endeavors after humility! Such irresolution in my
firmest purposes! So much imperfection in my best actions! So much want
of simplicity in my purest designs! Such fresh shoots of selfishness
where I had hoped the plant itself had been eradicated! Such frequent
deadness in duty! Such coldness in my affections! Such infirmity of
will! Such proneness to earth in my highest aspirations after heaven!
All these you see would hardly make, in the eyes of those who want
Christian discernment, very gross sins; yet they prove demonstrably the
root of sin in the heart, and the infection of nature tainting my best
resolves."

"The true Christian," said I, when Mr. Stanley had done speaking,
"extracts humility from the very circumstance which raises pride in the
irreligious. The sight of any enormity in another makes the mere
moralist proud that he is exempt from it, while the religious man is
humbled from a view of the sinfulness of that nature he partakes, a
nature which admits of such excesses, and from which excesses he knows
that he himself is preserved by divine grace alone. I have often
observed that comparison is the aliment of pride in the worldly man, and
of self-abasement in the Christian."

Poor Lady Belfield looked comforted on finding that her friend Mr.
Stanley was not quite so perfect as she had feared. "Happy are those,"
exclaimed she, looking at Lucilla, "the innocence of whose lives
recommends them to the divine favor."

"Innocence," replied Mr. Stanley, "can never be pleaded as a ground of
acceptance, because the thing does not exist. Innocence excludes the
necessity of repentance, and where there is no sin, there can be no need
of a Saviour. Whatever therefore we may be in comparison with others,
innocence can afford no plea for our acceptance, without annulling the
great plan of our redemption."

"One thing puzzles me," said Lady Belfield. "The most worthless people I
converse with deny the doctrine of human corruption, a doctrine the
truth of which one should suppose their own feelings must confirm; while
those few excellent persons who almost seem to have escaped it, insist
the most peremptorily on its reality. But if it be really true, surely
the mercies of God are so great that he will overlook the frailties of
such weak and erring mortals. So gracious a Saviour will not exact such
rigorous obedience from creatures so infirm."

"Let not what I am going to say, my dear Lady Belfield," replied Mr.
Stanle