will many a man say, "shall I be strictly good, seeing goodness is so liable to be misused? Had I not better be contented with a mediocrity and obscurity of goodness, than by a glaring lustre thereof to draw the envious eye and kindle raging obloquy upon me?" And when the credit of virtue is blasted in its practices, many will be diverted from it. So will it grow out of request, and the world be corrupted by these agents of the EVIL ONE. It were adviseable, upon this consideration, not to seem ever to detract, even not then when we are assured that, by speaking ill, we shall not really do it; if we should discover any man to seem worthy, or to be so reputed, whom yet we discern, by standing in a nearer light, not to be truly such, yet wisdom would commonly dictate, and goodness dispose, not to mar his repute. If we should observe, without danger of mistake, any plausible action to be performed out of bad inclinations, principles, or designs, yet ordinarily in discretion and honesty, we should let it pass with such commendation as its appearance may procure, rather than slur it by venting our disadvantageous apprehensions about it; for it is no great harm that any man should enjoy undeserved commendation; our granting its claims is but being over just, which, if it ever be a fault, can hardly be so in this case, wherein we do not expend any cost or suffer any damage; but it may do mischief to blemish any appearance of virtue: it may be a wrong thereto, to deface its very image; the very disclosing of hypocrisy doth inflict a wound on goodness, and exposeth it to scandal, for bad men will then be prone to infer that all virtue doth proceed from the like bad principles; so the disgrace cast on that which is spurious, will redound to the prejudice of that which is most genuine. And if it be good to forbear detracting from that which is certainly false, much more so in regard to that which is possibly true; and far more still is it so in respect to that which is clear and sure.

CENSORIOUSNESS is another sin of the same classanother child of the same family varying, however, from those we have already considered by acting not so

much in the way of reporting faults as in condemning them. It is different from slander, inasmuch as it assumes, that what it condemns is true; and from detraction, inasmuch as it is not exercised with an intention to injure another in public estimation, but only to reprove him for what is wrong. It assumes the character, not of a witness, but of a judge: hence the injunction, "Judge not." Censoriousness, then, means a disposition to scrutinize men's motives-to pass sentence upon their conduct to reproach their faults,-accompanied by an unwillingnss to make all reasonable allowances for their mistakes, and a tendency to the side of severity rather than to that of leniency. We are not to suppose that all inspection and condemnation of the conduct of others is sin; nor that all reproof of offenders is a violation of the law of charity; nor that we are to think well of our neighbours, in opposition to the plainest evidence; nor that we are to entertain such a credulous opinion of the excellence of mankind, as unsuspectingly to confide in every man's pretences: but what we condemn, is needlessly inquiring into the conduct and motives of other men; examining and arraigning them at our bar, when we stand in no relation to them that requires such a scrutiny; delivering our opinion when it is not called for; pronouncing sentence with undue severity, and heaping the heaviest degree of reproach upon an offender which we can find language to

express.

"The world is become so extremely critical and censorious, that in many places the chief employment of men, and the main body of conversation, is, if we mark it, taken up in judging; every company is a court of justice, every seat becometh a tribunal, at every_table standeth a bar, whereunto all men are citedwhereat every man, as it happeneth, is arraigned and sentenced; no sublimity or sacredness of dignity—no integrity or innocence of life-no prudence or circumspection of demeanour, can exempt any person from it. Not one escapes being taxed under some odious name or scandalous character or other. Not only the

outward actions and visible practices of men are judged, but their retired sentiments are brought under reviewtheir inward dispositions have a verdict passed upon them-their final states are determined. Whole bodies of men are thus judged at once; and nothing is it in one breath to damn whole churches-at one push to throw down whole nations into the bottomless pit: yea, God himself is hardly spared, his providence coming under the bold obloquy of those who,-as the Psalmist speaketh of some in his time, whose race does yet survive,-speak loftily, and set their mouth against the heavens. Barrow, in order to censure this temper gives the following qualifications of a judge. He should be appointed by competent authority, and not intrude himself into office. To how many censors may we say, "Who made thee a judge ?" He should be free from all prejudice and partiality. Is this the case with the censorious? He should never proceed to judgment, without a careful examination of the case, so as well to understand it. Let the private self-appointed judges remember this, and act upon the principle of Solomon"He that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it is a folly and a shame to him." He should never pronounce sentence but upon good grounds, after certain proof and full conviction. If this rule were observed, how many censures would be prevented. He will not meddle with causes beyond the jurisdiction of his court. If this were recollected and acted upon, the voice of unlawful censure would die away in silence; for who are we, that we should try the hearts and search the reigns of men, or judge another's servant? He never proceeds against any man, without citing him to appear, either in person or by his representative, and giving him an opportunity to defend himself. When any one is censured in company, there should always be found some generous mind, who, would propose that the accused should be sent for, and the trial put off till he appeared. He must pronounce, not according to private fancy, but to public and established laws. Is this the rule of the censorious? Is it not rather their custom to

make their own private opinion the law? He should be a person of great knowledge and ability. What is the usual character of the private censors? are they not persons of great ignorance and few ideas, who, for want of something else to say, or ability to say it, talk of their neighbours' faults,-a topic on which a child or a fool can be fluent? He is not an accuser; and moreover is, by virtue of his office, council for the accused. On the contrary, the censorious are, generally, not only judges but accusers, and council against the culprits whom they have brought to their bar. He should lean, as far as the public good will allow to the side of mercy: but mercy has no place in the bosom of the censorious, and their very justice is cruelty and oppression. He must himself be innocent. Why is there not a voice heard in every company, when the prisoner is arraigned, and the process of judgment begins, saying, "He that is without sin, let him cast the first stone?" He proceeds with solemnity and grief, and slowness, to pass the sentence. But what indecent haste and levity, not excepting joy, do we witness in those who are given to the practice of censuring their neighbour's conduct.*

Now, to all these sinful practices Christian love stands directly opposed. It is a long time before it allows itself to perceive the faults of others. Not more quick is instinct in the bird, or beast, or fish, of prey, to discover its victim, than the detractor and the censorious are to descry imperfections as soon as they appear in the conduct of those around them. Their vision is quite telescopic, to see objects of this kind at a distance, and they have a miscroscopic power of inspection, to examine those that are small and near and, when looking at faults, they always employ the highest magnifying power which their instrument admits of: while for the purpose of looking at those spots, which to the naked eye would be lost amidst the surrounding glory, they carry a darkened glass. They do not want to see virtues: no; all that isfair, and good, and lovely, is passed over in quest

Dr. Barrow's Sermons.

of deformity and evil. But all this is utterly abhorrent to the nature of love; which, intent upon the well-being of mankind, and anxious for their happiness, is ever looking out for the signs and the symptoms which betoken that the sum of human felicity is perpetually increasing. The eye of the Christian philanthropist is so busily employed in searching for excellence, and so fixed and so ravished by it when it is found, that it is sure to pass over many things of a contrary nature, as not included in the object of its inquiry; just as he who is searching for gems is likely to pass by many common stones unheeded; or as he who is looking for a particular star or constellation in the heavens, is not likely to see the tapers which are near him upon earth. Good men are his delight; and to come at these, very many of the evil generation are passed by: and there is also a singular power of abstraction in his benevolence, to separate, when looking at a mixed character, the good from the evil, and, losing sight of the latter, to concentrate its observation in the former.

And when love is obliged to admit the existence of imperfections, it diminishes as much as possible their magnitude, and hides them as much as is lawful from its own notice. It takes no delight in looking at them, finds no pleasure in keeping them before its attention, and poring into them; but turns away from them, as an unpleasant object, as a delicate sense would from whatever is offensive. If we find an affinity between our thoughts and the sins of which we are the spectators, it is a plain proof that our benevolence is of a very doubtful nature, or in a feeble state; on the contrary, if we involuntarily turn away our eyes from beholding evil, and are conscious to ourselves of a strong revulsion, and an accute distress, when we cannot altogether retire from the view of it, we possess an evidence that we know much of that virtue which covereth all things. If we are properly, as we ought to be, under the influence of love, we shall make all reasonable allowances for those things which are wrong in the conduct of our neighbour; we shall, as we have already considered,