A distinguished writer observes, that St. Paul, in the above description of charity, had certain characters in view, whom he wished to wound through the medium of an abstract delineation, rather than expose them by personal or local references. In doing this, he acted like a surgeon, who once enclosed a lancet in a sponge, which he applied to a breast that wanted opening, under a pretence of washing it, and by that delicate method at once prevented the fears of his patient and performed the operation that restored her health. But it should seem that the apostle had to do with persons more impressible by the strokes of his cutting pen, than those whom, in the present day, an easy and callous profession hath rendered impenetrable by the lancet of truth, however smooth its edge, however soft the medium through which it passes, and however delicate the operation throughout. Men, long accustomed to the favorite element of teaching, dictating, and reproving others, seem to claim an exclusive right of using the lancet themselves. And, if they have learned to call rudeness and rusticity of manners, or ill-timed reprehension, by the sacred name of _faithfulness_, that word so much abused in the mouths of the forward and impetuous, the disease becomes almost incurable. It is in vain that the lancet directed against themselves be oiled or enveloped in sponge by the most cautious hand. A hint will awaken their resentment, and the most delicate wound given to the vulnerable part will only send them into company to give vent to their malignant feelings, by copious effusions of slander and invective, or make them ascend a pulpit to scold and storm there. Yet the former is called honesty or faithfulness, and the latter, to the scandal of the most sacred and lovely exercise, is termed _preaching_. If any thing be more surprising than this, it is, that the one should meet with defenders, and the other with private patrons. But what is it, which the ignorance, the false zeal, and the wickedness of some will not prompt them to defend? With such, the grand plea is, that the _truth_ is spoken. But it is this very fact that is the grand aggravation. Let religion be only left out of the question, and our complaints cease. But to borrow its sacred name as a vehicle of conveyance for gall and wormwood, and then to quote it in justification of the most unhallowed tempers, is a double inconsistency, equally fraught with false reasoning and sin. This is to furnish an answer to a question proposed by St. James, to which he thought none but a negative one could be given. “Doth a fountain send forth at the same place _sweet_ water and _bitter_?” “Yes,” may some say, “we will undertake to exemplify this phenomenon, by making our tongues the vehicle of malignity and grace.” We would hope, however, for the honor of religion, and the credit of the apostle’s metaphor, that the _malignity only_, in many instances, comes from the