We question if this is felt as it ought to be. We fear there is a light, flippant, easy-going style in reference to sin and failure, which must be very grievous indeed to the Spirit of God. We rest content with the mere lip-confession, without the deep, heartfelt sense of the evil of sin in God’s sight. The thing itself is not judged in its moral roots, and, as a consequence of this trifling with sin, the heart becomes hard, and the conscience loses its tenderness. _This is very serious._ We know of few things more precious than a tender conscience. We do not mean a _scrupulous_ conscience, which is governed by its own crotchets; or a _morbid_ conscience, which is governed by its own fears. Both these are most troublesome guests for any one to entertain. But we mean a _tender_ conscience, which is governed, in all things, by the Word of God, and which refers, at all times, to His authority. This sound description of conscience we consider an inestimable treasure. It regulates every thing, takes cognizance of the very smallest matter connected with our daily walk and habits—our mode of dress, our houses, our furniture, our table, our entire deportment, spirit, and style, our mode of conducting our business, or if it be our lot to serve others, the mode in which we discharge the service, whatever it be. In short, every thing falls under the healthful moral influence of a tender conscience. “Herein,” says the blessed apostle, “do I exercise myself, to have _always_ a conscience void of offense toward God and men.” (Acts xxiv. 16.) This is what we may well covet. There is something morally beautiful and attractive in this exercise of the greatest and most gifted servant of Christ. He, with all his splendid gifts, with all his marvelous powers, with all his profound insight into the ways and counsels of God, with all he had to speak of and glory in, with all the wonderful revelations made to him in the third heavens; in a word, he, the most honored of apostles and privileged of saints, gave holy diligence to keep always a conscience void of offense both toward God and man; and if, in an unguarded moment, he uttered a hasty word, as he did to Ananias the high-priest, he was ready, the very next moment, to confess and make restitution, so that the hasty utterance, “God shall smite thee, thou whited wall,” was withdrawn, and God’s Word given instead—“Thou shalt not speak evil of the ruler of thy people.”