your

both the heart and manners of innocent youth. In them, that which was only foolishness or idle habit, becomes a crime through the force of example. Ye who profane the name of God-how do you hope that your children will feel any reverence for the Most Holy? You parents, who allow yourselves to pray thoughtlessly, whether in the morning or evening, or at the table which the bounty of the Giver of all good things provided; how can you hope that your children will learn to hold communion with their Eternal Father with an inward and happy confidence that He will hear them? Parents! it is you who through your bad example exclude the love of God and godliness from the hearts of your children. It is you who make their religion to consist only in an effort of the memory, or in old established customs-which is to destroy the vital spirit of religion. You, who are a scandal to the innocent, are they of whom Jesus saith, Woe to him by whom the offence cometh.”

Many an one has, perhaps, never seriously considered the sad consequences of the levity with which he too often profanes the name of his God: many an one has, perhaps, never rightly understood the disgracefulness and the penalty of this abuse. May he duly reflect on his own conduct, and on the evil which he unknowingly commits: and if his heart be not altogether alienated from the good way, he will tremble and repent of his sins.

There are but two efficacious methods of repressing this vice when it has become habitual. The first is, a persevering, resolute attention to all our words, so that we do not permit ourselves the slightest expression which offends against the respect we owe to the Creator of our days, and the Redeemer of our souls. The second is, a stedfast endeavour to perceive and know more clearly the greatness, might, and mercy of the Lord.

For-Heavenly Father, Thou who art full of love and compassion-how can he who hath once rightly known Thee, regard Thee with indifference, or pray to Thee with inattention? He who observes Thy greatness and wondrous power in the works of nature, or has perceived Thee in the events of his own life; how can he profane Thy Holy Name, and treat it like any worthless thing?

O Thou Supreme, at whose glorious Name all knees shall bow,-before whom all angels bend in prayer, all worlds are struck with awe-never will I disgrace myself by a want of that reverence which my poor soul owes to Thee for all the benefits Thou hast conferred upon it. Even in the outward signs of reverence will I be extremely strict-for they proclaim my inward feelings to other men, may become an example to others, and will assist my own devotion.

Father in Heaven-HALLOWED BE THY NAME!

XII.

THE OMISSION OF GOOD.

JAMES iv. 17.

"To him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin."

WHEN We speak of the worth of men-of the goodness of heart of our intimate or our distant acquaintances, how indefinite is the standard we adopt. Yes-even of our own worth we have only too often the most erroneous apprehensions. We compare ourselves with others who have been guilty of this or that imprudence; and although there may not be in our general character, the pharisaic pride so justly blamed by Jesus Christ, yet the feeling arises in our bosom which tempts us to say: "I thank God that I am not as other men are."

We commonly consider ourselves as quite entitled to account every one worse than ourselves, who may have committed a deed which we have not yet committed; which, according to our present disposition and circumstances, we would not, or in our actual situation, could not commit. Are we, therefore, better than the acknowledged delinquent?

There may, in fact, be many men who have naturally a more virtuous mind than we, and yet, through bad conduct, may bring upon themselves the contempt of their fellow-citizens, and may even deserve to be punished by the civil magistrate. Sometimes through education, sometimes through temperament, sometimes through other co-operating accidents, they are led against their will, into crimes from which our education or our fortune has kept us entirely free. Are we, therefore, better than they? Have we already experienced the most dangerous hours of trial, and happily maintained, at such times, our principles and stedfastness against the pressure of circumstances, and stormy passions?

With how hard-hearted and uncharitable a feeling have we often judged of the unfortunate precipitation of a man, who, being overtaken by anger, perhaps in a terrific moment became a murderer-was with the greatest justice apprehended by the magistrate-and suffered punishment according to the law. He became a murderer; and yet he might have been, but for the neglect of his impetuous mind, one of the best, the most charitable, the most affectionate of men, and the most intent on good. He is now certainly deserving of punishment: nothing can make amends for his disgraceful conduct. His heartfelt repentance cannot recall the past. But am I therefore, a better man than he, because I

have no manslaughter on my conscience? Dare I make a boast of my meekness and forbearance, when perhaps I have to thank only my personal timidity, my natural shyness and indolence, for these supposed virtues?

How often is the false step of a degraded girl judged with malicious exultation, or spoken of with proud contemptuous pity; and how many of her rigorous judges say to themselves with flattering egotism: "I thank God that I am not as she is!" But know, you who so judge, that the unfortunate being whom you despise, was, perhaps, more holy and chaste at heart than you. She, perhaps, loved virtue more earnestly, more cordially than you: but she might have to stand a stronger contest with her passions than you-a contest which only the Omniscient knew-till deceived and seduced, in an unhappy moment she forgot herself as well as her religious principles and sunk into infamy. You, indeed, a rigorous judge of your pitiable sister, dare to boast that you are not guilty of so great a sin but is this actually your own merit? Did your circumstances bring you into so dangerous a disposition as that in which she was placed? Was it always your love for virtue which saved you; or rather was it the fear of shame, or even the want of opportunity? Has your heart, has your imagi

nation, always remained unpolluted?

As Jesus Christ, when a sinner was brought to