(Continued from page 217)

3.-ON SELF-EXAMINATION

"And Nathan said to David, Thou art the man! " (2 Sam. 12:7.)

In this striking passage of Holy Scripture we see King David in disguise brought before his own judgment seat. His judgment, as chief magistrate of his realm, is sought by the prophet upon an imaginary case of wanton and cruel oppression, the very counterpart of that which he had himself committed. David, not recognizing himself under the disguise which the prophet had thrown over him, passes sentence of death and fourfold restitution upon the imaginary offender. No sooner had the sentence gone out of the king's mouth than the prophet unmasks the figure which stood at the bar, tears away the disguise, and says to the astonished king, "'Thou art the man."

How came it that David was so incensed with cruelty and oppression in a supposed case, when he had remained so long (since his child was born when Nathan came to him, it cannot have been much short of a year) insensible to the far greater evil of his own conduct ? The reason is that we never judge of our own conduct in any matter as we do of an abstract case in which we are not ourselves mixed up, and in which our feelings, passions, and prejudices are not interested. Moralists have questioned, and there seems some reason to question, whether a man not utterly depraved can do a bad action without justifying it to his own conscience as at least excusable under the circumstances; in other words, whether evil, without a certain pretext or palliation, can ever be accepted by the human will; but the pretexts which serve to excuse ourselves will not deceive other men. We judge them, as David judged the imaginary offender in the parable, truly, and severely enough. It is the object of these pages to give some thoughts which may be practically useful on this J subject. Self-examination may be called an arraignment of ourselves at our own bar, according to that word:" If we should judge ourselves we should not be judged " (of the Lord).

It is an essential exercise to our spiritual health, to consider seriously before the Lord our conduct, and the secret purposes of the heart, in connection with our stated times of prayer and communion with God. And let it not be thought legality to practice nightly the examination of our conduct through the day that is past. We shall find it a great safeguard for the performance of duty, as well as an excellent preparative for evening prayer.

The necessity of self-examination arises from the fact, so distinctly stated in Scripture, that "the heart is deceitful above all things," and that "he that trusteth in his own heart"-in its estimation of himself-"is a fool." It has pleased God to illustrate this by examples. We take one in the Old and one in the New Testament.

It must have been by subtle evasions and plausible shifts of his own heart, that David, after committing two of the worst crimes of which our nature is capable, so long contrived to keep his conscience quiet, but at length was convicted of the desperate folly of severely condemning in another man the very faults, which, in a greatly aggravated form, he had been palliating and excusing in himself. And it was by trusting in the assurances which his heart gave him of his own strong attachment to his Master, that St. Peter, secure of himself, was betrayed into the weakness and guilt of denying Christ.

May we say that, while all characters are liable to the snare of self-deception, those are more particularly exposed to it, who, like St. Peter and David, are of warm temperaments and quick affections ? For affectionateness of disposition readily commends itself to the conscience as that which cannot be wrong; it secretly whispers to one who is conscious of possessing it, "This generous trait in you will cover and excuse many faults," while an acrid, soured character cannot natter itself that it is right with half the facility of a warm and genial one.

But how shall we bring home to ourselves the dangerousness of trusting, without due examination, to the verdict of our own hearts ? Let me do so by supposing a case in which we are all peculiarly apt to be cautious and suspicious,-the goods of this world. Suppose that the chief agent in some great enterprise is a man who, though untrustworthy, has the art of inspiring trust-fair-spoken, prepossessing in manners and appearance, and plausible in glossing over a financial difficulty. Suppose him to be a private friend to some embarked with him in the speculation, and in habits of intimacy with all. If such a person is at the head of affairs, and entrusted with the administration of the funds contributed by all, it is evident that he might impose upon the contributors to almost any extent, until the great crash comes which announces as with a clap of thunder, that they are bankrupts. Now the peril of such trust in worldly matters supplies a fair image of the peril of a still more foolish and groundless trust in spiritual things. Our hearts are most untrustworthy informants in any case where we are ourselves interested. Not only Scripture as severs this, but we confess it ourselves when we say of a matter with which we happen to be mixed up, "I am an interested party, and therefore I had better not be a judge."

But while this is our confession, there is no one in whom we habitually place more trust than in ourselves. We think we cannot be deceived respecting ourselves; the unkind, the insincere, the untrue, is not our nature;'for we have never, as I observed above, admitted these forms of evil, without first palliating and disguising them, and making them look respectable to our own consciences. Faults are admitted-in our temper and our conduct, in our feelings and actions too, for we feel we are in account with God; but we superintend the account with the assurance that we had no very bad intention; and so the whole affair will turn out well in the end.

With these strong partialities to self ever operative within us, and incapable even in the best men, of being detached from us, to what an extent may we be imposed upon in that which most vitally and nearly concerns us, if we do not from time to time call in and examine the accounts ! What frightful arrears may we be running up, unawares to ourselves, if we do not sharply check and suspiciously watch this heart which makes the account between us and God! And how may these accumulated arrears of guilt burst upon our minds with an overwhelming force " when God judges the secrets of men by Jesus Christ according to the gospel,"- when the divine sentence unmasks our sin of those excuses with which we have been palliating it, and brings it home to us with a " Thou art the man ! "

The first step in real self-examination is to be fully aware of the deceitfulness of the heart, and to pray against it, watch against it, and use every help to counteract it. But what means can we use? We offer a few practical suggestions in answer to this question.
First, as regards our acknowledged sins. We must remember that their hatefulness, if they were publicly confessed, would probably be recognized by every one but ourselves, the perpetrators. There are certain loathsome diseases, which are offensive and repulsive in the highest degree to every one but the patient. And there is a close analogy between the spiritual frame of man and his natural. If the moral disease be your own,-rooted in your character, clinging to your own heart, it never can affect you with the same disgust as if it were another man's. Therefore stand as clear as may be of the sin while you sit in judgment upon it.

In the first place, in the case of exceptional and grievous sins, might not another sometimes be called in to sit in judgment, and so a fairer sentence secured than we are competent to give ourselves ? If there be the moral courage equal to a perfectly candid avowal-such an avowal as keeps back no aggravating circumstance-and if an adviser is to be had, at once holy, discreet, and considerate, why should it not be related to such an adviser-for his counsel, prayers, and sympathy ? In wisdom, surely, Scripture says, "Confess your sins one to another, and pray for one another, that ye may be healed."

If, however, we are aware that such an exposure could not be made by us in our present state with perfect integrity,-that we should be casting about, by palliating touches to regain the forfeited esteem of him on whom we threw ourselves thus confidentially-in other words, that we are not men enough to make ourselves as vile in the eyes of our fellow-creature as we are in God's eyes-then until such moral courage is attained by us (and surely we may pray for its attainment), we must attempt to secure the same end-a fair judgment upon our sin-in another way, To stop short of exposing the whole mischief in confession to a fellow-creature, would only be to deceive him as well as ourselves, and to entangle our consciences more effectually in the snares of hypocrisy. We must take another method, and this method will apply to the more usual and common as well as to the grosser sins, of forming an impartial estimate of the evil which is in us.

Let us then suppose, by an effort of the mind, that we confessed it frankly to such and such a person, known for wisdom and goodness-how would he regard us ? What is the measure of our sin in his esteem ?-which should be the measure of it in ours also. Would there not be a shrinking from revealing to such an one, not merely sins of a gross or glaring character, but such as the world calls trifles,-omissions of private prayer; little acts of dishonesty in trade or in respect of an employer's property; falsehoods which have slipped from us in the ordinary intercourse of life; impure or sensual thoughts; allusions in conversation which might lead the mind of others in a wrong direction -things not merely suggested (for we are not accountable for the suggestions of the Devil), but secretly fondled and nourished in the chamber of the heart ? If we shrink from making such disclosures to a wise and good man, -why do we shrink? Because we feel that they would lower us in his esteem, and we have such a regard of man's esteem that we cannot bear to be placed lower in it. If a person to whom we had long given credit for a blameless and pious life should come to us, and confess the very sins to which we ourselves have recently given way, that, however good the character he maintained, yet he had lived for such and such days without prayer, had practiced or blinked at little dishonesties, or had distorted truth on such and such occasions, we might (and, no doubt, should) sympathize with the distress of mind which the confession evinced, but we could hardly help saying within ourselves, "I should never have expected this from him. I should have thought that he would be true to principle, when the stress of trial came." If this be our estimate of another who had committed our sins, should it not be the estimate which we should form of ourselves ? And is not the comparatively lenient view which we take of our own case due to that self-partiality which leavens and vitiates our whole nature ? This light in which we see the sin, as it exists in our neighbor, is the true light in which we shall see it at the last day; and to see it now in that light, while at the same time we believe that the blood of Christ has entirely cancelled it, is the great end of self-examination, and the true fulfilment of the precept:"Judge therefore yourselves, brethren, that ye be not judged of the Lord."

But the probe of self-examination needs to be applied to the better, as well as to the worse parts of our conduct. The natural heart is an adept in flatteries, not only suggesting excuses for the evil, but also heightening the colors of the good which, by God's grace, is in us. If conduct stands the test of self-examination, the motives of it should be called in question. We must do in regard to ourselves what we may never do in regard to others- suspect that an unsound motive may underlie a fair conduct. Our actions take their moral value from the motives which prompt them. Thus to discriminate what is hollow and spurious in them from what is genuine, is the second branch of self-examination.

By way of giving some serviceable hints for this investigation of our motives, it may be briefly remarked that a good part of the religious conduct of persons is usually due to custom. Again; certain proprieties and regularities of behavior, whether devotional or moral, are followed through deference to the prevailing opinions and habits of the company in which we move, as is shown sometimes by the fact that, when out in foreign parts, and no longer under this restraint, those proprieties and regularities are not so carefully maintained. Again; many good actions are done, more or less, because they are in keeping with a man's position, and gain him the praise of others. Again; works of usefulness, of a social and even of a religious nature may be undertaken from that activity of mind which is inherent in some characters, because naturally we cannot bear to be standing still,' or are not constituted for a studious, contemplative life. In works of benevolence one may find very pure pleasure, and it is quite possible that this pleasure, and not any thought of Christ's service for God's glory, may be the motive which actuates in doing it. It is no necessary mark or token of the grace of God.

Gracious or supernatural motives must at the least have respect to God and Christ, the world to come, and the welfare of the soul. The highest of them is the love of Christ; its end the glory of God. But it is probable, alas! that very few actions, even of the best men, are prompted exclusively by this motive, unalloyed with any sentiment of a baser kind. Nay, generally speaking, few are the actions which are done from unmixed motives, and our wisdom is not to be discouraged if we find, upon close self-examination, as we shall assuredly find, that much which looks well before men is hollow and defective when tried by the touchstone of God's Word. Suffice it, if with trembling confidence we are able to make out that we are under the lead of grace, and following that lead. Motives more defecated from the dregs of nature, more purely and exclusively gracious, will come, if we press towards the mark, with a greater measure of spiritual attainment. If our conscience affirms upon the whole the presence in us of earnest secret prayer, that is a cause for humble thankfulness; for how can it be prompted but by the supernatural grace of God ?

But we must hasten to bring these thoughts to a close. And let the close of a chapter, whose great scope has been to render the reader dissatisfied with himself, be devoted to assure him that this dissatisfaction will avail him nothing, except as it leads him to a perfect, joyful, and loving satisfaction with his Saviour. To have probed their own wounds, and pored over their own envenomed frames, would have availed the poisoned Israelites nothing, unless, after such a survey of their misery, they had lifted their eyes to the brazen serpent. "Look unto Him," therefore, and be ye healed. Judged by the criterion of the highest motive, nothing can be more miserably defective than the best righteousness of the best man. It flows indeed from the Holy Spirit within him; but even the influences of the Spirit derive an admixture of infirmity from flowing through the tainted channels of the human will and affections. It was not so with the Lord Jesus. In His nature was none of the moral corruption of our nature. His heart always beat true to God's glory and man's salvation, as a magnetic needle ever pointing to that great pole, not shaken even for a moment from its steadfastness by the vacillation of lower and less perfect motives. God be praised! He is made our righteousness. Delight in Him, and thou shalt be agreed with God; not having thine own righteousness which is of the law, but that which is by the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith.

( To be continued.)