SERMON IV

SELF-KNOWLEDGE

And David's anger was greatly kindled against the man: and he said to Nathan, As the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die, &c. And Nathan said to David, Thou art the man.

TH

2 SAMUEL Xii. 7, 1st part.

HERE is no historical passage in Scripture, which gives a more remarkable

instance of the deceitfulness of the heart of man to itself, and of how little we truly know of ourselves, than this, wherein David is convicted out of his own mouth, and is led by the prophet to condemn and pronounce a severe judgment upon another, for an act of injustice, which he had passed over in himself, and possibly reconciled to his own conscience. To know one's self, one would think could be no very difficult lesson; for who you'll say can well be truly ignorant of himself and the true disposition of his own heart? If a man thinks at all, he cannot be a stranger to what passes there he must be conscious of his own thoughts and desires, he must remember

his past pursuits, and the true springs and motives which in general have directed the actions of his life: he may hang out false colours and deceive the world, but how can a man deceive himself? That a man can is evident, because he daily does so. - Scripture tells us, and gives us many historical proofs of it, besides this to which the text refers "that the heart of man is treacherous to itself and deceitful above all things," and experience and every hour's commerce with the world confirms the truth of this seeming paradox, "That though man is the only creature endowed with reflection, and consequently qualified to know the most of himselfyet so it happens, that he generally knows the leastand with all the power which God has given him of turning his eyes inward upon himself, and taking notice of the chain of his own thoughts and desires - yet, in fact, is generally so inattentive, but always so partial an observer of what passes, that he is as much, nay often, a much greater stranger to his own disposition and true character, than all the world besides."

By what means he is brought under so manifest a delusion, and how he suffers himself to be so grossly imposed upon in a point which

he is capable of knowing so much better than others, is not hard to give an account of, nor need we seek farther for it, than amongst the causes which are every day perverting his reason and misleading him. We are decided in judging of ourselves, just as we are in judging of other things, when our passions and inclinations are called in as counsellors, and we suffer ourselves to see and reason just so far and no farther than they give us leave. How hard do we find it to pass an equitable and sound judgment in a matter where our interest is deeply concerned! - and even where there is the remotest consideration of SELF, connected with the point before us, what a strange bias does it hang upon our mind, and how difficult is it to disengage our judgments entirely from it! with what reluctance are we brought to think evil of a friend whom we have long loved and esteemed and though there happens to be strong appearances against him, how apt are we to overlook or put favourable constructions upon them, and even sometimes, when our zeal and friendship transport us, to assign the best and kindest motives for the worst and most unjustifiable parts of his conduct!

We are still worse casuists, and the deceit is

proportionably stronger with a man, when he is going to judge of himself—that dearest of all parties, so closely connected with him so much and so long beloved- of whom he has so early conceived the highest opinion and esteem, and with whose merit he has all along, no doubt, found so much reason to be contented. It is not an easy matter to be severe, where there is such an impulse to be kind, or to efface at once all the tender impressions in favour of so old a friend, which disabled us from thinking of him as he is, and seeing him in the light, may be, in which every one else sees him.

So that however easy this knowledge of one's self may appear at first sight, it is otherwise when we come to examine; since not only in practice, but even in speculation and theory, we find it one of the hardest and most painful lessons. Some of the earliest instructors of mankind, no doubt, found it so too, and for that reason, soon saw the necessity of laying such a stress upon this great precept of selfknowledge, which, for its excellent wisdom and usefulness, many of them supposed to be a divine direction; that it came down from heaven, and comprehended the whole circle

both of the knowledge and the duty of man. And indeed their zeal might easily be allowed in so high an encomium upon the attainment of a virtue, the want of which so often baffled their instructions, and rendered their endeavours of reforming the heart vain and useless. For who could think of a reformation of the faults without him, who knew not where they lay, or could set about correcting, till he had first come to a sense of the defects which required it ?

But this was a point always much easier recommended by public instructors than shown how to be put in practice: and therefore others, who equally sought the reformation of mankind, observing that this direct road which led to it was guarded on all sides by self-love, and consequently very difficult to open access, soon found out that a different and more artful course was requisite; as they had not strength to remove this flattering passion which stood in their way and blocked up all the passages to the heart, they endeavoured by stratagem to get beyond it, and by a skilful address, if possible, to deceive it. This gave rise to the early manner of conveying their instructions in parables, fables,