or coming into it all at once with
its muddy stream. I suppose the Missouri in like manner hates the
Mississippi for diluting with its limpid, but insipid current the rich
reminiscences of the varied soils through which its own stream has
wandered. I will not compare myself, to the clear or the turbid current,
but I will own that my heart sinks when I find all of a sudden I am in
for a corner confluence, and I cease loving my neighbor as myself until
I can get away from him.

--These antipathies are at least weaknesses; they may be sins in the eye
of the Recording Angel. I often reproach myself with my wrong-doings. I
should like sometimes to thank Heaven for saving me from some kinds of
transgression, and even for granting me some qualities that if I dared I
should be disposed to call virtues. I should do so, I suppose, if I did
not remember the story of the Pharisee. That ought not to hinder me. The
parable was told to illustrate a single virtue, humility, and the most
unwarranted inferences have been drawn from it as to the whole character
of the two parties. It seems not at all unlikely, but rather probable,
that the Pharisee was a fairer dealer, a better husband, and a more
charitable person than the Publican, whose name has come down to us
"linked with one virtue," but who may have been guilty, for aught that
appears to the contrary, of "a thousand crimes." Remember how we limit
the application of other parables. The lord, it will be recollected,
commended the unjust steward because he had done wisely. His shrewdness
was held up as an example, but after all he was a miserable swindler,
and deserved the state-prison as much as many of our financial
operators. The parable of the Pharisee and the Publican is a perpetual
warning against spiritual pride. But it must not frighten any one of us
out of being thankful that he is not, like this or that neighbor,
under bondage to strong drink or opium, that he is not an Erie-Railroad
Manager, and that his head rests in virtuous calm on his own pillow. If
he prays in the morning to be kept out of temptation as well as for his
daily bread, shall he not return thanks at night that he has not fallen
into sin as well as that his stomach has been filled? I do not think the
poor Pharisee has ever had fair play, and I am afraid a good many people
sin with the comforting, half-latent intention of smiting their breasts
afterwards and repeating the prayer of the Publican.

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