Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse/On Self Knowledge
ON SELF KNOWLEDGE.
BY those who have made critical observations on the powers and pursuits of man, it has been pronounced his most uncommon acquirement, to become acquainted with himself. We may penetrate into the characters of those who surround us; we may learn the habits, dispositions, and language of foreign nations; we may become acquainted with all the peculiarities of the globe that we inhabit; the course of its rivers, the height of its mountains, and the treasures that are concealed in its secret caverns; we may follow science as she soars to the heavens, find the places of the planets, call them by their names, compute their distances; magnitude, and periods of revolution; yet if we span the whole circle of the universe, we may return and find mysteries in the little empire within, to perplex our researches, and baffle our keenest penetration. We have heard much of the "monitor within;" but whoever attempts to trace her actions to their first spring, and her designs to their real source, will be convinced that she has also an advocate within. When this advocate perceives the eye of the mind turned inward, she endeavours to elude its pursuit, but if she finds it bent on resolute search, she casts obstacles before it, spreads a veil over what it seeks to investigate, softens errors into virtues, speaks of crimes as inadvertencies, and endeavours to blind the eye of reason the judge, and to silence the voice of conscience the accuser. This is the natural pride and vanity of the human heart; it assumes as many shapes as fancy can devise; it flies from reproof, and when truth is painful "loves darkness better than light." Her object is to keep the soul ignorant of itself, to deceive it into compliance, to flatter it into submission, till her own empire is firmly established, and that bound in perpetual slavery. But both our duty and happiness require that this dominion should he broken, and the first step towards it is to think humbly of ourselves. We are beings who have received much, and are accountable for it; placed in a state of trial, with a law of rectitude before us, to see whether we will obey, or swerve from it; subject to many afflictions, liable to many errors, bearing within us much which needs to be regulated, reformed, or taken away, and bound to an eternal destination of happiness or misery. What is there in this inscription to justify vanity? Every thing around excites us to watchfulness; every thing within to humility. We should esteem it a great unhappiness to have a friend whose real sentiments were concealed from us, and whose character we could not investigate; how much more uncomfortable and dangerous, to remain ignorant of our own. Self knowledge is not the growth of an hour, or matured by a single experiment, but is attainable by perseverance, and amply rewards its toil. It is necessary to self government; for we must become acquainted with our prevailing errors, and their probable sources, before we can be successful in reforming them; we must understand the disease, before we apply the remedy. The mind, from a knowledge of her most vulnerable parts, knows better where to apply her strongest guards, how to arouse her slumbering energies to some difficult virtue, and how to quell those mutinous passions which strive for the mastery, till, like some wise monarch who has reduced his realm to submission, she at length wields her undisputed sceptre, and tranquilly exercises her hereditary rights. Self knowledge is necessary to improvement; hence, its great importance to the young, whose business it is to improve. She who wishes to acquire knowledge must be convinced that she possesses little; and if she candidly observes her own deficiencies, the limited nature of her attainments, and the imperfect use she makes of those attainments, she will feel inclined to that humble and teachable disposition which is the beginning of all wisdom. It is the attempt of vanity to repress this conviction, to make the mind contented with low degrees of knowledge, to puff it up with shewy accomplishments, because, like all despotic governments, her sway is built upon the ignorance and weakness of the subject.
Self knowledge is favourable to the virtue of candour. When we perceive errors and imperfections in others, this teaches us that we are chargeable with the same ourselves; and when we feel inclined to condemn some more visible failure, this points us within our own hearts to the same sources of frailty, and teaches us that in the same circumstances our own conduct might have been equally censurable. This represses the spirit of scandal and detraction, that friend to the misery of human life; this teaches us not to judge severely, lest we he judged; and from the conviction that we ourselves are "compassed with infirmity," excites that charitable temper which, to use the inimitable illustration of scripture, "beareth all things, forgiveth all things, and thinketh no evil."
It is favourable to our own enjoyment. Most of the repinings and discontents of mankind arise from their entertaining too high an opinion of themselves. This leads them to expect too much attention from others, and to be angry when they do not receive it; to fancy slights, ill treatment, and partiality, when there is none intended; and to be outrageous when they meet with real injuries. They become the slaves of suspicion and jealousy, and their moments of solitude are embittered with unpleasant reflections. But self knowledge teaches us not to expect more deference than we really deserve; not to be envious when others are raised above us; and not to overrate our abilities, and place ourselves in situations where we are not qualified to perform a good part. Thus it saves us much repining, unhappiness, and disgrace, leads us to be grateful for little instances of kindness, and to be patient when we are injured and misrepresented. For if those actions, which are "despised among men," have arisen from pure and disinterested motives, it teaches us to extract a pleasure from those very motives, which human applause could never have bestowed.
It is necessary for our acceptance with heaven. It excites humility; and with this we must be clothed, before we can hope for the divine favour. If an high opinion of our own merits makes us so disagreeable and disgusting to our fellow creatures, how sinful must it cause us to appear in the sight of One who sees all our hidden imperfections; whose eye pierces every disguise by which we deceive others, and possibly delude ourselves, and in whose sight our greatest follies and errors are more excusable than our pride! The assurances of his favour are given only to those of an humble and contrite heart; he has promised to bring down the "loftiness of man, to scorn the scorners, but to give grace unto the lowly."
Self knowledge is favourable to the promotion of piety. It has already been said that it is the parent of humility; and without humility there can be no piety, either in the sight of God or man. She, who cultivates an acquaintance with herself, will perceive that the frequency of her errors demands constant watchfulness, and that her strongest resolutions often betray their trust; she will feel the necessity of goodness, and her own inability to keep its law perfectly. A deep feeling of these wants and weaknesses, will teach her the necessity of divine assistance, and her dependence upon a Superior Being; and will increase the fervency of her petitions, that "what is dark he would illumine, what is low raise and support."
Do not suppose, my young friends, that a knowledge of your own hearts, will be only a source of self reproach and mortification. If the sight of latent errors gives pain to your spirit, that pain is salutary, and bears with it a sure remedy, the desire of reformation. But it will not always act the part of an accuser, it will some times point out to you disinterested motives, and virtuous actions, and present you the exquisite reward of conscious rectitude. Strive then to gain a knowledge of your own hearts, and to scrutinize carefully the actions of your lives.
"'Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours,
"And ask them what report they bore to Heaven."
Dr. Young.
Erect a tribunal within, before which the deeds of every day shall pass in nightly review. Give it power to censure folly, to encourage goodness, and to search those hidden motives which elude the eye of man. You will find yourselves both animated to virtue, and deterred from transgression by the thought of meeting, in the silence of your apartment, a condemning, or an applauding judge, an image of that tribunal before which we must all stand at the great day of scrutiny.