfield, we must take note of the idiosyncrasies of that
age as they are pictured in the history of the " Great
Awakening."
LECTURE XX.
ASSOCIATION OF STUDY WITH COMPOSITION. — ITS II E-
CESSITY. — ITS METHODS.
7. A PEINCIPLE fundamental to a preacher's study
of literature is that it should be accompanied with
habitual practice in composition.
If rightly conducted, a pastor's compulsory habits
of production are rather a help than a hinderance to
the scholarly character of his reading. Criticism and
production re-act favorably upon each other. Nothing
else is so powerful a tonic to the mind as composing:
in certain condition.; of the cerebral system it is a direct
tonic to the brain, if conducted on the principle of
alternation. Composition is creation. It is athletic
exercise. The weakest minds are the most active ab-
sorbents, with the least capacity of production. The
working of a healthy mind in study is like respiration :
inhalation and exhalation are reciprocal. Without such
reciprocity, a very large portion of our reading must
be useless. It passes through the mind, but does not
remain there. The power of retention needs the stimu-
lus of production.
What knowledge is that which is most indelibly fixed
in your memory, — that which you have learned only,
or that which you have taught ? What accumulations
are mi^st perfectly at your command, — those which are
295
296 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xx
stored by tlie dead-lift of memoiy, or those which you
have used by reproduction? The discovery is often
disheartening, but it is healthful, that one is making a
mere valve of one's mind, opening it for a stream of
reading to run through, and shutting it upon nothing.
Again : study, without mental production, creates in
the mind itself inferior habits of thinking. We think
very differently in the two cases, of thinking for the
purpose of expression, and thinking passively. We
think more clearly and less discursively when we think
for the purpose of communication; we analyze more
accurately ; we individualize more sharply ; we picture
thought more vividly ; we are more apt to tliink in
words.
Test this view by your own experience. Why is it
that reverie has such a debilitating effect upon your
mental energy ? Why is it that nothing else so surely
unfits you for a morning's work in composing as to
begin it with a waking dream? / nd why is it that
nothing else breaks up the dream so sternly as the act
of thinking with the pen ? Some of the most accom-
plished writers have formed the habit of taking the
pen in hand as the most efficient aid to quick, con-
secutive, clear, profound, and vivid thinking. Robert
Southey says, " It is the very nose in the face of my
intellect that I never enter into any regular train of
thought unless the pen be in hand."
Professor Stuart, who was one of the most fluent
composers of his time, once told me, that, when he
was a young man, he was often compelled to quit his
sermon, and walk in his garden, in sheer vacuity of
thought, not knowing what to say next. " But now,"
said he, " my mental working is all instantaneous and
LECT. xx.J COMPOSING AND INVENTION. 297
incessant. Results flash upon me. I draft a plan of
a sermon as rapidly as I can move a pen. I could keep
a dozen pens in motion, if I had as many right hands."
He attributed that state of mental productiveness to
his lifelong habit of associating study with composing.
Mental production, when reduced to a habit, pro-
motes originality of thinking. In a perfectly healthy
mind the act of composing is a stimulus to invention.
The mental state in composing is an elevated state ;
the mind then has a masterly sweep of vision. Sir
"Walter Scott says, " My imagination is never so full
of a new work as when I approach the end of one in
hand." Clergymen often say that they are never so
ready for their week's work in sermonizing as on Sun-
day evening. Dr. Thomas Brown, the celebrated pro-
fessor of mental science at Edinburgh, was so confident,
from his experience, of the power of composing to
stimulate his invention, that he at last trusted to it
for the suggestion of his most original thoughts. His
lectures were written chiefly in the evening before
their delivery. Many of his most brilliant trains of
reasoning never came to him in his calmer hours.
They were originated by the extemporaneous tug of
composition, and he lost them if he did not use them
then. President Edwards somewhere laments the loss
of a thought which came to liim while composing a
sermon, but which he did not pause to note down, and
which he mourns over as so much mental treasure lost
for ever.
This is the secret of the most brilliant extemporane-
ous eloquence. When Henry Ward Beecher's "Life-
Thoughts " were first presented to him in manuscript,
he said he 'was not ashamed of them : he would
298 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xx
*' father them, if he had ever had them." But many of
them he did not recognize. They had come to him in
moments of extemporaneous exhilaration, and had gone
from him. All such phenomena of literary experience
illustrate the secret and unconscious spur which com-
posing gives to invention.
Further : study without composition destroys the
natural proportion of executive power to critical taste.
True, in a scholarly mind critical taste will always be
in advance of executive power. Ever}?- studious man
knows better than he can do. Still there is a certain
proportion between these two things, which can not be
impaired with impunity to executive genius. Destroy
that proportion, and you create a morbid taste respect-
ing every thing which you do yourself. Thus fettered,
a man becomes a fastidious and discouraged critic of his
own productions. The excellences of authors do not
inspire, they only intimidate him. His own failure is
always a foregone conclusion. They affect him as the
first study of Alexander's campaigns affected Caesar.
His sensibility becomes diseased; and his own efforts
of executive skill cease to be elastic, because they cease
to be hopeful. There is in all intellectual experience a
principle corresponding to that moral principle which
gives efficacy to prayer. The mind must have faith in
order to achieve any thing.
With such disproportion between taste and executive
power comes the temptation, almost irresistibly, to
relapse into the habits of an amateur, and abandon
original composition altogether. A similar weakness has
infected other departments of labor. It was such an
excess of critical taste which led Leonardo Da Vinci
and Washington Allston to leave so many unfinished
LECT. XX.] COMPOSING AND CRITICISM. 299
paintings. It is notorious that the majority of Ameu-
can artists who go to the galleries of Italy become only
copyists : they cease to attempt original production.
Said one of the most eminent portrait-painters in this
country, after a year's residence in Florence, "I can
paint no more. These fellows are painters ; not I."
Even of Michael Angelo it is said that he worked in a
frenzy while the fever of his first conceptions was at
its height, but that, when a work was finished, he re-
lapsed into a chill, and his work disgusted him. His
ideals and his works were thus in incessant conflict in
his mind.
I suspect that the secret of the unwieldy style of
Dr. Chalmers is discovered in the fact, which he con-
fesses, that the difference between his ideal and his
execution " produced a constant strain." His style is
just that, — the straining of a mind in painful labor. It
is not the bounding of a mind at ease, drinking in the
exhilaration of its work. He never writes as if he
loved to write. Robert Southey speaks of his own
good fortune in not discovering certain faults in his
own work too soon. He says, "I might have been
spoiled, like a good horse, by being broken in too
early." Tasso came near refusing to publish his
"Jerusalem Delivered," because of the painful sense
he had of its failure to equal his own critical standard.
Dr. Arnold speaks of a certain subject on which he
must write ; and he says, " I groan beforehand when I
think how certainly I shall fail to do it justice." Such
a state of mind is debilitating, like a south wind. No
man can do his best on a theme which he approaches,
" groaning beforehand." When such debility becomes
chronic, a man is in peril of a permanent prosti'ation of
300 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xx.
the executive forces, so that compositior shtall never be
to him other than a drudgery and a sorr(;w. The evil is
never outgrown by neglect of composition ; and culture
by other means than composition only aggravates it.
Let us now observe some of the methods by which
the study of books may be associated with practice in
composition most successfully. Of these, certain meth-
ods of imitation of authors deserve mention. These are
of long standing, and of high repute among rhetorical
writers. One is that of translation from a standard
author to one's own language. The method is to take
a page from Macaulay, for example, and by a few read-
ings familiarize your mind with the materials, and then
reproduce them in your own words. Another of these
ancient methods is that of translation from one stand-
ard author to another. The idea is to take a passage,
as before, and, instead of reproducing it in your own
language, to reproduce it in a style imitative of another
distinguished author. Transfer thus a page from Mil-
ton into a page from Hume. A third of these ancient
methods is that of originating your own materials, but,
in the expression of them, imitating one or more
authors of good repute.
These methods agree in the principle of imitation.
They have been practiced from time immemorial by
masters of composition. In ancient times, when the
literature of the world was less abundant than now, it
would have been deemed folly to dispense with such
elaborate methods of self-discipline in the education of
a public speaker. You will recall the example of
Demosthenes in the study of Thic\^dides, and of Cicero
in the study of several Greek a jthors. On the revival
of the ancient literatures in the middle ages, this imittt-
LECT. XX.] IMITATIVE COMPOSING. 301
tive study of the Greek and Latin classics was carried
to an almost fabulous extent.
In our own times, Daniel Webster, Rufus Choate,
Edward Everett, and John C. Calhoun all submitted
to this kind of drill. They owed to it, in part, their
marvelous command of English style. Webster ac-
quired such skill in imitation, that his reproduction of
John Adams in one of his orations has been supposed
by many well-informed critics to be a quotation. In-
deed, some fragments of it were quotations from the
letters of Mr. Adams to his wife ; but they were not
so extensive or important as to affect Mr. Webster's
title to the authorship of the passage in question. Ed-
mund Burke's imitation of Lord Bolingbroke, in his
" Vindication of Natural Society," Bolingbroke's edit-
ors thought it necessary to disown by a card to the
public.
It will not do to ignore, still less to sneer at, these
methods, which are supported by such names and such
success. Yet I do not recommend them to preachers,
and this for the reason that they are impracticable to
preachers. They presuppose leisure. But the early
years of a pastor give no such leisure as that which
commonly attends the early years of a young man in
any other profession. I have never known these
methods of discipline to be adopted by a young pastor.
I doubt whether a preacher has ever given them a fair
trial. I pass them, therefore, to notice a more practi-
cable method.
It is the habit of preparing the mind for daily com-
posing by the daily reading of a favorite author. In
the suggestion of this method I have specially in view
the necessary habits of preachers. Preachers must
302 MEN AND BOOKS. [lbjt. xx.
be prolific writers : they can not depend on favorable
moods for composing. They have before them, not a
life of literary leisure, but a life of professional toil,
the chief burden of which is mental production. Said
one of the most eminent pastors of Massachusetts in a
recent lecture to candidates for the ministry, " I have
been twenty years in the pastoral office ; and in all that
time I have done but one thing, — to get ready for next
Sunday." So the work appears to successful preachers.
They can not afford to spend much time as if in a
Friends' meeting, waiting for impulses of speech. They
must live in a state of mental production ; and, for this,
daily composing is the most natural and the most suc-
cessful expedient. It has been adopted by the most
prolific authors and the most laborious preachers. Lu-
ther's rule was " nulla dies sine lineaJ^
Assuming, then, daily composing as the usual habit
of a preacher, the plan here recommended is to com-
mence each day with an hour or more of studious read-
ing, and then to pass, without interval, from that
reading to the w^ork of composing. The advantages
of this method are numerous. One is, that it is practi-
cable, and is therefore more likely to be adopted than
the more laborious methods which imply ample leisure.
Another is, that it is an agreeable method, and there-
fore easily becomes habitual. A third is, that it can
be made to fall in with other objects of study. It can
be made both critical and accumulative in its character.
In the act of quickening the mind for its own produc-
tive labor, you can multiply your resources of thought.
A fourth and the chief advantage is the direct stim-
ulus which the mind may thus obtain for its own work.
A wise selection of authors may render this stimulus
LECT. XX.] STIMULATIVE READING. 303
almost invariable. Do not the majority of young
writers spend an hour before composing in the mental
toil of uplifting the mind to the level of its work, and
concentrating its attention? That hour given to a
suggestive author will commonly achieve the object
much more easily, with less wear of the nervous system,
and with less of spasmodic action in the work of
composing.
Let it be added, in leaving this topic, that the method
in question is supported by the practice of many emi-
nent authors. Voltaire used to read Massillon as a
stimulus to production. Bossuet read Homer for the
same purpose. Gray read Spenser's " Faerie Queene "
as the preliminary to the use of his pen. The favorites
of Milton were Homer and Euripides. Fenelon re-
sorted to the ancient classics promiscuously. Pope
read Dryden as his habitual aid to composing. Cor-
neille read Tacitus and Livy. Clarendon did the same.
Sir William Jones, on his passage to India, planned
five different volumes, and assigned to each the author
he resolved to read as a guide and an awakener to his
own mind for its work. Buffon made the same use of
the works of Sir Isaac Newton. With great variety of
tastes, successful authors have generally agreed in
availing themselves of this natural and facile method
of educating their minds to the work of original crea-
tion.
8. One principle remains to be noticed, by which
other principles should be affected in our methods of
study, which relates to the spirit of criticism. It is
that in our studies a generous appreciation of the genius
of others should be balanced by a just estimate of our
own.
304 MEN AKD BOOKS. [lect. xx.
Two opposite errors are suggested liere, against
which we need to be fore-armed. The first is that of
censorious and illiberal criticism. Gibbon classifies bad
critics in three divisions, — those who see nothing but
beauties, those who see nothing but faults, and those
who see nothing at all. If you see nothing but faults
in a great writer, you are in no mood to receive schol-
arly culture from him. De Quincey says that a surly
reader is inevitably a bad critic. A sarcastic spirit in
study is its own punishment. The truth is not in such
a spirit. That spirit is receptive only of what is mean
and degrading. " One can never know how small a
small man can look till he has seen him trying to look
down upon a great one."
Dr. Arnold says of historians, " If a historian be an
unbeliever in all heroism, if he be a man who brings
every thing down to the level of a common mediocrity,
depend upon it, the truth is not found in him." The
seat of the scoffer is not the seat of wisdon. The late
Professor Reed of Philadelphia illustrates the spirit
with which a young man, or any man, should read the
great lights of literary history. In a letter to a friend
he says, " I have just finished a lecture on Hamlet.
My reverent admiration for the myriad-minded man
has deepened by this study of his dramas : in the lowest
deep a lower deep. John Milton is before me in awful
grandeur for Monday next." Carlyle says that " great
souls are always reverent to that which is over them :
only small, mean souls are otherwise." Prescott the
historian, by years of genial study, acquired such an
affectionate reverence for the great minds in the history
of literature, that he requested, that, when he came to
die, his remains might be arrayed for the grave, and left
LECT. XX.] SELF-DEPRECIATION. 305
for a while alone in his library, in the midst of the vol-
umes in which he had found the scholarly companion-
ship of his life. By that loving fiction he would pay
his last tribute to the friends who had cheered him in
his blindness. Such is the spirit of a genuine scholar.
But an error opposite to that of illiberal and sar-
castic reading is that of self-depreciation in the contrast
with illustrious men. I have already spoken of this as
the result of a want of exercise of one's own powers.
Sometimes the cause of it lies deeper than that : it is
innate. A young writer does not trust his own pen,
because he does not trust himself in any thing. The
very thought of literary greatness oppresses him : there-
fore he does not let himself loose in composing. He is
an ascetic, practicing upon himself a severity of criti-
cism under which no abilities can expand freely.
Walter Scott, speaking of Campbell the poet, said,
" What a pity it is that Campbell does not give full
sweep to his genius! He has wings that would bear
him to the skies. He does now and then spread them
grandly ; but he folds them up again, and resumes his
perch, as if afraid to launch away. The fact is, he is
a bugbear to himself." Often is it true that discerning
critics see in a young man powers which success has
not yet brought out into the light of his own con-
sciousness.
These two elements — reverence for greatness in
others, and respect for one's own powers — are correla-
tive parts of one virtue : neither is healthy without the
other. I have observed so many instances of the latter
of these two evils, that I venture to give you in a
brief excursus two or three suggestions for its correc-
tion. You will anticipate me in the thought that
306 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xx.
liberty m original production is not to be gained by a
permanent sacrifice oi your own ideals. Cling to your
best ideal of any tiing. Fail with it, if need be, rather
than sacrifice it to success. " Be true to the dreams
of your youth."
A second thought is, that, in a state of mental dejec-
tion through self-depreciation, you should write with
temporary recklessness. The chief thing needed in such
a state of servitude is to write. Do something : create
something. The servitude must be broken through at
all costs. Try your own abilities : give them a chance
to prove themselves. Create, somehow, a little inde-
pendent history of effort to stand upon. Till you can
obtain that, you have no " mv ozco " for the fulcrum of
your self-respect. If you can not obtain it under law,
seize it without law. Be an outlaw in the world of
letters. Violate the rules ; defy principles ; get loose
from shackles; clear your mind of the gear of the
critics ; write defiantly. Give the rein to your powers
of utterance : let them career with you where they will.
Criticise their wild work in your after-thoughts, but
try them again. Apply the curb as they will bear it,
but put the coursers to their speed.
By such a passionate practice you may develop the
germs of your natural forces in composing, be they
what they may. You will discover them ; not much,
probably, to speak of, and less to boast of, but some-
thing worth having and trusting. One Being has
thought them worth an act of creation. You will
know that you have them. The training of them will
come in due time. Robert Southey says, " Write rap-
idly ; correct at leisure." Of one of his own poems he
says, " ' Madoc ' would be a better poem if written in
laccT. XX.] PERSISTENCE IN COMPOSING. 307
six months than if six years were given to it." If be
had said six weeks, instead of six months, he would
have been nearer the truth.
A third suggestion is, that, in a state of mental
despondency, you should write with dogged resolution.
Dr. Johnson says that any man can write who will keep
doggedly at it. Never yield the point that you can
write, and write well. Be indebted to obstinacy, if
need be. Pluck is a splendid virtue. Not only striL e
when the iron is hot, but make it hot by striking.
Mind, like iron, is full of latent heat. It is more
malleable in some cases than in others ; but in all it is
susceptible of white-heat. Therefore make it an inva-
riable rule not to give up a subject of a sermon on
which you have begun to write. A vast amount of
waste of clerical effort is caused by succumbing to dis-
couraged effort. The wasted introductions of sermons
are " an exceeding great multitude." When indicative
of a habit, they signify mental debility. Finish, there-
fore, every thing you undertake, for the sake of the
mental discipline of success. Make something of the
refractory theme and the barren text. The process will
not intoxicate you by its results. You will often floun-
der tlu-ough the sermon, not much wiser at the end
than at the beginning, and hardly knowing how you
got through. You will be sometimes reminded of
Aaron's luckless attempt at statuary. You need not
dance around it; perhaps you will dash it in pieces;
but go through the process of making of it a likeness
to some living thing in the heavens, or in the earth, or
under the earth. You will be the stronger in will-
power over difficult themes, if in nothing else.
Take encouragement from the example of Sir Wil-
liam Hamilton : —
308 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xx.
" There is scarcely a case on record where there existed a greater
antagonism between in author and his pen than in the case of Sir
William Hamilton. In reading his pure and limpid language, it is
hard to realize that he was not a ready writer. But even while
occupying the chair of logic and metaphysics in the University of
Edinburgh, and every day delivering from it those lectures on
metaphysical science which have made him famous throughout the
world, he could never take his pen at any time, and write a certain
required amount. Indeed, he always took up his pen with extreme
reluctance. Owing to this aversion to composition, he was often
compelled to sit up all night in order to prepare the lecture which
was to be the wonder and admiration of every person who heard
it the next day. This lecture he wrote roughly and rapidly, and
it was copied and corrected by his wife in the next room. Some-
times it was not finished by nine o'clock in the morning, and the
weary wife had fallen asleep, only to be wakeful and leady, how-
ever, when he appeared with fresh copy."
One other suggestion is, that you should trust the
predisposition of the world to receive favorably the
work of a young man. You have nothing to fear from
the world's criticism, unless you invite it by self-con-
ceit. The severity of criticism falls on middle-aged
and old men. A young man, and specially if he is a
clergyman, has every facility he can reasonably ask for
for a successful beginning of his life's work. Wait ten
years, and you will yourself marvel at the patience of
your first parish. The " dead line " of " fifty years " is
a long way off. If you live to reach it, you may have
achieved a success which will make you indifferent to
it. If you have not, it will not be owing to any want
of generosity in the verdict of your contemporaries
upon you as a youthful preacher.
LECTURE XXI.
THE PRACTICABILITY OF LITERARY STUDY 10 A PAS
TOR. — PRELBUNARY SUGGESTIONS.
4th, I HAVE thus far endeavored to give you some
ideal of the true study of literature in respect to its
objects, the selection of authors, and the methods of
the study.
The peril attending any such endeavor is, that it will
only awaken in you a sense of the impracticability of
the study to one who is immersed in the cares of a
pastor's life. That is a profitless kind of advice which
only impresses upon its recipients a sense of its useless-
ness to them. I wish to make the hints I have given
you a real help to you, if possible. Therefore, before
leaving this subject, I propose to add some suggestions
upon the 2^'t^cicticahiUty of literary study to a pastor.
1. Let me ask you to observe several preliminary
suggestions respecting a plan of scholarly reading.
(1) It is frankly conceded, as has been already re-
marked in the preface to this volume, that any scholarly
plan of study must, to the majority of pastors, be, to
a greater or less extent, an ideal one. The practica-
bility of it is a matter of degrees, exceedingly variable
at different times, as well as to different persons. The
ideal element must enter largely into any plan that
shall be largely useful. If there are any to whom it
309
310 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xxi.
can be only an ideal, it is not therefore useless, even to
them. The negative value of a loftj ideal of scholarly
life is not to be despised. It may act as a censor of a
preacher's sermons, keeping alive a taste which will
exclude unscholarly methods and material which he
knows to be such, but which he will not avoid, except
through a silent respect for his dumb library. The
very sight of a library of a thousand volumes well
chosen is a stimulus to a pastor who for months may
not be able to read a volume. Says Bishop Hall on
" The Sight of a Great Library," " Neither can I cast
my eye casually on any of these silent masters but I
must learn somewhat."
But the large majority of educated pastors can read
something, if they will. Evidences abound that they
do read very considerably. The charge can not be
sustained against our American clergy, certainly not
against the clergy of New England, that they cease to
be scholars when they become pastors. Look at tlie
reports of " ministers' meetings," and clerical " associa-
tions," and at the pastoral contributions to the weekly
and quarterly press. The subjects there discussed show
that our pastors are men of books as well as men of
affairs. In the meridian of their labors, and at the
head of large and exacting parishes, they do not turn
the key upon their libraries. They are vigilant ob-
servers of the current of scientific and theological
thought around them. The only question is, whether
their reading is regulated by the wisest economy in
choice and methods. One does not beat the air, then,
who endeavors to give to youthful preachers a high and
enduring ideal of a scholarly life. They are entering
into a fraternity of scholars who find time and mental
force for some ideal.
LECT. XXI.] READING AT RANDOM. 311
If further evidence is needed on this point, Ice k to
the puljjits of other lands and times.^ Calvin was as
laborious in the pulpit as out of it. He often preached,
for weeks together, every day in the w^eek ; yet there
are his immense folios to speak for him as a scholar.
Bochart ministered daily while building his "Phaleg"
and " Hierozoicon." Owen was incessant in preaching
while his exposition of the " Hebrews" was in progress.
Lightfoot was faithful to his pastoral duty while he was
amassing his wealth of Talmudic learning. Lardner
and Pye Smith and Hartley Home had pastoral charges
in London. Bloomfield was a vicar. Trench, Alford,
and Ellicott were among the working clergy when they
planned their learned works, and published a part of
them. Stier was a pastor: so was Ebrard. Henry,
Scott, Doddridge, Adam Clarke, were laborious and
able ministers. Kingsley was a hard-working pastor:
so, at one time, was Stanley. These men illustrate, by
their union of pastoral duties with a scholarly life, that
where there is a will there is a way.
But much is gained, if the presence of a scholarly
ideal in the furniture of a pastor's mind achieves no
more than to arrest the habit of reading at hap-hazard.
This is the bane of the existing habit, probably, of the
large majority of educated men. The time we spend
in reading print of some kind is more considerable than
the majority of us suppose. I once inquired of a hard-
worked metropolitan pastor how much time daily, on
the average, he spent in reading of all sorts, aside from
that directly necessary to his preparation for the pulpit.
He replied, " Not an hour." Then, correcting his hasty
count, he said, "Two hours." Again reflecting, said
1 See North British Review for 1860.
312 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xxi
he, "I read the magazines. Yes: three hours and a
half would cover it all." Well, a great deal can be
done in three hours and a half a day. A distinguished
commentator wrote five volumes of commentary in less
than three years, working but three hours and a half
a day. The Rev. Albert Barnes wrote sixteen volumes
in less than an equal number of years, devoting to them
only the hours before breakfast.
But the precious three hours and a half dwindle to
a very small fragment, if one hour is given to the news-
paper, and another to the magazine. They are largely
wasted time, through the habit of reading without plan.
More than time is wasted by it. Mental force is wasted,
and mental debility is invited in the place of it. It is
worth a great deal to a man's whole character as a man
of culture, if that waste is forbidden by a scholarly
ideal of what good reading is. Be it so that scholarly
reading would restrict a pastor to few, some to very
few, volumes in a year ; better that than the wasteful
and debilitating effect of reading at random. Be it
that a pastor can read but ten, five, three volumes in
a year: those few, well chosen and well read, may
make all the difference between a scholar and a boor
in his mental tastes and professional habits. A good
ideal of scholarly reading is not useless, if it can regu-
late T^■isely an imperfect culture.
One good book is a great power in the making of a
youthful mind. Is there not somewhere one man to
whom you expect to be grateful for ever for his forma-
tive power over the development of your mind ? What
is one hook but the mental being of one man? Why
may not your obligations to tt e book be as incalculable
as to t]ie man? Reverently read the one buok, then,
LECT. XXI.] PROFESSIONAL VIGILANCE. 313
if you can do no more. Better this than none at all.
Better thi^ by far than the slipshod mode of life which
befits only indolent minds, and invites an oblivion of
libraries. Oblivion of libraries is akin to softening of
the brain.
To bring to a definite point this vexed question, is
it too much to claim that every educated pastor not
disabled by disease can perpetuate in active life the
amount, if not the kind, of literary culture ivhicli Ids
collegiate curriculum once created in him? Is it not a
decline from that level which commonly creates the
''dead line of fifty"? And is that decline ever a ne-
cessity. '''- Incredulus odi^ In proof I could name to
you an eminent pastor, for forty years in the city of
New York, whose habit through all that time, with rare
and brief suspensions, was to read daily at least ten
lines in some Greek or Latin classic. That simple expe-
dient drew after it, and made practicable to him, other
expedients of culture which kept his mind rich and
full and strong till the day of his death. At seventy
years he had found no " dead line."
(2) The study of books need not be made impracti-
cable by the study of men, which has been so earnestly
recommended. The latter study does not require re-
tirement and mental concentration. It is discursive.
One may pursue it in the streets. Pastoral duty gives
large opportunity for it. It requires chiefly the mental
habit of professional vigilance. Let a pastor live in a
state of alertness towards all resources of oratorical
knowledge, and he will find them in every thing that
he sees and every thing that he hears. That habit
of literary lookout which led Walter Scott to pause in
the street to make note of a new word, and which led
814 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xxi.
Stothard to travel with a pencil tied to his finger, with
which he iiade a drawing of every apple-tree he met
with in a journey, illustrates the state of professional
watchfulness which a pastor needs in his sti dy of men.
Caixy thus the image of your pulpit always with you.
Never give way to an idle mind. Never vegetate.
Hours of physical recreation aside, that is never neces-
sary to a healthy man. Be for ever on the lookout for
tribute to your pulpit. You will find it in every thing,
ever} where. One preacher was once led to correct an
ungainly posture in the pulpit by observing the crooked
gait of a lame man in the street. Another was set
upon a course of voice-building by noticing the resem-
blance of his natural tone to the quacking of a duck.
Live in such a state of professional outlook, and you
may pursue the study of men daily, and yet not take
an hour from the time consecrated to your library.
(3) It should be remarked, further, that some plan
of scholarly reading must be made practicable, if a
pastor would save himself from intellectual decline.
The chief peril of a pastoral office is that of a busy
intellectual stagnation for the want of persistence in
liberal studies. This was the peril which was so fatal,
as Professor Tholuck thought a quarter of a century
ago, to the Protestant clergy of Prussia. It can not
be said to be unknown in this country. In my judg-
ment, the existence of the " dead line of fifty " is not
wholly but chiefly due to it.
It should therefore be a foregone conclusion, when
a young man enters the ministry, that some pLin of
literary study shall be made practicable. Sacrifices
must be made to it, — sacrifices of ease, sacrifices of
needless recreation, sacrifices of notoriety, and sacrifices
LECT. XXI.] EXECUTIVE MISCELLANIES. 315
of pecuniary interests. If a young man does not value
it sufficiently to make such sacrifices to it, it is imprac-
ticable to him.
(4) The best culture for success in the pastoral office
is not consistent with the appropriation of any large
proportion of time to the miscellanies of the church.
I refer here to that department of clerical labor
which is made up of executive affairs. A certain
amount of this is necessary to the fellowship of the
churches : therefore every pastor must so far supervise
it. It would be dishonorable to shirk it. But, outside
of the individual church and its immediate sisterhood,
there is an amount of executive duty, which, as many
practice it, becomes a profession by itself, to which the
pulpit and its tributary studies are subordinated. The
management of institutions, the direction of societies,
the care of the denominational press, leadership in eccle-
siastical assemblies, membership of innumerable com-
mittees, of boards of trust, of special commissions, al]
inflicting an endless amount of correspondence, — these
form a distinct department of clerical labor, and create
a distinct class of clerical workers. There are men, as
you well know, whose chief usefulness is in this line
of service. Their pulpits are secondary to it, and their
libraries are more distant still from their chief ambition.
If one of them were called to account for the neglect
of his library, he could only plead, as did the ancient
prophet of Judaea, "Thy servant was busy here and
there."
It need not be said that this class of clerical wcikers
are performing a very useful and necessary labor, which
somebody must do. Those who drift into it are com-
monly men whose tastes and tact enable them to do it
316 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xxi.
well. They djserve commendation unqualified. But
the point I press at present is this, that this department
of our pjofession is not intrinsically congenial with the
genius of a preacher and the tastes of a scholar. As
a rule, therefore, it must be conducted at a loss of the
highest clerical discipline. Eminence in it can not be
combined with eminence in the pulpit. Some of its
duties can as well be discharged by laymen.
Exceptions to the rule occur, as in the case of Dr.
Chalmers, who, both as a preacher and as an executive,
was a genius. But such cases are not numerous enough
to affect the rule. Every young pastor, therefore,
should canvass and decide for himself the question
whether his mission of usefulness to the church lies
in seeking or accepting any large amount of this kind
of work. The inquiry should be answered early in
his professional career. I very well remember the form
in which it presented itself to my own mind in my early
manhood. I trust to the freedom of the lecture-room
in referring to it for the sake of the glimpse it will give
you of the opinions on the subject entertained by a
considerable class of the older ministry.
The question lay between my immediate entrance
upon a pastoral charge, and my taking a fourth year
of study. The ecclesiastical body under whose direc-
tion I was studying so kindly interested themselves in
my plans as to appoint a committee to express to me
their judgment that I should accept the pastoral ser-
vice without delay. The argument of the committee
was, that a certain moderate average of power in the
pulpit, subordinated to a large inventive faculty in mis-
cellaneous labors, was a more useful ideal of the clerical
life than that of a more able pulpit to which learning
LECT. X351.] EXECUTIVE MISCELLANIES. 817
and studious habits should pay tribute. Letters froia
several very estimable pastors confirmed that counsel.
Said one, "The church needs workers, not students."^
A judge of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts sent
a message to me, saying, "It does not require many
books to convert souls." Of them all, but one man
dissented from the general drift of opinion. He advised
a fourth year of preparatory study. "Lay a broad
foundation," said he, "and then build high."
I saw that the problem covered, not merely one year
or two, but the whole character of my ministry ; in
fact, it was whether I should be a preacher, with the
tastes and the studious habits which a preacher's life
requires, or should make the pulpit an appendage to
a life of miscellaneous activities. I chose the pulpit
and the study. The fourth year at the seminary was
a fraction of a life's plan. I have no inducement to
speak of the results of my choice any further than to
say that I should repeat it if the same alternative were
again before me.
The same question will force itself upon you sub-
stantially, though the form may vary. The miscellany
and the study will array themselves before you as
rivals, and you must choose between them. The board
of directors, the board of trustees, the ecclesiastical
council, the prudential committee, the managers of
this, and the delegation to that, will stand before you
as competitors of your pulpit, and you must make
your selection. Will you be a committee-man, or will
you be a preacher ? Will you be a man of affairs, or
will you be a scholar ? Will you be in demand as the
ubiquitous delegate to councils, or the executive leader
of your presbytery, or will you be a prince in your
818 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xxl
pulpit, with the accessories of culture which that im-
plies ? Every pastor should decide the question with
an enlightened polic}^ knowing what he gives up, and
why. Mediocrity, I admit, can be gained in both
departments of service. But ought any young man
to plan for mediocrity? The world is not suffering for
the want of that commodity.
I think I have seen more deplorable waste of minis-
terial force in needless dissipation of time upon execu-
tive miscellanies than in any other form which has come
under my notice, which did not involve downright indo-
lence. For one thing, you will soon discover, if you
go into this kind of work to any great extent, that it
costs a large amount of time for ten men to do the
work of one. When did ever a committee of ten men
on any thing work fast ? William Jay, the celebrated
pastor at Bath, once said, that, if Noah's ark had been
intrusted to a committee for the building of it, it would
still be on the stocks. It is inherently difficult to secure
unanimity among an able committee, so that work can
go on rapidly. Remember always that j^our most brisk
and efficient work must be solitary work. One hour
in your study is worth three in the committee-room.
You do this miscellaneous work, if at all, at this enor-
mous cost of time.
In this dissuasion from excessive labor upon the mis-
cellanies of the church, you will understand that I
speak of the policy of pastors in old and organized
settlements, to which the majority of you wDl minister.
Missionary labor, and work on the frontier, must, of
course, come under a different regime^ because they
must meet different necessities. One such frontiersman
I could name to you, who is a hero beyond all earthly
LEOT. XXI.] CONSECRATION TO THE PULPIT. 319
fame. He might have been the man of whom the
preacher said, " One man among a thousand have I
found."
The cvmclusion of the whole matter, then, is this:
if in God's providence you are called to the charge of
a well-established church in the midst of such churches,
and if you are led by God's teaching to believe that the
pulpit is the throne of power for you, give yourself to
that pulpit. From it you may speak to less than a
hundred souls. Remember that Jeremy Taylor did
that at Golden Grove. Dr. Chalmers did that at Kil-
many. President Edwards did it at Stockbridge. You
may have as clear a self-knowledge in this respect as
Richard Hooker had when he wrote to his ecclesiastical
superior, Archbishop Whitgift, "I am weary of the
noise and oppositions of this place. God and nature
did not intend me for contentions, but for study and
quietness." And he proceeds to pray that he may be
removed to "some quiet parsonage, where," he saj^s,
" I may see God's blessings spring out of mother-earth."
It was this modest but true self-knowledge which put
it into his power afterwards to write the " Ecclesiastical
Polity," which has brought his name down to our times.
I repeat, therefore, if it is given you to see that the
pulpit is your throne, give yourself to it and to the
scholarly life which is essential to it. Ally your study
with it, and make your home there. Leave executive
bishoprics of the church universal to other hands.
There are men enough who can do that service, whose
tastes develop genially towards it, and whose success
shows that they were created for it. It will never
suffer for the want of aspirants. When did ever an
oftice of executive duty in the church go begging ? li
320 MEN AND BOOKS. [lf^t. xxi.
you have been created for the other thing, do that thing.
Preach ; let other men govern. Preach ; let other men
organize. Preach ; let other men raise funds, and look
after denominational affairs. Preach; let other men
hunt up heresies, and do the theological quiddling.
Preach; let other men ferret out scandals, and try
clerical delinquents. Preach ; let other men solve the
problems of perpetual motion of which church history
is full. Then make a straight path between your pul*
pit and your study, on which the grass shall never grow.
Build your clerical influence up between those two
abutments.
(5) Any plan of clerical study will fail which is not
founded upon a stern physical discipline. You must
know the laws of health, and must observe them, if
you would succeed in a lifelong plan of literary effort.
High culture, like high attainments in piety, depends
largely on a subordination of the body to the mind.
The body needs a gentle training to the endurance of
brain-work. By patient training we can educate the
body to endure double the amount of intellectual labor
which is generally possible to it at the age of twenty-
five years. I need hardly say that no great intellectual
success can be attained by a man whose body is in
subjection to any appetite.
(6) Any plan has little probability of success which
is not assisted by certain moral virtues. You can not
work well with your brains and your heart in conscious
conflict with each other. Especially your intellectual
aspirations must have the approval of your conscience.
If questions of conscience about any thing in your
intellect lal life are yet unsettled, settle them as the
very first duty you have to perform. Agree with thine
LECT. XXI.] UNITY OF SPIRIT, 321
adversary quickly. Your chariot will drag more heavi-
ly than Pharaoh's in the Red Sea, if your conscience
blocks the wheels.
Of the special virtues necessary to a pastor's success
in literary pursuits, the chief are, reverence for literary
work as religious work, persistence in your own work
as that for which God created you, patience with your-
self, incessant prayer for success, and trust in divine
promises of success. The whole business of ministerial
culture needs to be thus baptized in the religious spirit
as absolutely as the administration of the Lord's Supper.
Do not begin it till you can see the truth of this.
Without such moral auxiliaries as these, you must
become an ungodly man in order to succeed. You
must gain unity of soul in one direction or the other.
One reason for the brilliant success in literature of
some intensely irreligious men is that they had rid
themselves of all religious scruples. Their whole being
was a unit in literary pursuits. Goethe and Byron and
Lord Macaulay seem to have been instances of this:
hence their marvelous literary acquisitions, and power
of execution. One reason for the success of Satan in
the dominion of this world is the absolute intellectual
singleness of his being. He concentrates power, with no
drawbacks caused by conscientious relentings, doubts,
scruples. In a moral being, intellectual force pure and
simple, unregulated by moral sensibilities, is Satanic force.
(7) No plan will probably succeed which is not in
Bome miportant features your own. You can not wisely
import whole into your culture the literary advice of
another mind. Take the advice, but take it for what
it is worth to you. Scarcely two men can execute
well the same plan of a scholarly life. Some men
322 MEN AND BOOKS. [lfct. xxi.
have more carburet of iron — the stuff that steel is
made of — in their blood than others. Their mental
constitution is affected by it. Each man, therefore,
must, in some respects, frame his own plan. All that
an instructor can do is to give you hints, principles,
facts from the experience of others. The question is
not what is absolutely the superior plan, but what is
the best for you, with your health, with your power
of mental appropriation, with your amount of time for
literary work, in your parish, and at your age.
The yeomen of the Carolinas framed out of their
own experience and common sense a better plan of
civil government than John Locke framed for them
with the most profound philosophy of the age, and a
thousand years of European experiment in government
at his command. So you are in some respects wiser
than the most learned of your teachers concerning
what you can do in literary culture. You need also
the discipline of forming your own plan to qualify you
to execute any plan.
(8) No plan will be likely to succeed which is
founded upon a scholastic ideal alone. The scholastic
mind can not be, without amendment, a model for the
professional mind. Yours, from the nature of the case,
must be the professional mind. It must be scholarly,
yet not scholastic. Leibnitz, Gibbon, Descartes, Cole-
ridge, Wordsworth, Southey, were by profession literati.
They were nothing else. The experience of such men
needs to be tested by the professional judgment, before
they are applied to men in a profession to which
literary pursuits must be but an appendage. A pastor
ishould frame a plan adapted to professional necessities,
and then he should respect that plan as profoundly as
if it had tlie imprint of a score of universities.
rJiCT- XXI.] CONDITIONS OF BRAIN-FORCE. 823
(9) You should so ai range your plan of study as to
secure as much concentration of effort as is practicable.
It is not wise to have more than one or two great lines
of study planned and in operation at one time. A day
can not be of much value for studious labor, if it is
whittled up into shavings of time. Different depart-
ments of study must be pursued in succession, time
enough being allotted to each to secure the benefit of
continuity. The details of such a plan every man must
devise for himself ; but the principle is invariable, —
that the plan be so adjusted as to obtain mental con-
centration ; and for concentration you must have time
for continuity of impression.
Recent psychological investigations into the condi-
tions of brain-force disclose the fact, that the most
effective force of the brain in continuous labor requires
duality of objects of pursuit. Rest of brain does not
require cessation of work, but change of work. Change
is more restful than idleness. This indicates that the
true economy of power in study is found in having two
lines of study between which the mind may interplay.
(10) You should so form your plan of study that it
can sustain interruptions. Any plan of study in pas-
toral life must be interrupted. Times will occur when
it must be suspended. Awakenings of the popular con-
science may absorb all the mental energy of a pastor
in perpetual production. Our profession is one which
abounds with emergencies. These must be anticipated.
A power of sustained purpose must be cultivated,
which can hold study in reserve when study is imprac-
ticable, and not be demoralized by the suspension. We
must plan for interregnums, so that they shall not
result in anarchy.
324 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xxi.
(11) Your courage in pursuing any plan you may
devise sliould be sustained by the certainty of your
mental growth. You will not always be what you are
now in point of intellectual strength. Growth is your
destiny. Your professional labors will compel growth.
They are more productive of mental enlargement than
the life of a literary man without a profession. The
kind of growth which they v/ill necessitate in you will
re-act with a power which will surprise you upon your
efficiency as a reader. Your power of mental appro-
priation will increase marvelously : hence will come
the faculty of rapid reading. Nothing is more sure to
disclose itself as a result of years of scholarly reading,
and professional composing in alternation, than the gift
of rapid mastery in both. As you will write sermons
rapidly, so you will appropriate books to your stock of
thought rapidly. Some volumes which now would cost
you a second reading you will by and by master with
one. Some which now require a full and cautious
study, by and by you will appropriate by their tables
of contents and their prefaces only.
This destiny of growth should be largely trusted by
a youthful preacher. Without it, his life would be
hopelessly overladen. I well remember, that, when I
began my ministry, a good doctor of divinity said to
me, " Be content to work hard for ten years, and then
you can take it easy." His advice was on a level with
his grammar. He should have said, "Be content to
work hard for ten years, and then you can begin to
work harder ; but it will be with more cheering results."
No other work of God in creation was so grand as the
creation of a man : so notliing else in 11^3 is so grand a
thing aa the growth of a man.
LECTURE XXn.
A PLAN OF PASTORAL STUDY LCT ENGLISH
LITERATUEE.
2. Passing now from the preliminary suggestions
already made, I wish to apply as far as possible the
principles advanced in the preceding Lectures to a plan
for the study of English literature. My aim here is to
give you a method by which substantially the majority
of pastors can make practicable, by dint of self-disci-
pline, a lifelong study of the literature of our language,
which shall be sufficiently productive of results to save
them from intellectual decline.
(1) Run a line of professional reading through the
history of the literature. A line of professional read-
ing should be the backbone of every clergyman's lit-
erary life. I have not here in view the bulk of the
professional literature, but a historic line of it only,.
The advantages of this may all be summed up in one, —
its naturalness. It is natural for a professional man to
make his profession the center of his culture. This is
only adjusting your studies, in form and by design, to
what they will be, and must be in fact. This is the
principle of all wise methods in real life. Necessities
must be first cared for. The spinal cord of real life is
labor to meet necessities. So it should be with literary
pursuits in the midst of professional avocations. A
325
326 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xxn.
pastor will obtain his most valuable knowledge of our
literature by building it up gradually alongside of the
clerical profession.
(2) Pursue collateral lines of reading as they are
suggested by professional studies. Any great trunk of
literature, like that formed by one of the professions,
will be dense with branches running out from either
side, into which study will diverge naturally. For
instance, you can not familiarize yourself with the Eng-
lish pulpit of the seventeenth century without discov-
ering that you must acquaint yourself also with that
most creative period of English history. The Revolu-
tion, the Commonwealth, and the Restoration are in
the heart of it.
By the law of literary association, collateral lines of
reading will branch out in all directions. You will be
surprised to find how large a portion of the entire body
of the literature is covered by the immediate and
obvious lines of collateral study. Let me illustrate
this by a single example. At the first view it appears
unnatural to associate the pulpit with the stage. How
can a pastor's professional reading lead him naturally
to the study of Shakspeare ? I answer. No two things
are more indissolubly connected in English history
than the sermon and the drama. There are one oi
two periods in the history of the English pulpit in
which we can not judge well of it Avithout taking into
account the taste of the people for theatrical displaj's.
Whitefield and Shakspeare are thus brought hand to
hand. The sermons of Bishop Latimer can not be
appreciated otherwise.
(3) Portions of our literature which are remotely
connected with the pulpit should be read by depart-
LECT. XXII.] STUDY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 327
ments. Do not read the plays of Ben Jonson to-day,
and Izaak Walton to-morrow, and Charles Lamb on
Wednesday. Read contmuously for a while by depart-
ments. English poetry, for instance, forms a depart-
ment by itself. A few great divisions will classify the
whole of it. A very few names should be its nuclei.
Beginning with Chaucer (who died in A.D. 1400), ad-
vance two centuries, and you come to Spenser and
Shakspeare, contemporaries. Proceed half a century,
and you overtake Milton, and, a quarter of a century
later, Dryden, who died precisely three hundred years
after Chaucer. A century and a half farther on, you
find Wordsworth, who died four hundred and fifty years
from Chaucer. English poetry can all be gathered in
clusters around these names ; and it is of little moment
with which of them one begins one's study of that
department.
(4) Generally plan to occupy fragments of time
with standard literature. In a pastor's life, fragments
of time must be utilized, or the loss in the aggregate
is immense. Do not be prodigal of Monday mornings :
there is no need of it. We should keep at hand in
our own libraries, on our study-tables, such authors
as the four great poets, such prose-writers as Bacon,
Hooker, Milton, Burke, Butler, Macaulay. The habit-
ual intercourse of our minds with a dozen of the
leading spirits of our libraries, in the freedom of frag-
mentary reading, will create innumerable little feeders
to our culture, which will keep it full and rich and
pure.
(5) Much of the light literature of the language
may be naturally reserved for periods of relief from
professional labor. English fiction has become a very
328 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xxn.
vital department of the national thought. Clergymen
used to ignore it. That is no longer wise, if it ever
was so. We must know it ; but we need not give to it
our most valuable time. It is wasteful to read Charles
Dickens in the midst of a winter's campaign of profes-
sional toil. A healthy mind in a healthy body does
not need such costly recreation : reserve it for vaca-
tions. More than economy of time is thus gained : we
gain sympathy of daily pursuits. Seek mental recrea-
tion from change of mental labor. Do not unbend to
the extreme every day. That is not natural relief to
spring from extreme to extreme. A well-trained mind
husbands its strength most effectively by passing from
a greater to a less degree of mental tension, not to
no tension at all. Remember the physiological law of
duality. We must dare to be ignorant of light litera-
ture till the natural time for it comes in our plan of
life.
(6) I pass on now to give you a line of professional
reading as illustrated from the history of the English
and American pulpit, from which the most that I ex-
pect is, that it may be suggestive to you of some more
minute plan, or some other, yet, for the purpose, an
equivalent plan of your own.
In the following pages I attempt to combine four
feat'jres ; viz., to distinguish the most eminent of Eng-
glish and American preachers, to group these in historic
clusters, to assist your memory of our literature as a
whole by associating these clerical names with their
secular contemporaries, and to arrange these groups in
chronological order. I select only representative names,
and from the most strongly marked periods in the his-
tory of oui' pulpit. Of course a multitude of eminent
LECT. XXII.] ENGLISH PULPIT A.D. 1350-1550. 329
names must be omitted. Of the names which I recite,
I will ask you to underscore those which I shall desig-
nate as specially deserving of study, either as profes-
sional representatives or as literary standards.
The dates I arrange as nearly as possible in the cen-
ter of the public life of the authors clustered around
them, reckoning a quarter of a century on either side
of the date specified. This method is sufficiently
accurate. You will generally find it convenient, in
your attempts to fix dates of authors in your memory,
to associate the name with some central date of author-
ship, rather than the date of birth or death ; unless Dne
of these happens to synchronize with the beginning, or
middle, or end, of a century, as is the case with Chaucer
and Dryden and Wordsworth.
Beginning, then, with the earliest period of the British
pulpit, the first date I name is A.D. 1350. This being
long before the Reformation, the pulpit had scarcely an
existence in England. But one name deserves mention
in so condensed a catalogue as I am attempting to form.
Within a quarter of a century on either side of this
date lay the public life of Johk Wickliffe. Under-
score his name as the only representative of the infancy
of the English pulpit. It may assist our mastery of
the secular literature of the language to note that
Wickliffe was contemporary with Geoffrey Chaucer;
the one sustaining to English preaching the same rela-
tion that the other did to English poetry.
From this period nothing appears to our purpose for
about two hundred years. Note the date A.D. 1550.
Within twenty -five years of this date, before and after,
lay the major part of the public life of William Tyn-
dale, Miles Coverdale, John Knox, Hugh Latimer,
330 MEN AND BOOKS. [i.ect. xxn.
Thomas Cranmer, John Fox, and William Cart-
w right.
The most vital literary activity of the reign of Henry
VIII. was concentrated upon the translation of the
Bible. Upon that the revival of the pulpit hung sus-
pended. It was a question of life and death to preach-
ing. To very few men are the English and American
churches so much indebted through all time as to Tyn-
dale. The " blasphemous beast," as Sir Thomas More
called him, gave to the church the chief model of King
James's Bible. Underscore the name of Tyndale as
the pioneer in the work of translating the Scriptures,
that of Knox as the father of the Scottish Reforma-
tion, that of Latimer as one of the earliest martyrs to
the liberty of the pulpit, and that of Cranmer as the
founder of the Anglican Church.
It may assist uh, in connecting the religious with the
secular literature of this period, to remark the fact that
these men were wholly, or in part, contemporary with
Sir Philip Sidney, the author of the " Art of Poesy,"
and Roger Ascham, the father of English educators;
and to this and the succeeding period belongs the name
of Sir Walter Raleigh.
The next date of importance is A.D. 1600. The
half-century of which this is the center covers substan-
tially the public life of a very small group, of which
Richard Hooker, Dr. Donne, Bishop Hall, and
George Herbert are the chief. Through the whole of
the long reign of Elizabeth the pulpit had to struggle
for leave to be at all. Brilliant as the age was in other
departments, the literature of the pulpit was meager
in the extreme. Queen Elizabeth did not take kindly
to preachers : she *oaid that two in a diocese were an
LECT. xxir.] ENGLISH PULPIT A.D. 1550. 331
ample supply. In London many churches were closed
for the want of preachers. Says Bishop Sandys,
preaching before the Queen, " Many there are who do
not hear a sermon in seven years, I might say in seven-
teen." In Cornwall, Neal says there was not one man
capable of preaching a sermon. At one time the Uni-
versity of Oxford had but three preachers, and these
were all Puritans.
This state of things was the inheritance which the
Church of Rome had bequeathed to the Church of
England. The depreciation of preaching in the Church
of England which exists to-day had its origin then.
Hence, also, arose the extreme poverty of the pulpit at
the date before us. Hooker, the darling of the Church
cf England to this day, is declared, by one of the best-
informed critics of English literature, to sustain to
English prose somewhat of the same relation that
Chaucer sustained to English poetry ; he having writ-
ten the first solid prose-Avork of logical structure, and
clear, forcible style. Bishop Hall was one of the earli-
est writers of laconic and racy English : he has been
called the " English Seneca." The gentle George Her-
bert, the humble country parson, will live long after
his infidel brother. Lord Herbert, is forgotten. This
little group of clerical writers were surrounded by
Shakspeare, Spenser, Beaumont and Fletcher, Philip
Massinger, and Ben Jonson, of dramatic fame ; and
Lord Bacon was their contemporary.
Passing on a little more than half a century, let us,
for the convenience of the synchronizing with the
Restoration of the Stuarts, select the date A.D. 1660.
This year is in the heart of the most eventful period
of English history, and of the golden age of the pulpit
832 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xxii.
as well. Within a quarter of a century of the Resto-
ration, en either side, we find two parallel columns of
great names. In the Established Church appear Arch-
bishop Leighton, Jeremy Taylor, Isaac Barrow,
Archbishop Tillotson, Robert South, Edward Still-
ingfleet, and William Sherlock, all of them men of
great power in their day, and some of them authors
of standards in literature which will live as long as the
language lives. Among the nonconformists we num-
ber Joseph Calamy, Richard Baxter, John Owen,
John Flavel, John Bunyan, Stephen Charnock,
and John Howe. England has not seen since their
day an equal number of men of equal rank in her
pulpits. Contemporary with these galaxies of clerical
genius, it will help our memory of the period as a
whole, to recall John Locke, Sir William Temple, Sir
Thomas Browne, Abraham Cowley, Samuel Butler,
John Dryden, and, princeps inter pares^ John Milton.
A sad decline appears as we advance another half-
century. The revolution of 1688, with the oppressions
which preceded it, and the confusion which followed it,
and the outbreak of infidelity in the persons of Hobbes,
Shaftesbury, and Bolingbroke, greatly depressed the
pulpit. Its ablest productions were controversies with
infidelity. The close of the seventeenth century was
a dark day for the spiritual vitality of both England
and Scotland.
AdDpting the year A.D. 1700 as the next center, we
find before and after it Bishop Lowth, Bishop Atter-
bury, Samuel Clarke, Bishop Hoadley, Ralph
Erskine, Bishop Butler; and, on this side of the
Atlantic, we note the first name which lifts the
American pulpit to the level of that of the mother-
country, in the person of Cotton Mather.
LECT. XXII.] ENGLISH PUI.PIT A.D. 1750-1800. 333
Contemporary with these, wholly or in part, were
the essayists who founded "The Spectator," Addison
and Richard Steele ; the originators of the English
novel, Richardson, Fielding, and Smollett ; also Pope,
Gay, and Prior, noted as the Jacobite wits of the day ;
Ilobbes, Bolingbroke, and Shaftesbury, the trio of noted
freethinkers ; and Congreve, Sir Isaac Newton, and
Bishop Berkeley. Isaac Watts deserves mention as
the first man who redeemed English hymnology from
doggerel, although he wrote not a little of it himself.
Advancing another half-century, we reach the date
A.D. 1750. This was the age of tame politeness in the
Church of England, and the secession of Methodism
from it. Within twenty-five years of this date comes
the public life of Dr. Hugh Blair, Bishop Horsley,
Dr. William Paley, and, outside of the Establish-
ment, Philip Doddridge, John Wesley, George
Whitefield, the senior Edwards, Joseph Bellamy,
Samuel Hopkins, and Samuel Davies.
These numbered among their contemporaries the
club of which Dr. Johnson was the autocrat, including
Goldsmith and Edmund Burke ; the three great histo-
rians of the empire, Hume, Robertson, and Gibbon ;
William Cowper, who wrought a revolution in English
poety ; Dr. Reid, the father of the Scotch philosophy ;
the elder Earl of Chatham, who stood at the head of
parliamentary eloquence ; and Benjamin Franklin.
Advancing to the beginning of the present century
(A.D. 1800), we find not one man in the Church of
England who deserves to rank with the following
names out of it : Andrew Fuller, Robert Hall, John
Foster, Thomas Chalmers, and, in this country,
Dr. Timothy Dwight, Dr. Nathaniel Emmons, Dr.
334 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xxn.
Jonathan Edwards, Dr. John M. Mason, Dr. Edward
Payson, Dr. Edward Griffin, and Dr. William E.
C BANNING.
To this period, for the most part, belong, in secular
literature, Robert Burns and Samuel Rogers ; the Lake
Poets, Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Southey ; also the
earlier group whose names commonly occur together,
Walter Scott, Lord Byron, Shelley, and Keats ; Charles
Lamb, Thomas Moore, Thomas Campbell ; and, in the
Scotch philosophy Dugald Stewart, and Dr. Thomas
Brown. The chief literary revolutions of the time
were Scott's originating of the historical romance, and
Wordsworth's simplifying and humanizing of English
poetry. The latter movement has affected all the
literature of the language since that day: Charles
Dickens could not have existed but for the advent of
Wordsworth.
Adopting one more date, A.D. 1850, we come into
groups of names, some of which are fragrant in the mem-
ory of the living : William Jay ; Dr. Edward Pusey,
the father of the ritualistic re-action in England ;
William Archer Butler ; Archbishop Whately ; Dr.
Henry Melville ; Frederick Robertson ; Dr. Thomas
Guthrie ; Mr. Spurgeon ; and, in this country, Albert
Barnes; Dr. Lyman Beecher; Dr. Nathaniel W. Tay-
lor, the father of the so-called " New-Haven Divinity ; "
Horace Bushnell ; Dr. Charles Finney, the most
noted revivalist of modern times ; Dr. Gregory Bedell ;
Dr. Stephen Olin ; Dr. Francis Wayland ; Dr. James
Alexander ; and Dr. James H. Thornwell, the most
eminent pulpit orator of the southern half of our
Republic.
Contemporary with these names should be associated
LECT. XXII.] OTHER PIISTORIC LINES. 33§
those of Alison, IMackintosh, Hallam, Prescott, and
Motley, as historians ; Macaulay, Carlyle, Jeffrey,
Sydney Smith, Talfourd, De Quincey, and Washington
Irving, as essayists ; Cooper, Thackeray, Dickens, and
Hawthorne, as novelists ; Tennyson, Bryant, Longfel-
low, and Whittier, as poets; and Sir William Hamiltoii
as a metaphysician.
This catalogue of clerical names, you will understand,
I give 3^ou as only a representative one, with which it
is desirable to be acquainted as far as possible. Of
these, I have distinguished about thirty names of men
whose writings and memoirs would give you a very
fair knowledge of the entire history of the pulpit in
our language, so far as that is extant in libraries.
These thirty names a pastor at the meridian of his
labors can make himself acquainted with, even if he will
give to them only fragments of time. It is a kind of
study which does not necessarily demand the severest,
long-continued, and unbroken application. A man of
affairs can make it a supplement to his professional
life.
I would not be understood to limit our method of
beginning the study of English literature to the study
of the pulpit. I advise this only as the most natural
one to a pastor in active life. It is natural to build the
literature around the profession as its center. But
some may find an equally suggestive help in an historic
line of English philosophers from Lord Bacon down-
ward. A similar line of suggestion might be framed on
the history of the English essay. A very superior one
might be drawn, making English poetry the historic
center from Chaucer to Wordsworth.
The least valuable method, in my judgment, is that
836 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xxn.
which is, perhaps, the most frequentl}; chosen. It is the
basis of many abortive attempts to master the bulk of
our literature. I allude to that which arranges the
contents of English libraries along the line of political
history, and associates the illustrious names with the
royal dynasties of England. This method, plausible
in theory, will be found cumbrous in the experiment.
Better by far is it to follow some historic line drawn
within the literature itself, and then make excursions
from that laterally into other departments.
It is of less importance than at first appears, what
specific line be made central. I have chosen that of the
pulpit. But our profession suggests others of perhaps
nearly equal value. Theological science is splendidly
developed in our language. An historic line drawn
in that department would command the professional
enthusiasm of many pastors, for the purposes of study,
more powerfully than the homiletic line. The history
of churchly organization may be more stimulating to
another. The liturgic development in the history of
English thought may be attractive to some. The line
of English commentary on the Bible may be the more
awakening to others. The sway of the English Scrip-
tures over our entire literature is very marked. The
very structure of our language has been in part
modeled by them. It matters little what be chosen
as the central line of research, except that it should,
in the majority of cases, be vrithin the natural range of
the profession, so as to command the zest of profes-
sional enthusiasm, and the unity of mental life, which
the labors of the profession create. Find such a line
of central development in something. Such are the
natural affiliations of all great departments of thought,
LECT. XXII.] AUXILIARY SUGGESTIONS. 3dT
that any one will be found to be suggestive of every
other one. There have been no isolated developments
of the national mind; therefore there are no isolated
representations of it in books. A book -which is a
book is kindred to every other book. Even two such
diverse expressions of genius as English poetry and
English art are in close sympathy with each other. We
have before remarked the natural affiliation of the
English pulpit with the English drama. George White-
field and David Garrick were mutual helpers. Build a
nest, therefore, for your thought anywhere in an Eng-
lish library, and the flight from it to the whole circum-
ference will not be unnatural, or on weary wings.
I add in closing, without extended remark, several
auxiliary suggestions.
It is not necessary for your purpose to read very
largely in any one author, except those of inspired
authority.
It is not necessary to read an equal amount in all.
It is not necessary to read in chronological order. A
beginning can be made in the middle. One method
recommended by some critics is to begin with the
present time, and read backward.
The more distant an author is from our own times,
as a general rule, inspiration aside, the less important
is that author to modern culture. This is the reason
why, in the list given in the foregoing pages, the most
recent group is the most numerous.
In some instances, the preachers named in this cata-
logue have not left a large collection of sermons in
print. This is true of Whitefield and Tyndale. Our
knowledge of their public ministry must be obtained
from their memoirs, and the history of their times.
333 MEN AND BOOKS. [lect. xxn.
Their influence on the history of the pulpit is too
important to permit the omission of their names.
In the reading of sermons, a few specimens thor-
oughly criticised are more valuable to our culture than
volumes read for purposes of literary refreshment.
For mental quickening in the act of composing ser-
mons, one should follow eclectically one's own tastes.
If the forty-seventh proposition of Euclid starts your
mind upon a track of original invention, study that
proposition. Find out by experiment what will arouse
your thinking power, and make it articulate, and then
study that. The range of your mental affinities, as I
have before remarked, will surely widen. The floricul-
turist sets a geranium to sprout in a very small recep-
tacle ; but it soon outgrows its birthplace. So an
intellectual taste will expand beyond the scope of its
germ. Nothing is more sure to grow.
Pursuing literary study by any plan equivalent to
the one here recommended, you will not fail of a very
encouraging success. Progress will be slow at the
first, but it will increase in speed as you advance.
Your power of mental appropriation will grow im-
mensely as you approach middle life. It is no cause
for discouragement, if its full growth is long delayed.
Some of the richest fruits of autumn are the late fruits.
So are there minds which are richly endowed by nature,
but which develop slowly. Whenever your maturity
does appear, be it late or early, you will be able to read
rapidly. Many valuable books you will be able to
master without a plodding pace through the whole of
them. Fragmentary reading of them will suffice. In
the maturity of a man's culture, if it has been wisely
regulated, and vigorously nurtured, very few books
LECT. XXII.] IMAGINARY CRITICS. 339
demand of him a reading entire. That which he brings
to a book will often be so large a proportion of what he
finds in it, that he has only to give a glance of recogni-
tion to many pages, and pass on.
Even a little of such reading as is here advised,
though sadly unsatisfactory to your growing tastes, will
still keep alive, as nothing else can, a scholar's vigilance
over your sermons, and make them worthy of a schol-
ar's hearing. One of the most eminent of the Presby-
terian pastors of New York, of the generation just now
passing away, was once inquired of how he could have
made his habits of argument in the pulpit so uniformly
exact, without even a momentary slip in his logic ; for
such was the reputation of his masterly pulpit. He
replied, that he was accustomed to imagine a legal mind,
like that of Daniel Webster, among his hearers, and
he aimed never to present in his pulpit a train of reas-
oning to which the great jurist could object. Every
preacher needs such imaginary critics of his sermons.
We can find them in the silent friends who throng our
libraries. Make a friend of every good book you own.
" There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother."
INDEX
Accumulation not the chief object
of a scholar's life, 20.
Acquisitive reading compared with
philosophical methods, 279.
Adaptation to professional labor,
111.
one object of literary study, 111.
the study of it must form the
clergy, 112.
Adaptations, Jesuit theory of them,
111.
Addison, Joseph, state of masses
in England in his time, 37.
his charge of affectation upon
English literature, 197.
Adolphus, Gustavus, his battle-
song, 242.
Affectations in literature, 195.
Affinity, law of, in the choice of
clerical labor, 118.
Africa, life of a missionary in, 119.
** Agawam, Simple Cobbler of,"
quoted, 153.
Ages, dark, the work of the Euro-
pean mind at that time, 124.
Alexander, Dr. James, quoted, 61.
Allegory illustrative of the three
great literatures of Europe, 282.
Allston, Washington, his fastidious
taste, 298.
Amateur studies, peril of selfish-
ness in them, 153.
American literature, intrinsic mer-
its of it, 178.
its English affinities, 181.
its poetry compared with that of
England, 179.
American poetry in action, 179.
American pulpit, the question of
its decline, 180.
American theology as judged by
German scholars, 190.
American theologians have been
eminent preachers, 187.
Amusements, Christian theory ol
them, 22.
Ancient classics in the American
college, 149.
ideal of a liberal education, 83.
Analytic reading, 276.
Angelo, Michael, his mode of pro-
fessional working, 299.
Anglicizing foreign literatures, 157.
Anglo-Saxon language not spoken
out of Great Britain, 163.
Anomalies in literature, 274.
Antiquity of biblical history, 229.
of Hebrew jurisprudence, 230.
of Hebrew poetry, 230.
of Hebrew prophetic literature,
231.
of the Book of Job, 231.
of the Book of Ruth, 231.
reverence of the human mind for
it, 228.
Aristotle and Plato one in their
final influence, 108.
Arnold, Dr. Thomas, his advice to
a young preacher, 210.
affection of him for Aristotle, 104.
his conversational powers, 213.
his opinion of censorious critics,
304.
his opinion of Coleridge's "Lit-
erary Remains," 155.
his opinion of making literature a
profession, 155.
his opinion of reading inferior
authors, 144.
his self-distrust, 299.
Arnold, Matthew, his opinion of
authors in relation to their
times, 289.
Art, resemblances between it and
literature, 283.
Artists, American, in Italy, 299.
Asiatic literatures in comparison
with modern, 161.
341
342
INDEX.
Asiatic races, their intellectual
prospect, 2o5.
Assassiuatiou of President Lincoln,
28.
Assimilation, identity of opinions
not necessary to it, 107.
to great minds, the work of time,
110.
to the genius of authors, 105.
essential to originality, 106.
illustrated in the history of
" Christabel," 106.
Atheism, its character in England,
244.
its obligation to the Bible, 244.
Athenian architecture, the Doric
column, 108.
Athens, relation of the people to
the drama, 43.
Atonement, unlimited, 262.
unscriptural ways of preaching
it, 261.
Author, his book a part of his char-
acter, 270.
his dependence on the age he
lives in, 289.
Authors, acquaintance with them
in their works, 270, 273.
compensation to them, 39.
perpetuity of their influence, 139.
secretive in their works, 270.
" Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table,"
its origin, 213.
Awakenings, religious, begin in
the lower classes, 46.
study of them, 11.
Bacon, Lord, his opinion of critical
studies, 273.
Barnes, Albert, his habits of study,
312.
Beecher, H. W., his "Life-
Thoughts," 297.
Belles-lettres, its effeminate mean-
ing, 192.
Bible, the, contains the oldest
known literature, 228.
debt of English atheism to it,
244.
debt of infidelity to it, 243.
debt of living literatures to it,
238.
debt of the English language to
it, 240.
in what consists its literary supe-
riority, 249.
its educating ]>ower, 259.
its influence in various poems,
240.
its influence on art, 243.
Bible, the, its influence on deliber,
ative eloquence, 242.
its influence on human liberty,
251.
its literature a literature of the
future, 254.
its methods of reform, 252.
its prtwer over thinking minds,
239.
its professional value to a preach-
er, 256.
its relation to Oriental civilizar
tion, 232.
its symmetry of doctrine, 253.
its variety and excellence of
styles, 253.
the intrinsic superiority of bibli-
cal models, 247.
the neglect of it by modern lit-
erary taste, 225.
the number of commentaries
upon it, 239.
the study of it as classic literature,
224.
the study of it in American col-
leges, 225, 227.
theological and biblical forms
compared, 257.
what do we mean by its literary
superiority? 247.
Bolingbroke, Henry St. John,
Burke's imitation of him, 301.
Books, a multitude of them worth-
less, 128.
Bookworms, their uselessness, 132.
Bossuet, Jacques B., his use of
Homer, 303.
Breadth of culture promotes depth,
201.
Britain, Great, intermingling of
races in its population, 162.
its relation to the Anglo-Saxon
language, 163.
"Brook Farm," one cause of its
failure, 216.
Brougham, Henry, criticism by and
of, 103.
his opinion of Sheridan, 284.
Brown^ Dr. Thomas, his habit of
composing, 297.
Brownson, Orestes A., his opinion
of Catholic theologians, 265.
Bryant, William Cuiren, indebted-
ness of the " Thanatopsis " to
the Scriptures, 240.
Buffon, George L., his rapture in
composing, 154.
Burke, Edmund, compared with
Sheridan, 284.
INDEX.
843
Burke, Edmund, his early passion
for Milton, 104.
his essay on " Tlic Sublime and
Beautiful," 8(J.
his imitation of Bolingbroke,
301.
his "Letter to the Sheriffs of
Bristol," 80.
his study of men, 80.
the cause of his failure as a
speaker, 284.
Byron, indebtedness of his " Cain "
to the Bible, 243.
the effect of "Christabel" upon
him, 107.
the indebtedness of his "Dark-
ness " to Jeremiah, 240.
Calvinism improved bv theologians
of New England, is<).
Campbell, Thomas, Scott's opinion
of him, 305.
Canova, Antonio, his ojDinion of
English art, IGi).
Cant in literature, 195.
in religion and in literature com-
pared, 196.
Caricature of the English clergy,
77.
of the secular parson, 25.
Carlyle, Thomas, his address at the
University of Edinburgh, 133.
his affectation in style, 190.
his opinion of great men, 304.
his opinion of "The Mayflower,"
179.
servitude of some literary minds
to him, 203.
Caste in churches, an example of
it, 80.
Catechetical instruction in Sweden,
203.
Catechism, serial preaching on it,
260.
Catholic theologians criticised by
Orestes A. Brownson, 2(55.
Chalmers, Dr. Thomas, his early
judgment of himself, 114.
his executive abilities, 316.
his opinion of the power of Chris-
tianitv, 204.
his style, 299.
servitude of the Scottish pulpit
to him, 202.
Character, a preacher's study of
his own, 5.
of a preacher full of oratorical
suggestions. 4.
unreal portraits of it in the pul-
pil , 20.
Chatham, Earl of, disappointment
in reading his speeches, 21! ».
" Christabel," its influence on other
poets, 107.
Christian experience and scholar-
ship, their relation, 267.
Christianity, condescending in its
aims, 60.
false applications of, to real life,
23.
its influence on modern civiliza-
tion, 239.
Choate, Rufus, his style, 103.
Church, tluv and the world, dis-
tinct, 70, 73.
Churchly distinction obscured, 71.
Cicero, his opinion of rhetorical
study, 92.
servitude of Italian scholarship
to him, 202.
" Ciceronianus," by Erasmus, 202.
Clarkson, Thomas, his publishing
in Latin, 293.
Classes, ambition of preachers re-
specting the higher classes, 117.
mutual repulsion of, 80.
" Classic," limitation of the term,
150.
Clergy, the, and priesthood, dis-
tinct, 54.
consequence if they are isolated
from the people, 75.
exclusive, 69, 73, 78.
not ex oflcio superiors of the peo-
ple, 63.
of England, 77.
of New England scholarly, 310.
often hostile to progress, 54.
the natural leaders of the people,
52.
their ignorance of the world al-
leged, 26.
their neglect of popular changes,
58.
their influence reflexive, 67.
their temptations to a narrow
culture, 207.
worldly ambition a peril, 79.
Clergymen, eccentric, the study of
them, 33.
Clerical influence moral more than
intellectual, 63.
office more than a profession, 119.
Coffee-houses of London, 87.
Coleridge, S. T., early history oi
" Christabel," 106.
his opinion of great authors, 140.
his opinion of Greek literature,
166.
844
INDEX.
ColeriJi^e, S. T., his opinion of
^YoVds\vo^th, 138.
his opinion of specific preaching,
29.
his translations of Schiller, 147.
Dr. Arnold's opinion of his "Lit-
erary Remains," 155.
Collateral reading;. 289.
Collegiate education, ancient class-
ic's in, 149.
Comfort, the mission of, 29.
Common people, a preacher must
know their speech, 216.
Comparison of authors in our read-
ing, 281.
involuntary, 281.
the effect of it on our views of
national literatures, 281.
the effect of it on our judgment
of departments in literature,
282.
unites names in literature with
names in art, 282.
Compensation of authors for their
books, 40.
Composite mind of England, 162.
Composition, associatmg it with
reading, 295.
choice hours of composing, 102.
dailv composition a necessity,
302.
executive skill in it a high art,
102.
persistence in difficult compos-
ing, 307.
reckless, 306.
promotes invention, 297.
Concentration necessary to success
in study. 323.
Conference-meeting compared with
the pulpit, 214.
Conscience in study, 209, 320.
unenlightened in the ministry,
208.
Conservatism of the clergy often
extreme, 54.
Consociation of churches in Massa-
chusetts in liy6'2, 185.
Controlling minds in literature, 136.
enumerated, 137.
objection to reading them, 146.
in classic Greek literature, 137.
in English literature, 138.
in German literature, 138.
in Hebrew literature 137.
in Hellenistic Greek literature,
137.
Conversation, Dr. Johnson as a
conversationalist, 213.
Conversation, eloquence ahounds
in it, 212.
of illiterate men, one form of lit-
erature, 215.
Cooper, James F., his rank as a
novelist, 180.
Corneille, Pierre, his use of the
Latin classics, 303.
Cowper, William, criticism of
*' There is a fountain,'" etc., 274.
Montgomery's edition of his
hymn, 275.
obligations of "The Task" to
the Scriptures, 240.
Creeds, origin and character of the
historic creeds, 257.
sermons formed under their in-
fluence, 2G0.
tested by the common sense of
the people, 74.
their expression of human re-
sponsibility, 258.
Crises in history, their power to
create unwritten literature, 213,
Critical reading, 270.
illustrated. 272.
not petty, 272.
Criticism.'censorious, 304.
generous, 304.
and production reciprocal in their
action, 295.
and executive power dispropor-
tioned, 298.
Cross-purposes in the ministry, 114.
Cultivated classes grouped, 4*5.
Culture, enlarged by the study of
the best authors, 141.
not ignored by the Providence of
God, 51.
its relation to opinions, 109.
sympathetic with all other cul-
'ture, 201.
Curran, John Philpot, his study of
men, 87.
Curtis, George William, his opinion
of rhetorical study, 93.
Dante, Prescott's opinion of the
"Inferno," 147.
Dark ages, state of the European
mind at that time. 124.
Delay in taking the lead of popu-
lar reforms, 54.
Demagogism of Patrick Henry, 90.
Democratic, the divine way of
working, 52.
De Quincev, Thomas, extract from
his " Essay on Pope," KU.
his distinction between different
literatures, 164.
INDEX.
345
De Quincey, Thomas, liis opinion
of the study of langua;?e, 150.
Depravity illustrated in literary
neglect of the Bible, 22G.
Descartes, liis place in the litera-
ture of France, 138.
De Tocqueville, 2;j0.
Directness in the pulpit, 29.
Discovery of principles of efEective
speech, 98.
Disraeli, Benjamin, his opinion of
extensive reading, 122,
Distinctions, moral subordinated to
social, 78.
Division of labor in reading, 27G.
illustrations of it, 277.
influence of it upon extent of
knowledge, 279.
Doctrine, Christian, the clergy its
natural guardians, fX).
Doric column, a peculiarity in its
structure, 108.
Douglas, Stephen A., compared
with Edward Everett, 10.
Drama, Guizot's opinion of the
French and English, 105.
Dryden, John, his indebtedness to
Tillotson, 104.
Duality, the physiological law in
study, 323.
Earnestness, all men in earnest
about something, 213.
Eccentric ministers, study of them,
33.
Economy of time in reading, 143.
Educated classes, the clergy, when
identifled with them, oi.
Education, ideal of it in ancient
times, 83.
ideal of it in England, 84.
ideal of it in the middle ages, 84.
Edwards, President, Frederick
Robertson's opinion of him,
190.
the power of his preaching mys-
terious, 294.
Edwards, Professor, B. B,, his illus-
trations of the influence of the
Scriptures, 240.
his hint respecting antediluvian
poetry, 230.
Elizabeth, Queen, condition of the
pulpit in her reign, .330.
Eloquence disappointing to subse-
quent generations, 219.
false conceptions of it from
printed literature, 220.
its representative character, 217.
of real life, 218.
Eloquence utters the thovight of
the hearer, 217.
Emergencies, the popular judg-
ment of the pulpit in them,
69.
Emerson, R, "W., his use of trans-
lations, 140.
his opinion of conversational
literature, 212.
England, ideal of a liberal educa-
tion in, 84.
reception of Whitefield in, 68,
English aristocracy, their admira-
tion of Homer, 38.
English authors and people con-
trasted, 39.
English language, its debt to the
Scriptures, 240.
English literature, a Christian
literature, IGG.
a literature of constitutional
freedom, 1G7.
a Protestant literature, 167.
a well-balanced literature, 160.
an approximation to a popular
literature, 172.
an expression of composite order
of mind, 1G2.
character of it, 37-40.
compared with ancient litera-
tures, IGl.
compared with the French and
German, 173.
Dr. J. H. Newman's opinion ol
it, 1G7.
European opinion of it, 165.
intrinsic superiority of it, 160.
its claim to the title " classic."
150.
its oratorical department, 174.
leading representatives of it, 138.
maturity of it, 171.
plan of a pastor's studies of it,
.325.
predominance of it in a pastor's
studies, 148.
restriction of reading to it de-
fended, 148.
English mind, character of it, 16.3.
English neglect of the fine arts,
Canova's explanation, 169.
English poetry, grouping of the
great poets, 327.
English pulpit compared with the
French and German, 175.
of the seventeenth century, 291.
English Revolution of 1648, com-
pared with the French of 1789,
170.
346
INDEX.
Ensclish Universities, state of litera-
ture when tbey were founded,
14!).
Enthusiasm, professional, 193.
Episcopal Church, its relation to
the educated classes, 04.
its litany more powerful than its
pulpit, 05.
Erasmus, his prejudice against
modern languages, 292.
his satire on the literary autoc-
racy of Cicero, 202.
Essay and oral speech, the differ-
ence illustrated, 221.
opinion of Charles James Fox,
221.
Everett, Edward, his rank as an
orator, 180.
his description of Webster,
283.
compared with Stephen A. Doug-
las, 10.
Exclusive church illustrated, 80.
Exclusive churches their working
and its results, 62.
Exclusive ministry, consequences
of it, if general, 78.
effect on churchly distinctions,
73.
has no power of conquest, 73.
its loss of power over all classes,
61.
weakness of it, 69.
"Excursion, The," Jeffrey's criti-
cism of it, 101.
Excursus on literary affectations,
195.
on the contrast between biblical
and theological forms, 257.
on the difference between the
essay and the speech, 221.
on the evil of self-depreciation in
composition, 305.
on the New-England theology,
185.
on the peril of wasted life in the
ministry, 112.
on the selfish ideal of a scholarly
life, 153.
on the temptations of the clergy
to narrow culture, 207.
Executive miscellanies of the
church, 315.
skill in composition a high art,
102.
" Faerie Queene," the, its obliga-
tions to the Scriptures, 240.
Familiarity with principles of effec-
tive speech, 101.
Fanaticism founded always on a
truth, 51.
Fanatics not benefited by preach-
ers of their own class, 6.
Favorite authors, their influence,
105.
Favorites in literature to be read
with caution, 200.
Fenelon, his use of the ancient class-
ics, 303.
Ferdinand, king of Naples, hia
speech to the rabble in sign-
language, 219.
Fiction, the clergyman of the novel-
ist, 24.
Fine arts in England, Canova's
opinion of them, 109.
Foreign languages, study of, De
Quincey's opinion of, 159.
literatures Anglicized, 157.
literatures, the i^rejudice in favor
of them, 148.
missions, the original idea of con-
ducting them, 152.
Forgiveness, nature and the Scrip-
tures contrasted respecting it,
202.
Foster, John, quotation from him,
38.
Fox, Charles James, his opinion of
the difference between essay
and speech, 221.
his study of men, 87.
Franklin, Benjamin, his hearing of
Whitefield, 99.
Freedom of the human mind in
inspiration, 248.
of the will, its subjection in his-
toric creeds, 258.
French boarding-schools criticised,
153.
French literature, 137.
the influence of Voltaire on it,
137.
not a popular literature, 173.
Fronde, James, his opinion of mak-
ing literature a profession,
155.
his opinion of works of genius,
40.
Gasparin of Barziza, his study of
Cicero, 125.
Germany, infidel reforms in, 56.
popular revolutions in, 55.
German literature, leading repre-
sentatives of it, 137.
its affectations, Menzel's opinion,
197.
not a popular literature, 173,
INDEX.
347
Gibbon, Edward, his classification
of critics, 304.
his metliod of reading, 134.
Goldsmith, Oliver, and the ** Lit-
erary Club," 200.
Gray, Thomas, his use of Spenser's
" Faerie Queene," 303,
Greek drama, resemblances of it
to the pulpit, 43.
literature, leading representatives
of it, 138.
pantomime, its intelligibility and
power, 219.
Griffin, Edward Dorr, his early
judgment of himself, 114.
Growth of the power of mental ap-
propriation, 324.
Guizot, Fran(;ois Pierre, his criti-
cism of Shakspeare, 85.
his opinion of affectation in
French literature, 197.
his opinion of the French and
English drama, IGo.
Gymnasia of Germany, criticism of
the Scriptures in them, 227.
Hall, Bishop, his thought on the
sight of a library, 310.
Hall, Robert, his criticism of his
own style, 272.
his servility to Dr. Johnson in
his youth, 202.
Hamilton, Sir William, his diffi-
culty in composing, 308.
Harvard College, its earlj' teaching
of the sacred languages, 227.
Hawthorne, Nathaniel, his charac-
ter in his works, 271.
his place in English literature,
138.
theology of the "Marble Faun,"
262.
Hebrew jurisprudence, its antiqui-
ty, 230.
literature, leading representa-
tives of it, 137.
lyric poetry, its antiquity, 230.
prophetic literature, its antiquity,
231.
psalmodv, its influence on Eng-
lish history, 242.
psalmody, its influence on mod-
ern hy'mnology, 241.
Hellenistic Greek literature, its
leading representatives, 137.
Hengstenberg, Ernst W., his sup-
port of despotic re-action, 56.
Henry, Patrick, his motto respect-
ing studies, 17.
his methods of studying men, 90.
Henry VIII. of England, litera-
ture during his reign, 330.
Hercules, the torso, 97.
Herbert, George, his use of Latin
quotations, 293.
Holmes, Dr. O. W., his conversa-
tional power, 213.
the origin of "The Autocrat of
the Breakfast-table," 213.
Homer's " Iliad," admiration of the
Englisli aristocracy for it, 38.
Homely literature, 215.
Hooker, Richard, estimate of his
relation to Englisli prose, 331.
his judgment of himself and his
adaptations, 319.
Humboldt, Alexander, his opinion
of William Prescott, 180.
Hymnology, its debt to the Hebrew-
psalmody, 241.
"Hypochondriac" pastor, an ex-
ample, 80.
Hysteria in revivals, 267.
Ideal of the studies of a pastor
necessary to any plan of study,
309.
the negative value of an ideal
plan of study, 310.
Ignorance of the world among the
clergy, 26.
Illustrative power, want of it in
preaching, 285.
excess of it in preaching, 286.
Imitation of authors in disciplinary
composition, 300.
Impracticable plans of study, 315-
322.
Incidents, biographical, illustrating
rhetorical principles, 3.
Individual character is power in
speech, 8.
Infidelity and reform, 54.
in Germany, and re-actions from
it, 56.
in the United States, its debt to
the Scriptures, 244.
Influence, clerical, the law of it,
119.
Inspiration, its bearing on the
literary merit of the Scriptures,
247.
not a protection against literary
defects, 247.
Integrity of intellect, 199
Intellectualism, those who preach
it not moved by it, 7.
Intensity of biblical thought, 249.
of moral excitement in the min-
istry, 207.
348
INDEX.
Jay, William, his opinion of com-
mittees, 318.
Jeffrey, Frauds, his criticism of
Words wortli, 101, 284.
"Jerks, the," in the religious ex-
citements of the West, 267.
Jesuits, their theory of adaptation
between men and work, 111.
Job, the Book of, its antiquity,
231.
Johnson, Dr. Samuel, and the " Lit-
erary Club," 200.
his colloquial power, 213.
his opinion of the acquisitions of
the ancients, 279.
his opinion of the English vocabu-
lary, 171.
his opinion of the habit of dogged
composing, 307.
his reading the story of Ruth, 231.
his tyranny over a class of minds,
202.
Jones, Sir William, his method of
composing, 303.
Jugglers, literary, examples, 197.
Juvenile culture, characteristics of
it, 194.
tastes, 99.
Knowledge, literature of, distinct
from that of power, 129.
Kentucky Presbyterian camp-
meetings, 267.
Laplace's "Mechanique Celeste"
used for mental quickening, 98.
Lascari, the, of Sweden, 264.
Latin and English, example of dis-
proportion, 95.
Latimer, Bishop, his use of Latin
forms, 291.
Laymen, their criticism of the pul-
pit, 31.
Leadership in reforms, a preroga-
tive of the clergy, 52.
a question of dates, 57.
delay in assuming it, 54.
often assumed by infidelity, 54.
should be assumed early, 57.
Leadership, spiritual, sacrificed by
neglect of it in reforms, 61.
Leading minds in history, their
study of men, 83.
Liberality of profound culture, 109.
Liberty, ' the English a literature
of,' 167.
Tancoln, President, his assassina-
tion, 28.
quotation from him, 48.
Literary jugglers, 197.
labor and literary leisure, 98.
Literature, American, an offshoot
of the English, 181.
and science not distinct in the
term " models," 97.
homely forms of it, 215.
in conversation, 212.
not technically restricted, 137.
not made for the masses, 36.
of power and of knowledge, 164.
of the past and of the future, 254.
the good sacrificed to the better,
144.
the object of its study is disci-
pline, 98.
the preacher's culture like that
of other professional men, 97.
theology liberalized by it, 142.
unwritten, its representative
character, 217.
unwritten, should be studied, 211.
unwritten, the magnitude and
variety of it, 212.
Locke, John, his plan of govern-
ment for the Carolinas, 322.
Lord's Supper, the disuse of it in
some churches, 71.
Lytton, Bulwer, his advice to a
young author, 11.
Macaulay, T. B., his opinion of cer-
tain political instruments, 259.
his opinion of rhetorical study,
92.
his opinion of revolutions in
England, 170.
Mackintosh, Sir James, his judg-
ment of young men, 123.
Macpherson's "Ossian," its first
influence, 229.
"Madoc," Southey's opinion of its
composition, 306.
" Marble Faun," its doctrine of sin,
262.
Marot, Clement, influence of his
hymns, 242.
Marsh, Dr. G. P., his opinion of
original races of Britain, 163.
his opinion of vernacular lan-
guages, 151.
Masses, the, exclusion of authors
and readers from them, 37.
in the time of Addison, 37.
literature not made for them, 36.
"Mayflower, The," a poem in act,
179.
Mental integrity, 199.
servility, 202.
Menzel, \Yolfgang, his opinion of
affectation in German litera-
ture, 197.
INDEX.
349
Menzol, "Wolfgang, his opinion of
bad books, 128.
Mctbods of a pastor's study, 209.
Methodism, its ancient spirit im-
paired, 79.
Middle ages, the ideal of educa-
tion in them, 84.
Milton, John, Burke's early criti-
cism of him, 105.
his abandonment of his journey
to Athens, 155.
his use of the Greek classics, 303.
Wordsworth's criticism of him,
140.
Ministry, an aggressive, 36.
an inefficient, 34.
Mirabeau, his study of men, 87.
Miscellanies of the Church a hin-
derance to study, 315.
Misjudgments of one's self, 121.
Mission chapels a doubtful device,
79.
Missions, foreign, the original idea
of conducting them, 152.
Mistakes in the choice of a profes-
sion, 112.
Models, extension of the term, 96.
not limited to literature as dis-
tinct from science, 97.
superior to rhetorical treatises,
104.
" Moderate" ministry of the Church
of Scotland, 209.
Montgomery, James, his edition of
Cowper's hymn, 275.
Moody, evangelist, 68.
Moral virtues necessary to success
in study, 320.
Naples, speech of King Ferdinand
in the language of signs, 219.
Napoleon, his study of men, 88.
his opinion of the Eastern races,
236.
National literatures, exclusive, con-
trasted with the pulpit, 41.
Negro congregations, their criticism
of preachers, 66.
New-England Colonies, absence of
large libraries, 186.
independent character of the col-
onies, 185.
theology constructed by preach-
ers, 187.
theology molded by religious
awakenings, 188.
not Calvinism, 189.
originality of it, 184.
" New School " and " Old School "
theology in New England, 185.
New Testament, the sale of the re.
vised version, 239.
Newman, Dr. J. II., his opinion of
English literature, 167.
Niebuhr, his opinion of affectation
in German literature, 197.
Novalis's deiinition of painting,
99.
Numbers the chief idea in the di-
vine estimate of man, 52.
Objects of the study of books, 96.
Oblique usefulness, 115.
" Old Mortality," 71.
Opinions and culture, their relation
to each other, 109.
Opposites in literary character,
sympathy with them, 108.
Optimism and Pessimism illustrat-
ed, 20.
Oral address and essay, difference
illustrated, 221.
address not fully represented in
print, 218.
eloquence disappointing to the
next generation, 219.
Orator, spokesman of his hearers,
217.
the first in the order of time, 1.
Oratorical culture, the sources of
it,l.
study, opinions adverse to it, 92.
Oriental civilization, its relation to
the Scriptures, 232.
mind, its future destiny, 235.
races not dying out, 233.
" Ossian," its first influence on Eng-
lish literary taste, 229.
Oxford University, preaching in
the time of Queen Elizabeth,
331.
Painting, American artists in Italy,
299.
Pantheon, a symbol of the pulpit,
42.
Pantomime, its power in Greek and
in Italian usage, 219.
Park, Dr. E. A., his Shakspeare
Club, 208.
Parker, Theodore, his character,
246.
his leading ideas, 247.
his obligation to Christian civili-
zation, 246.
Parliament, English, use of classic
quotations, 182.
Partisanship in culture outgrown,
109.
Pascal, Blaise, his change of profes-
sion, 113.
350
INDEX.
Pastoral duty auxiliary to the pul-
pit, 9.
Pastors, examples of scholarship
among them, 311.
Pathological phenomena in revi-
vals, 267.
Pedantry in sermons illustrated,
291.
Perfunctory preaching, 23, 24.
Perpetuity of great authors, 139.
Persistence in difficult composi-
tion, 307.
Personal history, neglect of, by
preachers, 5.
Pessimism and Optimism illustrat-
ed, 20.
Philosophical criticism, its effect
on juvenile opinions, 276.
method of reading, 273.
servitude, 20i.
Physiological laws, their relation
to national minds, 162.
" Pilgrim's Progress, The," early
reception of it in England, 51.
Plagiarism, 199.
Plans of study necessarily ideal,
309.
negative value of ideal plans, 310.
Plato and Aristotle one in final in-
fluence, 108.
Plato, his travels, 84.
Pliny, his opinion on hooks, 145.
Pocock, Edward, criticism on his
preaching, 293.
Poetry, American aad English,
compared, 179.
English, grouping of authors, 327.
in action, 179.
mistaken self-estimates concern-
ing it, 116.
Police, superintendent of, his opin-
ion of the clergy, 26.
Political preaching,'^27, 28.
Pope, Alexander, De Quincey's es-
say on him, 164.
his use of Dryden, 303.
obligation of "The Messiah" to
the Scriptures, 240.
Popular idea of a clergyman, 21,
26.
literature, none exists, 36.
mind, its unsettled state, 49.
revolutions begin in lower class-
es, 45, 46.
revolutions, independent of the
upper classes, 44.
revolutions, relations of the cler-
gy to them, 49-61.
rights balanced by duties, 53.
Portraits of character in the pul-
pit, unreal, 26.
Power, literature of, distinguished
from that of knowledge, 164.
Powers of control in literature,
135.
designated, 137.
enumerated, 136.
Practicability of study to a pastor,
309.
examples, 311.
some plan made practicable, 314.
not conflict with study of men,
313.
Preacher, his experience as a listen-
er, 4.
his need of knowledge of the
speech of the people, 216.
his profession and life in conflict,
24.
often deficient in illustrative
power, 285.
sometimes excessive in illustra-
tive power, 286.
Preaching, abstract, 72.
direct, 29.
essays, 223.
in times of excitement, 35.
of the Reformers, 290.
on the atonement, 262.
pedantry in, 291.
side-issues, 72.
to the church and to the ungodly,
30.
unphilosophical methods of it, 6.
untimely forms of it, 72.
Prescott, \Villiam, his affection for
his library, 304.
his opinion of the " Inferno," 147.
his reading, 143.
Humboldt's opinion of him, 180.
Present age, depreciation of it, 18.
Priesthood and ministry distinct,
54.
Priestly notion of the clergy, 22.
Private judgment, the right of it
exercised in New England, 186.
Principles of speech, unconscious
use of them, 102.
Probation the leading idea of hu-
man life, 31.
Profession, mistake in the choioe
of one, 112.
Professional duties, their relation
to a pastor's studies, 192.
enthusiasm, 193.
reading central in a pastor's
studies, 256.
vigilance, 313.
INDEX.
J351
Professions, the, and literature, 155.
Dr, Arnold's opinion, 155.
Fronde's opinion, 155.
Proportion between ancient and
modern classics, 150.
biblical projiortions of truth tend
to equipoise, 2G7.
in preachiMf; to the church and to
the world, 30.
in reading, 143.
of executive power to critical
taste, 208.
of rebuke and commendation in
preaching, 30.
of truth in the Scriptures, 259,
2GG.
of truth, the distortion of it in
revivals, 2GG.
Pulpit, American, 180.
American, question of its decline,
181.
amount of literature in it annu-
ally, 239.
and pew, the distance between
them widening, 27.
compared with meetings for con-
ference, 214.
English, as related to the drama,
320.
English, at the restoration of the
Stuarts, 321.
English, at the time of the revo-
lution of 1G88, 332.
English, in the reign of Eliza-
beth, 330.
French and German, compared
with English, 175.
idiosyncrasy of ,it, 42.
its policy in times of inquiry, 59.
not designed for select audiences,
42.
Puritan theology of New England
compared with that of Holland,
184.
"Queen Mab," its debt to Chris-
tian ideas, 243.
Quotation restricted, 198.
Quotations by Bishop Latimer, 291.
by contemporaries of Jeremy
Taylor, 292.
by George Herbert, 293.
from Greek and Latin authors,
292.
classic, in the English Parlia-
ment, 182.
classic, in United-States Senate,
182.
Races intermingled in Great Brit-
ain, 162.
Reading, breadtli of range in it, 194.
classes of England, 37.
collateral, 289.
difference between it and study,
270.
for mental quickening, examples,
303.
philosophically, illustrated, 273,
philosoi)hically, necessary to ex-
plain anomalies, 274.
preliminary to composition, 301.
variety useless, if not scholarly,
194.
with generous judgment of au-
thors, 303.
with self-appreciation, 303.
Real life the medium of revealing
truth, 18.
Rebuke, the mission of, 29.
Recapitulation of the argument on
the study of men, 94.
Reed, Professor Henry, his defini-
tion of literature, 130.
his meditations on libraries, 134.
his opinion of belles-lettres, 192.
his spirit in criticism, .304,
Reform, biblical reform temperate,
252.
philosophy of it, 58.
Reformation, the, preaching of the
Reformers, 289.
Representative character of unwrit-
ten literature, 217.
Resemblances in literature, 282.
Responsibility of man, unscriptural
modes of preaching it, 2G0.
Restoration of the Stuarts, state of
the pulpit at the, 331.
Restorationism, increase of faith in
it, 59.
Retribution, biblical and scientific
forms of the doctrine, 260.
effect of Spurgeon's way of
preaching it, 294.
popular opinions on the doctrine
revised, 59.
Revision of the New Testament,
its sale, 239.
Revival of letters, 125.
Revivals, books on them, 15.
clergy who ignore or oppose
them, 12, IG.
docility in the study of them, 16.
foreshadowed, 59.
inquiries respecting them, 14.
not provincial, 11.
pathological affections in them,
267.
philosophy of them, 13.
352
INDEX.
Revivals, sought for by unphilo-
sophical expedients, 6.
study of tliem, 14.
the biblical proportions of truth
best adapted to them, 266.
value of them to the Church, 16.
EeviA'alists, study of their biogra-
phies, 14.
Revolution of 1688, English pulpit
at that time, 332.
Revolutions, the divine law of their
working, 47, 48.
Rhetorical treatises, adverse opin-
ions of them, 92, 94.
Right and left hands physiologically
equal, 205.
Rights, popular, balanced by duties,
53.
Robertson, Frederick, his opinion
of President Edwards, 190.
Rogers, Henry, on j)lans of reading,
127.
Roman literature, leading repre-
sentatives of it, 137.
Ruskin, John, his description of a
false taste, 205.
Sachs, Hans, influence of his
hymns, 242.
Sandys, Bishop, chaplain to Queen
Elizabeth, 331.
Satan, his mental unity a cause of
his power, 321.
Scandinavian literatures,their place
in comparison with others, 161.
Schiller, Coleridge's translations of
his dramas, 147.
Scholarship, universal, 131.
Scholasticism in the pulpit, 32.
Schoolmen, great men not such,
141.
Scotland, her pulpit in the eigh-
teenth century, 209.
Scott, Sir Walter, circulation of his
books, 39.
his experience in composing, 297.
his ideal of life at Abbotsford,
154.
his opinion of Campbell, 305.
his opinion of common people,
90.
his opinion of literary society, 89,
215.
his study of men, 88.
origin of the " Lay of the Last
Minstrel," 107.
the authorship of "Waverley,"
273.
Seclusion of the clergy, 22.
literary, unhealthiness of it, 216.
Secular assemblies, their subjection
to eloquent speech, 9.
parson described, 24.
Selection of books, 128.
Self-appreciation, 123.
and self-distrust, 305.
Self-educated men, 122.
Self-distrust of Thomas Campbell,
305.
Self-estimates, errors in them,
117.
Selfishness, literary, 153.
Sensationalism, ignorance of those
who crave it, 65.
Serial preaching on the Catechism,
266.
Servitude to philosophical schools,
204.
Shakspeare Club in the Andover
Seminary, 208.
German criticism of him, 165.
his ideal of woman, 241.
his study of men, 85.
not a universal genius, 200.
Shelley, Percy B., effect of " Chris-
tabel " upon him, 107.
his resemblance to Titian, 283.
indebtedness of "Queen Mab"
to the Scriptures, 243.
Sheridan, Richard B., compared
with Burke, 284.
Side-issues in preaching, 72.
Similitudes of genius, 283.
Simplicity in preaching approved
by the best hearers, 64.
Sin, heathen and biblical ideas of
its forgiveness contrasted, 261.
Slavery, American, history of the
controversy, 46.
Southey, Robert, a quotation from
him, 132.
his advice respecting composi-
tion, 299, 306.
his criticism on " Madoc," 306.
his dependence on the pen for
thought, 296.
Sovereignty of God, biblical and
scientific ways of preaching it,
260.
Spenser, Edmund, debt of the
" Faerie Queene " to the Scrip-
tures, 240.
Spiritualism, an illustration of it,
60.
its relation to popular opinions
of retribution, 60.
Spurgeon, Charles H., his severe
preaching and its effect, 260,
294.
INDEX.
353
stereotype-plates, opinion of them
by publishers at first, 39.
Stothard, Tlioiuas, his professional
vigilance, 313.
Stowe, H. B., her rank as a novel-
ist, 180.
Stuart, Professor Moses, his early
judgment of himself, 114.
his early poverty of thought,
296.
his habits of reading and study,
270.
Stuarts, restoration of, state of the
pulpit at that time, 331.
Study of men, examples in the
practice of eminent men, 83-92.
preacher's study of his own mind,
3.
preacher's study of other men, 8.
Studies of a pastor, an independent
plan necessary, 321.
a scholastic plan not pertinent,
322.
encouraged by the certainty of
growth, 324.
habits of certain European pas-
tors, 311.
ideal plan necessary, 309.
limitations of them, 133.
negative value of an ideal plan,
310.
practicability of them, 309.
rapid study practicable in middle
life, 324.
so conducted as to admit of in-
terruptions, 323.
so conducted as to secure concen-
tration, 323.
Style, relative value of strength
and beauty, 284.
variety and excellence of it in
the Scriptures, 253.
Suffering classes, adaptation of the
pulpit to them, 30.
Sumner, Charles, contrasted with
Stephen A. Douglas, 10.
his use of classic quotations, 182.
Sweden, catechetical instruction,
263.
the lascari, 264.
Symmetry of culture, 285.
of culture necessary to courage,
20.
of the biblical system of truth,
253.
Sympathetic character of high cul-
ture, 201.
Table-talk, its value in many fami-
lies, 212.
Tasso Torquato, his self-distrust,
299.
Taste, a superlative faculty, 100.
its working in mental culture,
101.
not virtue, 100.
Ruskiu's description of a false
taste, 205.
without executive skill, 103.
Tastes, clerical, demoralized, 41.
juvenile, 99.
natural, not to be suppressed,
288.
overgrown, 287.
Taylor, Jeremy, pedantry in the
pulpit of his times, 293.
" Thanatopsis," its indebtedness to
the Scri])tures, 240.
Theology, biblical and scientific
forms of it, 256.
influence of literary culture in
liberalizing it, 142.
of New-England original, 184.
Third class of minds between the
church and the world, 73.
Tholuck, Professor F. A., his opin-
ion of Prussian pastors, 314.
Tillotson, Archbishop, Dryden's
use of his works, 104.
Town-meeting of New England,
its principle suggested by Je-
thro, 230.
Translations, Coleridge's transla-
tions of Schiller, 147.
the reading of them defended,
147.
use of them by R. W. Emerson,
146.
Tyndale, William, debt of the Eng-
lish Church to him, 330.
Types of preaching, denomination-
al diversity of them, 210.
Unity of discourse, want of it at
the Reformation, 290.
of spirit necessary to success iu
study, 321.
Universal scholarship a fiction, 131.
Untimely preaching, 72.
Unwritten literature, its represen-
tative character, 217.
magnitude and variety of it, 212.
should be studied, 211.
crises in history create it, 213.
Utah, preaching in, 28.
Vacations, reading of fiction in
them, 327.
Variety in reading, 194.
necessary to perfection of knowl*
edge, 201.
354
INDEX.
Variety in reading useless, if not
scholarly, 194.
valuable for its own sake, 200.
Vernacular language. Dr. G. P.
Marsh's opinion of it, 151.
literature, the claims of it to as-
cendency, 151.
Vinci, Leonardo da, his fastidious
taste, 298.
Vocabulary, English, Dr. John-
son's opinion of it, 171.
Voltaire, his influence on the
French literature, 137.
his influence on the French reva-
lution, 170.
his use of Massillon, 303.
"Walpole, Horace, his opinion of
antiquarian libraries, 129.
"Wasteful reading, 143.
"Waste of power in the pulpit, 31.
"Watts, Dr. Isaac, his hymn on the
atonement, 31.
"Waverley novels, discovery of their
authorship, 273.
Webster, Daniel, his imitation of
John Adams, 301.
his use of the Scriptures, 242.
preaching criticised by him, 64.
Whitefield, George, disappoint-
ment in reading his sermoriS,
220.
his study of men, 91.
reception of him in England,
68.
Wickliffe, John, his place in the
history of the English pulpit,
329.
Wordsworth, William, a quotation
from, 31, 1G8, 241.
** Ode on Immortality," its debt
to the Scriptures, 241.
his opinion of English literature,
140.
his opinion of Milton, 140.
his reply to Jeffrey, 101.
Jeffrey's criticism of him, 101.
the debt of " The Excursion " to
the Scriptures, 241.
World, distinction between it and
the Church, 70, 73.
Young men, the world predisposed
to favor them, 308.
Youth, the consciousness of proba-
tion begins early, 31.
"Zurich Letters," no such volume
in New England, 186.
CHRISTIAN EVIDENCES AND
HOMILETICS.
THE GROUNDS OF THEISTIC AND CHRISTIAN BELIEF. By
Prof. GEORGE P. FISHER, D.D., LL.D., Professor of
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THE PHILOSOPHIC BASIS OF THEISM. An Examination of the
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Christianity, A.D. 311-600. Vol. IV.-Mediaeval Christianity,
A.D. 590-1073. 8vo, price per vol., $4.00.
This work is extremely comprehensive. All subjects that properly
belong to a complete sketch .ire treated, including the history of Cbris-
tian art, hyranolog-y, accounts of the lives and chief works of the
Fathers of the Church, etc. The great theological, christological, and
anthropological controversies of the period are duly sketched ; and in
all the details of history the organizing hand of a master is distinctly
Been, shaping the mass of materials into order and system.
FROF. GEO. p. FISHER, of Yale College.— '•Dr. Scl^aff haa tHoroughly and
Buccessfully accompUshcd Ws task. The volumes are replete with evidencea of a
careful study of the original sources and of an extraordinary and, we might say,
uasurpa33cd acquaintance with the modern literature— German, French, and
English— in the department of ecclesiastical history. They are equally marked hy
a fail-minded, conBcientioua spirit, as well as by a lucid, aaimated mode of
presentation."
PROF. ROSWELL D. HITCHCOCK, D.D.— "In no other single work of
Its kind with which I am acquainted will students and general readers find so
much to instruct and interest them."
DR. JUL. MULLER, of Halle— "It is the only history of the first six cen-
turies which truly satisfies the wants of the present age. It is rich in results of
original investigation."
HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF CHRIST, IN CHRONOLOGI-
CAL TABLES. A Synchronistic View of the Events, Charac-
teristics, and Culture of each period, including the History of
Polity, Worship, Literature, and Doctrines, together with two
Supplementary Tables upon the Church in America; and an
Appendix, containing the series of Councils, Popes, Patri-
archs, and olher Bishops, and a full Index. By the late
HENRY B. SMITH, D.D., Professor in the Union Theologi-
cal Seminary of the City of New York. Revised Edition.
Folio, $5.00.
REV. DR. W. G. T. SHEDD.— " Prof. Smith's nistorlcal Tables are the best
that I know of in any language. In preparing such a work, with so much care and
research. Prof. Smith has furnished to the student an apparatus that will be of
life-long service to him"
REV. DR. WILLIAM ADAMS.-" The labor expended upon such a work la
Immense, and Its accuracy and completeness do honor to tae rcseaich ana
Bcholarship of its author, and are an Invaluable acquisition to our Uterature."
CHARLES SCBTIlXEn'S SONS'
LECTURES ON THE HISTORY OF THE JEWISH CHURCH. By
ARTHUR PENRHYN STANLEY, D.D. With Maps and Plans.
New Edition from New Plates, with the author's latest revis-
ion. Part I.— From Abraham to Samuel. Part II.— From
Samuel to the Captivity. Part III.— From the Captivity to
the Christian Era. Three vols., 12mo (sold separately), each
$2.00.
The same— Westminster Edition. Three vols., 8vo (sold in sets
only>, per set, $9.00.
LECTURES ON THE HISTORY OF THE EASTERN CHURCH.
With an introduction on the Study of Ecclesiastical History.
Gy ARTHUR PENRHYN STANLEY, D.D. New Edition from
New Plates. 12mo, $2.00.
LECTURES ON THE HISTORY OF THE CHURCH OF SCOT-
LAND. By ARTHUR PENRHYN STANLEY, D.D. 8vo, $1.50.
In all that concerns the external characteristics of the scenes and
persons described, Dr. Stanley is entirely at home. His books are not
dry records of historic events, bnt animated pictures of historic scenes
and of the actors in them, while the human motives and aspects of
events are brought out in bold and full relief.
THE LONDON CRITIC— "Earnest, eloquent, learned, with a style that la
never monotonous, but luring tlirougti Its eloquence, the lectures will maintain
his fame as author, scholar, and divine. We could point out many passages that
glow with a true poetic fire, but there are hundreds pictorially rich and poetically
true. The reader experiences no weariness, for in every page and paragraph
there is something to engage the mind and refresh the soul."
THE NEW ENGLANDER.—" We have first to express our admiration of the
grace and graphic beauty of his style. The felicitous discrimination in the use
of language which appears on every page is especially required on these topics,
where the author's position might so easily be mi3taken through an unguarded
statement. Dr. Stanley is possessed of the prime quality of an historical student
and writer— namely, the historical feeUng, or sense, by which conditions of life
and types of character, remote from our present experience, are vividly con-
ceived of and truly appreciated."
THE N. Y. TIMES.— "The Old Testament History is here presented as it
never was presented before ; with so much clearness, elegance of style, and his-
toric and literary illustration, not to speak of learning and calmness of judgment,
that not theologians alone, but also cultivated readers generally, are drawn to its
pages. In point of style it takes rank with Macaulay's History and the best
chapters of Froude."
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