Gal. vi. 3.

If a man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself.

This is one of those many passages in the sacred writings, in which the simplicity of the expression is apt to make us overlook the profound sense contained under it. Who doubts, it may be said, the truth of so general an axiom, as this? and what information, worth treasuring up in the memory, is conveyed by it?

In answer to such questions, as these, it may be observed, That the inspired writers are not singular in this practice; the moral wisdom of all nations, and, in particular, that of the ancient Pagan sages (whom these objectors, no doubt, reverence) being usually conveyed in such large and general aphorisms: and, further, that many good reasons may be given for this mode of instruction.

First, the necessity of the thing, in times, when men have not been accustomed to refine on moral subjects: it is also necessary in another sense, in order to convey the rules of life in some reasonable compass. Good sense in moral matters is but the experience of observing men, the result of which must be given in compendious parcels or collections; otherwise the memory is loaded too much; besides that neither the leisure, nor the talents of those, for whom these lessons are designed, will serve for nicer disquisitions.

Secondly, if this mode of teaching were not necessary, it would still be preferable to any other for its own proper dignity. A philosopher in the schools, or a divine in his closet, may deduce the laws of morality with a minute exactness. But the authority of an Apostle disdains this care, and awakens the consciences of men by some general precept, by some large and comprehensive observation. It becomes the majesty of his character to deliver the principles of right conduct in few and weighty words: his precepts are Laws; and his observations, Oracles: it is for others to speculate upon them with curiosity, and draw them out into systems.

Thirdly, sometimes the very address of a writer leads him to generalize his observations. It is, when a more direct and pointed manner would press too closely on the mind, and, by making the application necessary, indispose us to conviction; whereas, when a reproof presents itself in this form, less offence is likely to be given by it, the application being left, in a good degree, to ourselves.

This last, we shall find, was the case of St. Paul in the text; in whose behalf, therefore, we need not, in the present instance, plead the necessity, the convenience, or the dignity of this method of instruction; though these reasons, we see, might, on other occasions, be very justly alledged.

For, to come now to the aphorism in the text—If a man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceiveth himself—as trivial as this general truth may appear at first sight, we shall perceive, by turning to the context, that the inspired writer applies it with infinite address to mortify the pride of some persons, against whom the tenour of his discourse is there directed. For certain false teachers, it seems, had very early crept into the churches of Galatia, who arrogated a superior wisdom to themselves, and, on the credit of this claim, presumed to impose the yoke of Jewish ordinances on the Gentile converts: in direct opposition to the injunctions of the Apostle, who had lately planted these churches; and in manifest violation of Christian charity, which forbad those grievous burthens to be laid on the consciences of believers.

One natural feature in the character of these vain-glorious boasters, 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.