The Pharisees treated others with scornful contempt, especially those whom they deemed to be of notorious character. Theirs was not like Christianity, the religion of compassion--the religion, that, deriving its characteristic peculiarities from its Author, pities the deluded, sympathises with the miserable, seeks to reclaim the criminal, and marks the tears of the penitent; but "trusting in themselves that they were righteous, they despised others." Disregardful, however, of the sneers or reproaches which she might have to encounter, this penitent woman presses to the house of the Pharisee, because Jesus was a guest. Her object was not concealment, but forgiveness; she was willing to be rebuked, so that she might be saved; and while by obtruding in this manner into the house of Simon, she exposed herself to the insults which her dissolute habits would be likely to incur, she courageously adopted a course of proceeding which brought her under the most solemn obligations to future chastity and holiness of life. She was willing that the whole assembly or city should witness her change, and that the reality of her penitence, and the strength of her attachment to Christ, should be as notorious as her former irregularities. Her courage, then, demands notice, and deserves imitation. What might be the opinion of the motley assemblage who were the spectators of her conduct, seemed to have had no influence upon her mind; but obeying the impulse of sorrow for sin, and hope in Jesus, she dismissed every thought of personal exposure, and with tears of undissembled grief, hastened to him who was "full of grace and truth." Timorousness, arising from an undue regard to the world, is too often a hinderance to religious profession. Persons who have been awakened to some sense of the evil of sin, and have perceived the importance, while they have felt in some degree the claims of piety, frequently, alas! have been deterred from that avowal of their sentiments, which is essential to verify their convictions, and to honour God in the eyes of men. They would be servants of Christ, if they were not slaves to human opinion: they would go to Jesus, if it were not in the observers who stand around: they would renounce the world, if they could avoid reproach: they would, in a word, be decided, but they dare not be singular! We are required to "_confess_ Christ _before men_," and it is only by such a confession we can evince the sincerity of our attachment. Jesus Christ was not ashamed to call us _brethren_, to assume our nature, to fill our humble station, to suffer our sorrows, and to die an ignominious death:--he is not ashamed to own his connexion with us, now he is ascended into the highest heavens, or to be engaged in preparing a place for us amidst the mansions of glory. Shall we be ashamed of him, or his cause? Shall we be afraid to avow our regard, if we feel it?