on of opinion. What she said she meant,
whether in praise or in censure; and no one could say she was a
flatterer or a cynic.

On a certain occasion, in conversation with Miss Button, she observed to
her, "I was much pleased with that landscape painting which I saw in
your parlour the last time I was at your house. Your mother said that it
was one you did while at Manor House School."

"Yes, Miss Slater," she replied, "it was done by me; but it is a very
inferior piece; not half so good as it might have been."

"I think it is very good indeed: so true to nature. The trees, the
clouds, the birds, the river, and in fact the whole of it commends
itself to my approval. It does you great credit and contains very good
promise for the future, if you continue in the exercise of painting."

"You are, indeed, quite mistaken in your judgment, Miss Slater. It is
really not up to most of my other paintings. I am ashamed of it, and
have often said it is not worthy the beautiful frame which father had
made for it."

Now, if Miss Slater had expressed herself in censure upon any
particular part, Miss Button would probably have shown signs of
uneasiness, if not displeasure.

Under this class of talkers may be mentioned those professors of
religion who affect failings which they know they have not, and who
acknowledge sins of which they know they are not guilty, for the sake of
being reckoned among those who make a merit of "voluntary humility."
They are among the "most unworthy of God's saints." They are the "vilest
of the vile," "not fit to have a name or a place among Christ's people;"
"their righteousness is filthy rags;" they are the "chief of sinners."

Now, there is little doubt that these words are perfectly true; only,
the question is, whether they themselves really believe them to be so.
It often occurs that these "great sinners," these "vilest of the vile,"
while forward to say such things of themselves, are the last to admit
them as true when said of them by others.

This reminds one of an instance in which a member of a Church was giving
way to this kind of self-disparagement, when a fellow member responding
to him said, "True, my brother, you are among the greatest of sinners;"
when he instantly warmed up in self-defence, and replied, "I am no
greater sinner than you are; look at home before you accuse other
people."

It also reminds one of the old story of the monk who heard the
confession of a certain cardinal.