"Well, I suppose the object of Christian effort should be so to realize the character of our Savior, and conform our tastes and sympathies to his, that we shall _instinctively_ avoid all in our conversation that would be displeasing to him. A person habitually indulging jealous, angry, or revengeful feeling--a person habitually worldly in his spirit--a person allowing himself in sceptical and unsettled habits of thought, _cannot_ talk without doing harm. This is our Savior's account of the matter in the verses immediately before the passage we were speaking of--'How _can_ ye, being evil, speak good things? for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh. A good man out of the good treasure of his heart bringeth forth good things, and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart bringeth forth evil things.' The highest flow of animal spirits would never hurry a pure-minded person to say any thing indelicate or gross; and in the same manner, if a person is habitually Christian in all his habits of thought and feeling, he will be able without irksome watchfulness to avoid what may be injurious even in the most unrestrained conversation." HOW DO WE KNOW? It was a splendid room. Rich curtains swept down to the floor in graceful folds, half excluding the light, and shedding it in soft hues over the fine old paintings on the walls, and over the broad mirrors that reflect all that taste can accomplish by the hand of wealth. Books, the rarest and most costly, were around, in every form of gorgeous binding and gilding, and among them, glittering in ornament, lay a magnificent Bible--a Bible too beautiful in its appointments, too showy, too ornamental, ever to have been meant to be read--a Bible which every visitor should take up and exclaim, "What a beautiful edition! what superb bindings!" and then lay it down again. And the master of the house was lounging on a sofa, looking over a late review--for he was a man of leisure, taste, and reading--but, then, as to reading the Bible!--_that_ forms, we suppose, no part of the pretensions of a man of letters. The Bible--certainly he considered it a very _respectable_ book--a fine specimen of ancient literature--an admirable book of moral precepts; but, then, as to its divine origin, he had not exactly made up his mind: some parts appeared strange and inconsistent to his reason--others were revolting to his taste: true, he had never studied it very attentively, yet such was his _general impression_ about it; but, on the whole, he thought it well enough to keep an elegant copy of it on his drawing room table. So much for one picture. Now for another.