whether winning smiles, courteous manners, and delicate attentions are observed towards those with whom nature has most closely allied us; and while the world caresses, courts and flatters us, we are unconscious of the reproaches which, not loud but deep, are spoken by the inmates of our dwelling, in tearful eyes, in timid voices, care-worn cheeks, and cloudy brows. So, if our characters stand fair with the world for honesty, sobriety, and integrity, we fancy that we are free from guilt, and the world too often confirms us in the opinion.

In farther illustration of this subject, it may be remarked, that we often read and talk of states, which are ill governed; we freely comment upon the unwise acts of legislators; we expose the errors into which rulers fall in the government of their subjects. Again conscience might exclaim to many of us, "Thou art the man!" She might show us an ill-regulated household, and a mismanaged family: she might remind us of extravagance on the one hand, or of parsimony on the other she might point to habits of irregularity, disorder, and neglect, by which our substance was wasted, and our respectability diminished: she might show us our children abandoned to themselves; their minds uninstructed, their tempers uncontrolled, their hearts unimproved, mental, moral and religious culture alike neglected and she might say to many a parent, who is, alas! unconscious of his error,-" Behold a nursery for future wretchedness and guilt!" Such is an illustration of those minor faults, as they are accustomed to be called, and of the relation which they bear to crimes of deeper dye; and I think I am justified in saying that these faults of temper and of discipline, which not unfrequently escape our own notice, and that of others

also, are as injurious, and often more injurious, to the interests and happiness of mankind, than errors which, in themselves considered, are of greater magnitude.

In connexion with this part of my subject, I would also observe, with reference to the public addresses which are delivered from the pulpit, how prone we are to imagine that the exposure of faults and follies applies to any one rather than to ourselves. When, especially, habits of a personal, social or domestic nature become the topics of the preacher's discourse, we tax our memory and our sagacity, to discover for whom the censure may be intended, or to whom it correctly applies. We think we see or know an individual whom it precisely suits, and our charitable concerns for his best interests bids us hope that he may take it to himself, and profit accordingly. But if the still small voice within were suffered to be heard, it might unceasingly cry to the busiest inquisitor into others' faults, "Thou art the man." Yet, how seldom do we admit the charge. Which of us even ventures to ask himself, "Am I the man to whom this censure can apply? Is it possible that the fault now described, can be my fault? Do I, though ignorantly, indulge in it?" Thus blind and frail, let our prayer to Heaven be, "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts; and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting."

Whatever excellence our characters may display, it is unsafe to confide too much in its possession, and to consider it impregnably secure. The great Apostle never uttered a weighter maxim than this, "Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed, lest he fall." It

is wise frequently to examine whether there are not points in our character which require no extraordinary vigilance, caution and defence; it is wise narrowly to inquire whether we have not been, in some degree, weakened at these points; like the skilful general, who finds out the most assailable position of his army, and takes care both to make it doubly strong, and attentively to inspect it from time to time, lest by any chance the arrangements he has made should prove insecure. It is wise, always rather to suspect ourselves of retaining the common faults and failings of our race, than to flatter ourselves that we are entirely exempt from them. When once this valuable habit of vigilance and self-suspicion is acquired, we shall learn at once how to secure and improve our virtues, and to correct our errors, and guard against the encroachment of others.

II. From this passage in the history of David, we may be instructed, not to be censorious or harsh in our judgments of merit, character, and conduct.

David, upon hearing of an imaginary act of cruelty and injustice, similar to his own real crime, became so indignant and incensed, that he thought that nothing less than the death of the offender could expiate the guilt. If the rich oppressor in the parable had been a real criminal, the monarch would probably have revoked the sentence, and decreed a more lenient punishment, when he discovered that he himself had been guilty of a similar offence. Thus an acquaintance with our own frailty will make us lenient to the faults of others; at least, we shall hesitate to condemn them, until we have rigidly examined our own conduct. If we then stand self-convicted of the same or similar er

rors, we shall not be foremost among those who denounce an offender; and be more clamorous than the rest, in order to drown the cry of conscience, "Thou art the man:" but we shall humbly and pensively withdraw to the quiet retirement of our own hearts, weep for our erring brother, and shed tears of twofold bitterness because his guilt was ours.

"If we would judge ourselves, we should not be judged;" if, too, we would judge ourselves, we should judge less harshly of others. There are few failings more common, than that of a disposition to censure and ridicule. The world is sufficiently unkind in its remarks ; and there are persons whose great delight it is to detect and expose even those trifling inaccuracies and peculiarities of demeanor which for the most part escape our notice, and to magnify them into great faults. There are many, who, either from a spirit of uncharitableness, or from a desire to amuse others by a display of their wit and power of satire, or from a consciousness of their own failings, which they hope to hide, while they direct attention to the failings of others, seek diligently in the conduct of their neighbors, for topics upon which they may vent their spleen or exercise their ridicule. However severely this spirit is to be condemned, it must be acknowledged that it is highly desirable that our own characters should, as little as possible, furnish themes for just censure or derision. Errors and failings, which in themselves may be trifling, will infallibly arrest the attention of a sneering and criticising world, and unless corrected, will make us among many men the objects of laughter, scorn or calumny. As much of our comfort, respectability and usefulness must depend on our free

dom from such defects, we ought not to deem them unworthy of our careful correction. By narrowly observing our own tempers, tastes and habits, and detecting all that is faulty, we shall save others the trouble of detecting it for us, and escape the censure, which they will freely bestow, if the discovery be left to them. The experience which we shall thus have gained of the difficulty of detecting and reforming our errors will surely teach us the folly of being too ready to sneer at others' follies, and frown at others' faults, lest, like the king of Israel, we be found to pronounce our own condemnation. Even selfish considerations, therefore, will make us tardy and lenient in bestowing our censure upon the errors of our brethren. And though we may imagine that we have become thoroughly acquainted with our own characters and dispositions, others may see peculiarities in us which escape our notice. In the faults and follies of our neighbors, let us therefore see so many warnings to ourselves; and happy would it be for the world, if this were more often the use to which we applied our knowledge of other men's guilt and folly; happy would it be if, when we observed the failings of others, we veiled them as much as possible from public view, pitied and forbore to think too harshly, and asked ourselves, as we contemplated each instance of frail humanity, "Do I resemble it, or is my conduct irreproachable?"

III. We may learn to imitate the courage and ingenuousness of David in acknowledging his guilt,

When Nathan the prophet charged the King of Israel with the crime of which he had been guilty, it was under circumstances calculated to aggravate the mortification, and almost to arouse the anger, of the king. He