was the contempt with which they treated the more infirm Christians,
and the little consideration they had for such of their brethren as
happened to be _overtaken with any fault_. This proud, unchristian
temper he therefore takes upon him to correct—_Brethren_, says he, _if
any man be overtaken with a fault, you, that are spiritual, restore
such a one in the spirit of meekness, considering thyself, lest thou
also be tempted: Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law
of Christ_. And then follows the observation of the text—_for, if a
man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth
himself_: leaving the conceited Doctors and their admirers to apply
these general words, as they saw fit; but clearly enough pointing to
some persons among them, _who took themselves to be something_, and yet
miserably _deceived themselves_, in that, indeed, they _were nothing_.
In what respects their conduct shewed them to be so, he leaves to their
own sagacity, quickened by the poignancy of this covert reproof, to
find out.
Such is the Apostle’s _address_ in this divine admonition; and such the
_force_ (the greater, _for_ the address) of the reprehension conveyed
in it!
But now, what those RESPECTS are, in which these sufficient men
shewed themselves _to be nothing_, though St. Paul thought it not fit
to specify them to the _Galatians_, it may be _useful to us_, as it
certainly is left _free_ for us, to inquire.
FIRST, then, their very _Conceit_ was a certain argument of their
_Folly_. For, what surer indication of a weak and shallow man,
than his proneness to think highly of himself! Wise men understand
themselves at another rate. They are too conscious of their own
infirmities; they know their judgment to be too fallible, their
apprehension too slow, their knowledge too scanty, their wills
too feeble, and their passions too strong, to give way to this
insolent exultation of heart, to indulge in this conceit of their
own importance, and much less to form injurious comparisons between
themselves and others. They understand, that the only question is
concerning the different degrees of _weakness and imperfection_;
and that, where the best come far short of what they should be, all
pretence of boasting is cut off.
SECONDLY, these superior airs of importance were unsuitable to the
nature of their religion, and shewed how little proficiency they had
made in it; BECAUSE, as _Christians_, whatever light and knowledge they
laid claim to, they must needs confess was not their own, but derived
to them from above. All, these spiritual men could pretend to know
of divine things, had been freely and solely revealed to them by the
Spirit of God; a distinction, which ought indeed to fill their hearts
with gratitude, but could be no proper foundation of their pride or
vain-glory. For, as the Apostle himself argues in another place, _Who
maketh thee to differ from another? And what hast thou, which thou
didst not receive? Now, if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory,
as if thou hadst not received it[106]?_
Whatever temptation, therefore, there might be to a poor vain heathen
to pride himself in his pittance of knowledge or virtue, a CHRISTIAN
should, by the very principles of his religion, be more modest, and
ascribe his proficiency in either, not to himself, but to the indulgent
favour and good pleasure of God.
THIRDLY, these boasters betrayed themselves by the _fruits_, which this
self-importance produced, namely, their contemptuous and unfeeling
treatment of their brethren under any instance of their weakness and
frailty. Such behaviour was doubly ridiculous: _first_, as it implied
an ignorance of their own infirmity, and liableness to temptation; and,
_then_, as it argued a total want of _Charity_, the most essential part
of their religion, without which a man is _nothing_, whatever gifts and
graces of other kinds he may possess[107].
FOURTHLY, whatever merit a man may possess, this fond complacency of
mind can hardly fail to _deprive_ him of it. For this conceit of his
own sufficiency puts him off his guard, and makes him more liable to
fall into any _misconduct_, when, apprehending no danger to himself,
he employs no care; just as nothing is more fatal to an army, than a
confidence in its own strength, inducing a neglect of that watchfulness
and discipline, by which alone its security can be maintained.
This sufficiency also leads to _ignorance_, as well as misconduct, by
cutting off all hopes of further improvement. For he, that is proud of
his own knowledge, is not anxious to extend it; and, indeed, does not
easily apprehend there is much room or occasion for his so doing. Now,
from the moment a man stands still, and interrupts his intellectual,
as well as moral course, by the known constitution of things, he
necessarily goes backward; and, for his just punishment, relapses fast
into that ignorance, in a freedom from which he had before placed his
confidence and triumph.
_Lastly_, this presumptuous conceit is _belyed_ in the EVENT, I mean
in the opinion of those very persons, to whom the vain man would
willingly recommend himself. For the natural effect of such presumption
is, to excite the _contempt_ of the wise, and the _envy_ of the rest.
Men of discernment easily penetrate the delusion, and, knowing how
little reason there is for any man to pride himself in his knowledge
or virtue, are provoked to entertain an ostentatious display of those
qualities with that ridicule, it so well deserves: while the weaker
sort always take themselves to be insulted by superior accomplishments;
and rarely wait the just provocation of _vain-glory_ to malign and envy
those, to whom they belong.
But the misfortune does not stop here. Contempt and Envy are active
and vigilant passions; they are quick at espying a weakness, and
spare no pains to expose it: and where can this merciless inquisition
end, but in the proud man’s mortification to see his best faculties
slighted, or traduced, and all his imperfections laid bare and exposed?
So good reason had the Apostle to warn the Galatian teachers against
_vain-glory_, in the close of the preceding chapter—_Let us_, says he,
_not be vain-glorious, provoking one another, envying one another_; an
exhortation which the _vain-glorious_ among them should have listened
to, even for their own sakes.
We see, then, that, _in these several respects_, a man, who _takes
himself to be something_, in effect proves himself _to be nothing_. So
full of instruction is the plain unpretending aphorism in the text to
the persons concerned!
The Apostle adds—that such a man DECEIVETH HIMSELF—which must
needs be, and cannot want to be enlarged upon; since it appears in
the very instances, in which his _nothingness_ has been shewn. The
_vain-glorious_ Christian is manifestly and notoriously deceived
in _thinking himself something_—while that very conceit shews the
contrary—while it shews that he overlooks the very principles of his
religion—while it proves him to be void of Christian charity, the
very end of the commandment—while it betrays him into ignorance and
folly, and therefore tends to subvert the very foundation, on which his
_vain-glory_ is raised—while, lastly, in the event, it deprives him of
that very consideration to which he aspires.
“SUCH are the mischiefs of _Self-conceit_!” a vice, which Reason
universally condemns, but which our Christian profession renders most
contemptible and ridiculous. Even in the pursuits of _human_ Science,
where Reason can do most, all the efforts of the ablest understanding
penetrate but a little way. We know enough of _the nature of things_,
to serve the purposes of common life; and enough of _the nature of
man_, to discover our duty towards each other. And within this narrow
circle all our knowledge, be we as proud of it as we please, is
confined. Clouds and darkness cover the rest; and this the ablest men
of all times have seen and confessed. If there be a man, whom Heaven
has formed with greater powers and stronger faculties than are commonly
met with in the species, he is the _first_ to discover, and to lament,
his own blindness and weakness: a Socrates and a Pascal have been
considered as prodigies of parts and ingenuity; yet, while the meanest
Sophister is puffed up with the conceit of his own knowledge, these
divine men confess nothing so readily as their own ignorance.
And, if this be the case of human learning, what must we think of
_divine_? where Reason teaches nothing, beyond the existence and
attributes of God, and, as to every thing else, without the aid of
_Revelation_, is stark-blind. _The things of God knoweth no man but
the Spirit of God_—is an assertion, to which common sense and common
experience must assent. Yet shall every idle Speculatist, who has but
the confidence to call himself a Philosopher, treat the _divine word_,
as freely as any ordinary subject; and pronounce as peremptorily of the
_revealed will of God_, which the Angels themselves adore in silence,
as if he knew for certain that his poor and scanty understanding was
commensurate with _the councils of the most High_!
To these professors of Science, whether human or divine, who know so
little of themselves as to presume they know every thing, may the
Apostle’s aphorism be most fitly addressed—_If a man think himself to
be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself_;—and, through
all the simplicity of the expression, the good sense of the observation
must be felt by the proudest understanding.
Not, that the proper remedy for this evil, of _Self-conceit_, is a vile
subjection of the understanding, which our holy Religion disdains,
and to which none but slaves will submit—nor yet Scepticism, another
vice, to which the less sanguine disputers of this world are much
addicted—but a modest use of the faculties we possess, and above all,
_charity_. It is but another species of _pride_, to pretend that we
know nothing; _Christian humility_ is best expressed in referring, what
we know, to the good of others. Without this reference, all our claims
of superior wisdom are vain and delusive: for it is with _knowledge_,
as with faith, unless it _work by charity_, it is nothing.
To return to the text, then, and to conclude.
Let the ignominy of this _Self-delusion_ deter us, if nothing else can,
from the unseemly arrogance, it so well exposes and condemns. And let
us learn to revere the wisdom of the great Apostle, who, by couching
so momentous an admonition in so plain terms, has taught us, That,
as conceit and vain-glory terminate in shame and disappointment; so
the modesty of unpretending knowledge may be entitled to our highest
esteem.
SERMON XIII.
PREACHED MAY 16, 1773.
2 COR. x. 12.
_We dare not make ourselves of the number, or compare ourselves,
with some that commend themselves: But they, measuring themselves
by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves, are not
wise._
I shall not inquire, _who_ the persons were, to whom these words
are applied. It is enough, for the use I intend to make of them, to
observe, that they contain a censure of _some_ persons, “who, conscious
of certain advantages, and too much taken up in the contemplation of
them, came to think better of themselves, and, consequently, worse
of others, than they had reason to do; demonstrating, by this, their
partiality (as the Apostle gently remonstrates), that _they were not
wise_.”
But this censure admits a more extensive application. _Measuring
themselves by themselves, and comparing themselves among themselves_,
whole nations, and even ages, as well as individuals, are, sometimes,
misled in the estimate they make of their own worth; and never more
easily, or remarkably, than when the object of their partial fondness
is their proficiency in _knowledge_, and, above all, in _religious
knowledge_: for nothing flatters the pride of human nature so much, as
an idea of superiority in the exercise of its _best faculties_, on the
_noblest subjects_.
It would be easy to illustrate this observation by _many_ examples,
that have occurred in the history of mankind. But ONE, only, will
sufficiently employ your thoughts at this time; and that one (to make
it the more interesting and useful) shall be taken from OURSELVES.
The improvements, that have been made, for two or three centuries
past, in almost every art and science, seem to authorize the _present
age_ to think with some respect, of itself. It accordingly exults
in the idea of its own wisdom: and _this country_, in particular,
which has contributed its full share to those improvements, may well
be thought as forward, as any other, to pay itself this tribute of
self-esteem. It would not be strange, if it appeared, on inquiry, That
some _presumption_ had, in either case, been indulged; and had even
operated, according to the _nature_ of presumption, to the prejudice
of that claim, which, with so much confidence, has been set up. But
I have now in view, only, _one effect_ of this presumption; I mean,
the complacency which many take in supposing, That the _present age_
excels equally in _sacred_ and _secular_ learning; and, with regard to
ourselves, That _our_ theological knowledge as much surpasses that of
our forefathers at the Reformation, as _their_ knowledge did, the thick
and gross ignorance of the monkish ages.
It concerns us, for more reasons than one, not to mistake in this
matter. The direct way to decide upon it, would, no doubt, be, To
compare the best modern writers, with the ablest of those among the
Reformers, on the subject of religion. But, till ye have the leisure
or curiosity to make this comparison for yourselves, ye will pay some
regard, it may be, to the following considerations; which, at least, I
think, make it questionable, whether _our_ claims, in particular (for
the inquiry shall, for the present, be confined to them), whether, I
say, _our_ pretensions to religious knowledge have not been carried too
far. And,
1. One is tempted to ask, whether it be credible, that we of this age
should have much advantage over our Reformers, in respect of religious
knowledge, when both had an opportunity of deriving it from the same
source? You will apprehend the meaning of this question, if you
reflect, that our Reformers had not their religious system to fetch
out of the dark rolls of ancient tradition, and much less to create,
or fashion for themselves, out of their own proper stock of ingenuity
and invention. Had such been their unhappy circumstances, there would
be reason enough to presume that their system was defective. For the
first attempts towards perfection in any art, or science, will not bear
a comparison with those happier and more successful efforts, which a
length of time and continued application enable men to make. But the
case of those good men, we know, was wholly different. They had only
to copy, or, rather, to inspect, a consummate model, made to their
hands; I mean, the _sacred scriptures_, which lay open to them, as they
do to us; and, being taken by them, as we understand they were, for
their _sole_ rule of faith, what should hinder them, when they _read_
those scriptures, from seeing as distinctly, as we do at this day,
what the Gospel-terms of salvation are, and what _the erudition of a
Christian man_ should be?
Did the primitive Christians, a plain people, and taken, for the
most part, from the lowest ranks of life, did _they_ understand
their religion, when it was proposed to them, so as to have no doubt
concerning its great and leading principles; nay, so as to be the
standard of orthodoxy to all succeeding ages of the Church? and shall
we think that the ablest Doctors at the Reformation, when they had once
turned themselves to the study of the sacred volumes, could be at a
loss about the contents of them?
“Yes, it will, perhaps, be said; the primitive Christians had the
advantage of reading the scriptures in the languages in which they
were composed, or of hearing them explained, at least, by learned and
well-instructed teachers: whereas, at the Reformation, those languages
were understood by few, or none; and consequently, in those days, there
could be no persons sufficiently skilled in the sacred scriptures to
ascertain their true meaning.”
But to this charge of ignorance you will easily reply, by asking,
2. In the next place, whether it can consist with a _known fact_,
namely, That the revival of letters had preceded the Reformation
every-where, especially in England; and that the excellent persons who
took the lead in that work, were all of them, competently, and, some of
them, deeply, skilled in the learned languages?
Indeed, in the nature of the thing, it is scarce possible, that the
Reformers should be so little versed, as the objection supposes, in the
original scriptures. For, whether the _new learning_ as it was called,
had, or had not, been cultivated, _before_ the Reformation began, we
may be sure it would _then_ be cultivated with the utmost assiduity;
both, because it was a _new_ learning, that is, because the charms of
novelty would naturally engage many in the study of it; and, because
no step could be taken in the Reformation, without some proficiency
in _that_ learning. Now, if you consider, of what the human mind is
capable, when pushed on by two such active principles, as _learned
curiosity_, and _religious zeal_, you will conclude with yourselves,
even without recurring to positive testimony, that the Reformers must
needs have made an acquaintance with the authentic text: _such_ an
acquaintance, as would let them into a clear apprehension, at least,
of those doctrines, which are the _elementary_, as we may say, or
necessary ingredients in the constitution of a truly Christian Church.
If you hesitate about coming to this conclusion, the reason, I suppose,
is, that you consider the Reformers as just then emerging from the
darkness of Popery, and therefore so far blinded by the prejudices
of _that_ church[108], or by their own[109] prejudices against it,
as not to see distinctly, and at once, the true sense of Scripture,
though they might be competently skilled in the learned languages.
And, possibly, there is some truth, as well as plausibility, in this
suggestion, as applied to the case of the foreign Protestant Churches,
which were formed with too much haste, and in a time of too much heat,
to be quite free from all such exceptions. But, then, you will call to
mind,
3. _Thirdly_, that the Reformation was not carried on with us in
a precipitate tumultuary manner, as it was, for the most part, on
the Continent. On the other hand, it advanced, under the eye of the
magistrate, by slow degrees; nay, it was, more than once, checked and
kept back by him. Hence it came to pass, that there was time allowed
for taking the full benefit of all discoveries, made abroad; for
studying the chief points of controversy, with care; and for getting
rid of such mistakes, as might arise from a hasty or passionate
interpretation of holy Scripture. In short, you will reflect, that,
between the first contentions in Germany; on the account of Religion,
and the first establishment of it in the Church of England, under
Elizabeth, there was the space of near half a century: a space,
sufficient, you will think (especially, if the activity of those times
be considered) to admit all the _improvements of learning_, that were
necessary to those who had the charge of conducting the Reformation;
and all the _deliberate circumspection_, with which it was fit that so
great a work should be finally completed.
If it be said, “that the Reformers are convicted of ignorance in _one_
important part of scriptural knowledge, that of _Toleration_, and
that therefore, possibly, they have erred in others;” I reply, that
this subject had never been understood, from the first establishment
of Christianity down to the æra of the Reformation; and that the
mistakes about it had, chiefly, arisen, not from a want of seeing what
the Scriptures had revealed, but of knowing how to reconcile the New
Testament to the Old. If we are, now, able to do this, it is well.
In the mean time, let it be acknowledged, that no peculiar charge of
ignorance can be brought against the Reformers for misapprehending
a subject, not only difficult in itself, but perplexed with endless
prejudices, and not yet, as appears, quite disentangled of them. After
all, this doctrine of intolerance, though it unhappily affected the
_personal conduct_ of our Reformers, has no place in the LITURGY and
ARTICLES of our Church.
Still, perhaps, the main point, on which this question, concerning the
comparative skill of the two periods, in matters of religion, turns,
is yet untouched; which is, that the amazing progress, confessedly
made, since the æra of the Reformation, in all true _Philosophy_, must
have contributed very largely to the increase of _religious_ knowledge;
and that so much light of science, as we now enjoy, must have served to
give us a clearer insight, than our benighted ancestors had, into the
_revealed doctrines of_ Christianity.
But to this so flattering, and, at first view, not improbable,
assumption, it may be replied,
4. In the last place, That the doctrines in question, being _purely
Christian_, that is, such as it pleased God to reveal to mankind
concerning his eternal purpose in Christ Jesus,—that the doctrines, I
say, having this original, and being of this nature, have, possibly,
no communication with the discoveries of later times: that, of the
divine councils, on such a subject, we could have known nothing, if the
Revelation had been silent; and that all we _do_ know, when it speaks
clearest, is only _what_ those councils are, not on what _grounds_ of
reason they stand; whether it be, that such knowledge is unattainable
by our faculties, or that it was seen to be improper for our situation:
that, to say the least, all the efforts of the ablest men to explain
the peculiar fundamental doctrines of our religion, on the principles
of our philosophy, have not hitherto been so successful, as to make it
certain that these doctrines are indeed cognisable by human reason:
that possibly, therefore, those doctrines are the objects of _faith_,
simply, and not of knowledge; in other words, that they are no clearer
to us at this day, than they were to those plainer men, who lived in
the sixteenth century[110].
And now, if we recollect the substance of what has been said—That
our Reformers had only to consult the _Scriptures_ for a just idea of
the Christian Religion—that they were likely enough to _understand_
those Scriptures, being invited, or rather impelled, to the study of
them, by the most active principles of human nature—that they _could
not but_ understand those Scriptures in all the more important points
of doctrine, which they had so much time and occasion to consider,
and which there wanted no more than a common skill in the language
of Scripture to understand—and that, lastly, they could not have
understood those points _better_, than they did, even with all our real
or fancied skill in philosophy, because, in truth, philosophy is not
applicable to those points, being matters of pure Revelation, and not
susceptible of any additional clearness from the exertion of our best
faculties, however improved:—If these things, I say, are put together,
we shall conceive it possible for our Reformers to have acquired such
a knowledge, at least, of their religion, as not to deserve that
utter contempt, with which, on a comparison with ourselves, they are,
sometimes, treated.
But a single FACT will, perhaps, speak more conviction to you, than all
these general presumptive reasonings. When the question is, therefore,
concerning the degree of religious knowledge, which such men as Cranmer
and Ridley possessed, let it be remembered, “That Erasmus (who lived
and died before the English Reformation had made any considerable
progress, and the benefit of all whose light and knowledge those
Reformers, therefore, had) that this learned man, I say, had, in those
days, explained himself as reasonably, on almost every great topic of
revealed religion, as any writer has since done; or is now able to do.”