Christian Classics
‹ Sermons Preached Upon Several Occasions. Vol. III.

Robert South · 4 of 24

Sermon XXXVII. The Scribe Instructed, &c. · Part 2

But some perhaps will reply, What needs all this? we are resolved to preach only, and look no further, and for this much reading cannot be requisite, except only for the delivery of our sermons: for we will preach our own experiences. To which I answer, that be this as it may; but yet, if these men preach their own experiences, as they call them, without some other sort of reading and knowledge, both their hearers, and themselves too, will quickly have more than sufficient experience of their confidence and ridiculous impertinence. But as there are certain mountebanks and quacks in physic, so there are much the same also in divinity, such as have only two or three little experiments and popular harangues to entertain and amuse the vulgar with; but being wholly unacquainted with the solid grounds and rules of science, from alone come true sufficiency and skill, they are pitifully ignorant and useless as to any great and worthy purposes; and fit for little else, but to shew the world how easily fools may be imposed upon by knaves. And thus much for habitual preparation in point of knowledge; besides which, there is required also, in the

Second place, the like preparation as to significant speech and expression. For as I shew, that by knowledge a man informs himself, so by expression he conveys that knowledge to others; and as bare words convey, so the propriety and elegancy of them gives force and facility to the conveyance. But because this is like to have more opposers, especially such as call a speaking coherently upon any sacred subject, a blending of man’s wisdom with the word, an offering of strange fire; and account the being pertinent, even the next door to the being profane, I say, for their sakes, I shall prove a thing clear in itself by scripture, and that not by arguments, or consequences drawn from , but by downright instances occurring in it, and those so very plain, that even such as themselves cannot be ignorant of them. For in God’s word we have not only a body of religion, but also a system of the best rhetoric: and as the highest things require the highest expressions, so we shall find nothing in scripture so sublime in itself, but it is reached, and sometimes overtopped by the sublimity of the expression. And first, where did majesty ever ride in more splendour, than in those descriptions of the divine power in Job, in the 38th, 39th, and 40th chapters? And what triumph was ever celebrated with higher, livelier, and more exalted poetry, than in the song of Moses in the 32d of Deut.? And then for the passions of the soul; which being things of the highest transport and most wonderful and various operation in human nature, are therefore the proper object and business of rhetoric: let us take a view how the scripture expresses the most noted and powerful of them. And here, what poetry ever paralleled Solomon in his description of love, as to all the ways, effects, and ecstasies, and little tyrannies of that commanding passion? See Ovid with his Omnia vincit amor, &c. and Virgil with his Vulnus alit venis et caeco carpitur igne, &c. How jejune and thin are they to the poetry of Solomon, in the 8th chapter of the Canticles, and the 6th verse, Love is strong as death, and jealousy cruel as the grave. And as for his description of beauty, he describes that so, that he even transcribes it into his expressions. And where do we read such strange risings and fallings, now the faintings and languishings, now the terrors and astonishments of despair venting themselves in such high, amazing strains, as in the 77th Psalm? Or where did we ever find sorrow flowing forth in such a natural prevailing pathos, as in the Lamentations of Jeremy? One would think, that every letter was wrote with a tear, every word was the noise of a breaking heart; that the author was a man compacted of sorrows; disciplined to grief from his in fancy; one who never breathed but in sighs, nor spoke but in a groan. So that he who said he would not read the scripture for fear of spoiling his style, shewed himself as much a blockhead as an atheist, and to have as small a gust of the elegancies of expression, as of the sacredness of the matter. And shall we now think that the scripture forbids all ornament of speech, and engages men to be dull, flat, and slovenly in all their discourses? But let us look a little further, and see whether the New Testament abrogates what we see so frequently used in the Old. And for this, what mean all the parables used by our Saviour, the known and greatest elegancies of speech? so that if this way was unlawful before, Christ by his example has authorized and it since, and if good and lawful, has confirmed it. But as for the men whom we contend with; I see not why they should exterminate all rhetoric, who still treat of things figuratively, and by the worst of figures too, their whole discourse being one continued meiosis, to diminish, lessen, and debase the great things of the gospel infinitely below themselves. Besides that I need not go beyond the very words of the text for an impregnable proof of this; for Christ says, that a scribe instructed unto the kingdom of heaven ought to bring out of his treasure things new and old. Now I demand, what are the things here to be understood? For as to the matter which he is here to treat of, the articles of the Christian religion are and still must be the same, and therefore there can be no such variety as new and old in them. it remains, that this variety can be only in the way of expressing those things. Besides that our Saviour Christ, in these words, particularly relates to the manner of his own preaching, upon occasion of the very sermon which we find all along this chapter delivered in parables; so that by new and old may probably be meant nothing thing else, but a plenty, or fluent dexterity of the most suitable words and pregnant arguments to set off and enforce gospel truths. For questionless, when Christ says, that a scribe must be stocked with things new and old, we must not think that he meant, that he should have an hoard of old sermons, (whosoever made them,) with a bundle of new opinions; for this certainly would have furnished out such entertainment to his spiritual guests, as no rightly-disposed palate could ever relish, or stomach bear. And therefore, the thing which Christ here drives at, must needs be only variety and copiousness of sacred eloquence.

And thus much for the first of the three general heads proposed by us for the handling these words; which was to shew the qualifications necessary for a gospel scribe instructed unto the kingdom of heaven. And these were two; first, habitual preparation, in point of learning or knowledge; and secondly, the other in point of significant speech or expression: I proceed now to the

Second general head proposed; which was, to as sign the reasons of this their necessity; and these shall be three.

1. Because the preacher works upon men’s minds only as a moral agent, and as one who can do no more than persuade, and not by any physical efficiency. And herein I do not say, that is caused only by moral suasion: for if we consider the strength of our corruption, and how it has insinuated itself into the very principles of nature, and seized upon those powers which are but very little under the command of the intellectual part, I think it cannot be subdued by mere suasion, which in its utmost reaches only to the convincing of that: but the heart must be changed by a much higher power, even by an immediate omnipotent work of God’s Spirit infusing a quality into the soul, not there before, which by degrees shall weaken and work out our inherent natural corruption: and this being a creating work, is done solely and immediately by God himself, forasmuch as creation admits of no instrument, as being an effect of that infinite creative power, which cannot be conveyed to an instrumental agent.

But you will say then, If be the sole, immediate work of God, what need is thereof a preacher? and how can he be said to be, as usually he is, God’s instrument in the work of a man’s ? To which I answer, 1st, That God’s institution of preaching is a sufficient reason for it, though we knew no other. 2dly, That when the preacher is said to be an instrument in the of a sinner, it is not meant, that he is such, by a properly physical efficiency, but only morally, and by persuasion. I explain my meaning thus. A physical instrument, or such as is found in natural efficient productions, is that, which, partaking of the power, force, and causality of the principal agent from derived to it, produces a suitable effect. As when I cut or divide a thing, the force of my hand is conveyed to the knife, by virtue of which, the knife cuts or divides. And thus, I say, the preacher cannot be the instrument of , for the reason above mentioned; because that infinite power, which does convert, cannot be conveyed to any finite being whatsoever. But a moral instrument is quite of another nature; and is that, as I may so express it, non quo producente, sed quo interveniente sequitur effectus: not that which is effected by, but that without which, ordinarily at least, it is not. So that while the minister is preaching and persuading, God puts forth another secret influence, quite different from that of the preacher, though still going along with it: and it is this, by which God immediately touches the sinner’s heart, and converts him. , the preacher is still said to be instrumental in this great work; forasmuch as his preaching is subordinate to, and most commonly, as has been said, accompanies it: God not being pleased to exert his action, but in concurrence with the preacher exerting his. And thus having given God his prerogative, and the preacher his due, by shewing how he is morally instrumental to the work of the sinner’s by persuading; I infer the necessity of those forementioned abilities and preparations for preaching, as being the most proper means and instruments of persuasion. See this exemplified in St. Paul himself, and in him observe, when he deals with the Jews, how he endeavours to insinuate what he says, by pleading his own kindred with them, speaking honourably of Abraham, and of the law, and calling the gospel the law of faith; and affirming, that it did establish the law. All which was the true art of natural rhetoric, thus to convey his sense under those names and notions, which he knew were highly pleasing to them. But then, on the other hand, when he would win over the ; forasmuch as there was a standing feud between them and the Jews; (the Jews, like the men here of late, for ever unsainting all the world, besides themselves;) observe how he deals with them. He tells them of the rejection of the Jews, and the being ingrafted in their room: and that Abraham believed unto before he was circumcised, and therefore was no less the father of the uncircumcised believers, than of the circumcised. He tells them also, that the believing were his spiritual seed, but the Jews, as such, were only his . He takes occasion also to undervalue circumcision, and the ceremonial law, as abused by the Jews, and in themselves things most hateful to other nations. Now all this was hugely pleasing to the , and therefore very apt to persuade. But had not St. Paul been a man of learning and skill in the art and methods of rhetoric, he could not have suited such apposite exhortations to such different sorts of men with so much dexterity. And the same course, in dealing with men’s minds, is a minister of the word to take now. As suppose, he would dissuade men from any vice, he is to found his dissuasives upon the peculiar temper of the man; so that if, for instance, he should find it needful to preach against drunkenness, and there were several in the congregation addicted to several sorts of vice, as some to pride or ambition, some to covetousness, or the like; here, besides the general argument from the punishments of the other world denounced against these and such other vices, if he would do his business effectually, he must also tell the ambitious or proud man, that his drunkenness would disgrace him, and make him the scorn and contempt of all the world about him; and the covetous man, that it would certainly waste his estate, and beggar him. Whereas should he, on the other hand, transplace these arguments, and dissuade him who is proud from drinking, because it would beggar him, and him who is covetous, because it would disgrace him, doubtless he would prevail but little; because his argument would not strike that proper principle which each of them were governed by. And now what can this be grounded upon, but upon natural philosophy, and a knowledge of men’s passions and interests, the great and chief springs of all their actions? And upon the like ground it is, that for a preacher in his discourses to the people to insist only upon universals, is but a cold, faint, languid way of persuading or dissuading; as, to tell men in general, that they are sinners, and that, going on in sin without , they are under the curse and wrath of God; all which they think they knew before, and accordingly receive it as a word of course, and too slightly regard it: but , the usual forerunner of, and preparative to , is from particulars, as if the preacher should tell his hearers, that he who continues to cheat, cozen, and equivocate, is a wicked and impenitent wretch; and that he who drinks, and swears, and whores, is the person to whom the curse directly belongs: and this seriously urged, and discreetly applied, will, if any thing, carry it home to the conscience, and lodge it there too. And now is not the reason of this method also to be fetched from philosophy, as well as from religion? For we know, that men naturally have only a weak, confused knowledge of universals, but a clear and lively idea of particulars. And that which gives a clear representation of a thing to the apprehension, makes a suitable impression of it upon the will and affections. Whosoever therefore pretends to be a preacher, must know, that his main business is to persuade, and that without the helps of human learning, this can hardly be done to any purpose. So that if he finds himself wholly destitute of these, and has no thing else to trust to, but some groundless, windy, and fantastic notions about the Spirit, (the common sanctuary of fanatics and enthusiasts,) he would do well to look back, and taking his hand off from this plough, to put it to another much fitter for him. But in the mean time, as for ourselves, who pretend not to a pitch above other mortals, nor dare rely upon inspiration instead of industry, we must rest content to revere the wisdom, and follow the examples of those who went before us, and enjoined us the study of the arts and sciences, as the surest and most tried way to that of divinity.

2. A second reason for the necessity of these preparations for the ministry shall be taken from this consideration; that at the first promulgation of the gospel, God was pleased to furnish the apostles and preachers of it with abilities proper for that great work, after a supernatural and miraculous way. For still we find, that the scripture represents the apostles as ignorant and illiterate men, and that the chief priests and elders of the Jews took particular notice of them, as such, in Acts iv. and the 13th verse. The text there giving them this character, that they were ἄνθρωποι ἀγράμματοι, καὶ ἰδιῶται, that is to say, according to the strict signification of the word, men unlearned, and of a mean and plebeian condition. Nevertheless, since they were appointed by God to preach the gospel to several nations; a work requiring a considerable knowledge of the languages of those nations, and impossible to be performed without it; and yet no less impossible for the apostles, having neither time nor opportunity to acquire that knowledge in the natural, ordinary course of study; God himself supplies this defect, and endues them with all necessary qualifications by immediate and divine infusion. So that being filled with the , as we read in Acts ii. and the 4th verse, they forthwith spoke with other tongues; and that so clearly, plainly, and intelligibly, as both to convince and astonish all who heard them; even those of the most different nations and languages, as well as their own countrymen the Jews themselves. From I thus argue; That if the forementioned helps and assistances were not always of most singular use, and sometimes of indispensable necessity to the calling of a divine, certainly the most wise God would never have been at the expense of a miracle, to endow men, of that calling, with them. For he who observes that order and decorum in all his works, as never to over do any thing, nor carry on the business of his ordinary by extraordinary and supernatural ways, would doubtless (in the eye of the world at least) seem to debase and make cheap those noblest instances of his power, should he ever exert them, but where he saw it of the highest concern to his own honour, and man’s happiness, that something should be done for both, which bare nature, left to itself, could never do.

3. The third and last reason for the necessity of such preparations for the ministry, shall be drawn from the dignity of the subject of it, which is divinity. And what is divinity, but a doctrine treating of the nature, attributes, and works of the great God, as he stands related to rational creatures; and the way how rational creatures may serve, worship, and enjoy him? And if so, is not the subject-matter of it the greatest, and the design and business of it the noblest in the world, as being no less than to direct an immortal soul to its endless and eternal felicity? It has been disputed, to which of the intellectual habits, mentioned by Aristotle, it most properly belongs; some referring it to wisdom, some to science, some to prudence, and some compounding it of several of them together: but those seem to speak most to the purpose, who will not have it formally any one of them, but virtually, and in an eminent transcendent manner, all. And now can we think, that a doctrine of that depth, that height, and that vast compass, grasping within it all the perfections and dimensions of human science, does not worthily claim all the preparations, whereby the wit and industry of man can fit him for it? All other sciences are accounted but handmaids to divinity: and shall the handmaid be richer adorned, and better clothed and set off, than her lady? In other things, the art usually excels the matter, and the ornament we bestow, is better than the subject we bestow it upon: but here we are sure, that we have such a subject before us, as not only calls for, but commands, and not only commands, but deserves our utmost application to it; a subject of that native, that inherent worth, that it is not capable of any addition from us, but shines both through and above all the artificial lustre we can put upon it. The study of divinity is indeed difficult, and we are labour hard and dig deep for it; but then we dig in a golden mine, which equally invites and rewards our labour.

And thus much for the second general head at first proposed, for the handling of the words; which was to shew, the reasons of the necessity of the preparations spoken of to the study of divinity. Of which we have assigned three.

And so we pass at length to the third and last general head proposed, which was, to shew what useful inferences may be drawn from the foregoing particulars. And the first shall be a just and severe reproof to two sorts of men.

1st, To such as disparage and detract from the grandeur of the gospel, by a puerile and indecent levity in their discourses of it to the people.

2dly, To such as depreciate, and (as much as in them lies) debase the same, by a coarse, careless, rude, and insipid way of handling the great and in valuable truths of it.

Both of them certainly objects of the most deserved reproof. And

1. For those who disparage and detract from the gospel, by a puerile and indecent sort of levity in their discourses upon it, so extremely below the subject discoursed of. All vain, luxuriant allegories, rhyming cadencies of similary words, are such pitiful embellishments of speech, as serve for nothing but to embase divinity; and the use of them, but like the plastering of marble, or the painting of gold, the glory of which is to be seen, and to shine by no other lustre but their own. What Quintilian most discreetly says of Seneca’s handling philosophy, that he did rerum pondera minutissimis sententiis frangere, break, and, as it were, emasculate the weight of his subject by little affected sentences, the same may with much more reason be applied to the practice of those, who detract from the excellency of things sacred by a comical lightness of expression: as when their prayers shall be set out in such a dress, as if they did not , but compliment Almighty God; and their sermons so garnished with quibbles and trifles, as if they played with truth and immortality; and neither believed these things themselves, nor were willing that others should. For is it possible, that a man in his senses should be merry and jocose with eternal life and eternal death, if he really designed to strike the awful impression of either into the consciences of men? No, no; this is no less a contradiction to common sense and reason, than to the strictest notions of religion. And as this can by no means be accounted divinity, so neither indeed can it pass for wit; which yet such chiefly seem to affect in such performances. For these are as much the stains of true human eloquence, as they are the blots and blemishes of divinity; and might be as well confuted out of Quintilian’s Institutions, as out of St. Paul’s Epistles. Such are wholly mistaken in the nature of wit: for true wit is a severe and a manly thing. Wit in divinity is nothing else, but sacred truths suitably expressed. It is not shreds of Latin or Greek, nor a Deus dixit, and a Deus benedixit, nor those little quirks, or divisions into the ὅτι, the διότι, and the καθότι, or the egress, regress, and progress, and other such stuff, (much like the style of a lease,) that can properly be called wit. For that is not wit which consists not with wisdom. For can you think that it had not been an easy matter for any one, in the text here pitched upon by me, to have run out into a long, fulsome allegory, comparing the scribe and the householder together, and now and then to have cast in a rhyme, with a quid, a quo, and a quomodo, and the like? But certainly it would then have been much more difficult for the judicious to hear such things, than for any, if so inclined, to have composed them. The practice therefore of such persons is upon no terms to be endured. Nor,

2. Is the contrary of it to be at all more endured in those who cry up their mean, heavy, careless, and insipid way of handling things sacred, as the only spiritual and evangelical way of preaching, while they charge all their crude incoherences, saucy familiarities with God, and nauseous tautologies, upon the Spirit prompting such things to them, and that as the most elevated and seraphic heights of religion. Both these sorts, as I have said, are absolutely to be exploded; and it is hard to judge which of them deserves it most. It is indeed no ways decent for a grave matron to be attired in the gaudy, flaunting dress of youth; but it is not at all uncomely for such an one to be clothed in the richest and most costly silk, if black or grave: for it is not the richness of the piece, but the gaudiness of the colour, which exposes to censure. And therefore, as I shew before, that the ὅτι’s and the διότι’s, the Deus dixit, and the Deus benedixit, could not be accounted wit; so neither can the whimsical cant of issues, products, tendencies, breathings, indwellings, rollings, recumbencies, and scriptures misapplied, be accounted divinity. In a word, let but these new lights, (so apt to teach their betters,) instead of all this and the like jargon, bring us, in their discourses, strength of argument, clearness of consequence, exactness of method, and propriety of speech, and then let prejudice and party (whatsoever they may mutter against them) despise and deride them, if they can. But persons of light, undistinguishing heads, not able to carry themselves clear between extremes, think that they must either flutter, as it were, in the air, by a kind of vain, empty lightness, or lie grovelling upon the ground, by a dead and contemptible flatness; both the one and the other, no doubt, equally ridiculous. But, after all, I cannot but believe, that it is the be witching easiness of the latter way of the two which chiefly and endears it to the practice of these men; and I hope it will not prove offensive to the auditory, if, to release it (could I be so happy) from suffering by such stuff for the future, I venture upon some short description of it; and it is briefly thus. First of all they seize upon some text, from they draw something, which they call a doctrine, and well may it be said to be drawn from the words; forasmuch as it seldom naturally flows or results from them. In the next place, being thus provided, they branch it into several heads, perhaps twenty, or thirty, or upwards. Whereupon, for the prosecution of these, they repair to some trusty concordance, which never fails them; and by the help of that, they range six or seven scriptures under each head; which scriptures they prosecute one by one, first amplifying and enlarging upon one, for some considerable time, till they have spoiled it; and then, that being done, they pass to another, which in its turn suffers accordingly. And these impertinent and unpremeditated enlargements, they look upon as the motions and breathings of the Spirit, and therefore much beyond those of sense and reason, supported by industry and study; and this they call a saving way of preaching, as it must be confessed to be a way to save much labour, and nothing else that I know of. But how men should thus come to make the salvation of an immortal soul such a slight, extempore business, I must profess I cannot understand; and would gladly understand upon whose example they ground this way of preaching; not upon that of the apostles, I am sure. For it is said of St. Paul, in his sermon before Felix, that he reasoned of , temperance, and judgment to come. The words being in Acts xxiv. 25, διαλεγομένου δὲ αὐτοῦ, and, according to the natural force and import of them, signifying, that he discoursed or reasoned dialectically, following one conclusion with another, and with the most close and pressing arguments from the most persuasive topics of reason and divinity. Whereupon we quickly find the prevalence of his preaching in a suitable effect, that Felix trembled. Whereas had Paul only cast about his arms, spoke himself hoarse, and cried, You are damned, though Felix (as guilty as he was) might have given him the hearing, yet possibly he might also have looked upon him as one whose passion had at that time got the start of his judgment, and accordingly have given him the same coarse salute which the same Paul afterwards so undeservedly met with from Festus; but his zeal was too much under the conduct of his reason to fly out at such a rate. But, to pass from these indecencies to others, as little to be allowed in this sort of men, can any tolerable reason be given for those strange new postures used by some in the delivery of the word? Such as shutting the eyes, distorting the face, and speaking through the nose, which I think cannot so properly be called preaching as toning of a sermon. Nor do I see why the word may not be altogether as effectual for the of souls, delivered by one who has the manners to look his auditory in the face, using his own countenance and his own native voice, without straining it to a lamentable and doleful whine, (never serving to any purpose, but where some religious cheat is to be carried on.) That ancient, though seemingly odd saying, Loquere ut te videam, in my poor judgment, carries in it a very notable instruction, and peculiarly applicable to the persons and matter here pointed at. For, supposing one to be a very able and excellent speaker, yet, under the forementioned circumstances, he must, however, needs be a very ill sight; and the case of his poor suffering hearers very severe upon them, while both the matter uttered by him shall grate hard upon the ear, and the person uttering it at the same time equally offend the eye. It is clear, therefore, that the men of this method have sullied the noble science of divinity, and can never warrant their practice either from religion or reason, or the rules of decent and good behaviour, nor yet from the example of the apostles, and least of all from that of our Saviour himself. For none surely will imagine, that these men’s speaking as never man spoke before, can pass for any imitation of him. And here humbly conceive that it may not be amiss to take occasion to utter a great truth, as both worthy to be now considered, and never to be forgot; namely, that if we reflect upon the late times of confusion which passed upon the ministry, we shall find that the grand design of the fanatic crew was to persuade the world, that a standing, settled ministry was wholly useless. This, I say, was the main point which they then drove at. And the great engine to effect this, was by engaging men of several callings, (and those the meaner still the better,) to hold forth and harangue the multitude, sometimes in streets, sometimes in churches, sometimes in barns, and sometimes from pulpits, and sometimes from tubs: and, in a word, wheresoever and howsoever they could clock the senseless and unthinking rabble about them. And with this practice well followed, they (and their friends the Jesuits) concluded, that in some time it would be no hard matter to persuade the people, that if men of other professions were able to teach and preach the word, then to what purpose should there be a company of men brought up to it, and maintained in it, at the charge of a public allowance? especially when, at the same time, the truly godly so greedily gaped and grasped at it for their self-denying selves. So that preaching, we see, was their prime engine. But now what was it which encouraged these men to set up for a work, which, if duly managed, was so difficult in itself, and which they were never bred to? Why, no doubt it was that low, cheap, illiterate way then commonly used, and cried up for the only gospel, soul-searching way, (as the word then went,) and which the craftier sort of them saw well enough, that with a little exercise, and much confidence, they might in a short time come to equal, if not exceed; as it cannot be denied but that some few of them (with the help of a few friends in masquerade) accordingly did. But, on the contrary, had preaching been made and reckoned a matter of solid and true learning, of theological knowledge, and long and severe study, (as the nature of it required it to be,) assuredly no preaching cobbler amongst them all would ever have ventured so far beyond his last as to undertake it. And consequently this their most powerful engine for supplanting the church and clergy had never been at tempted, nor perhaps so much as thought on: and therefore of most singular benefit, no question, would it be to the public, if those who have authority to second their advice would counsel the ignorant and the forward to consider what divinity is, and what they themselves are, and so to put up their preaching tools, their medullas, note-books, their mellificiums, concordances, and all, and betake themselves to some useful trade, which nature had most particularly fitted them for. This is what I thought fit to offer and recommend; and that not out of any humour of opposition to this or that sort of men, (for, whatsoever they may deserve, I think them be low it,) but out of a dutiful zeal for the advancement of what most of us profess, divinity; as likewise for the honour of that place which we belong to, the University; and which of late years I have (with no small sorrow) heard often reflected upon for the meanness of many performances in it, no ways answerable to the ancient reputation of so noble a seat of knowledge. For, let the enemies of that and us say what they will, no man’s dulness is or can be his duty, and much less his perfection.