religious affairs, or to seem religious. Where we ought to acquire honour by our creed, we dread to meet with derision; where by a sense of holiness we might secure respect, we tremble for fear of being misinterpreted. We are unwilling to be more particular than the great crowd around us, and we become as unjust to ourselves, as infirm of purpose, and as lukewarm as the multitude. Thus, at last, a man accustoms himself to love prudence better than virtue; he values the refinements of life more

than Christian-like purity of heart. He cares more for his body than his mind. Why should not wisdom be consistent with unsullied virtue-why should not a liberal style of life agree with a pious disposition towards God? To be a zealous imitator of Jesus, holy names and words are not at all times necessary-but holy deeds. The world is not yet so sunk into the abyss of evil, that noble acts are become a shame; philanthropy, a curse; mercy, an object of derision. Whence, therefore, is that false shame in the concerns of religion? Why should a man be shy of confessing: 'I do this thing, because it is my duty; because it is imposed by God upon me; because otherwise I should not be worthy to participate in the hopes of eternity. I pray, because an intercourse with the Most High ennobles me. I frequent the public service of Christians, because my heart has constant need of being

refreshed and strengthened by the Divine Word. I live as a Christian, as a child of God; and so will I live, because I shall die-because I shall die, in order that I may live for ever.'

Lukewarmness in religion originates very frequently in a relaxation of the powers of the soul, by the habits and cares of daily life. For the man who is surrounded from morning to night with the objects of his official or domestic occupations; or is engaged with the thoughts of his earnings or anticipated pleasures; or is absorbed by dissatisfaction on account of some injury sustained-or by other trifling temporary objects-very easily forgets himself and his higher nature and destiny, in the multitude of his pursuits and cares. He too readily makes the providing for a livelihood, or worldly joys and sorrows, the chief business of his days; and religion, the very life, the vital breath of the soul, becomes a secondary object. He practises it only

in leisure hours: he loves it not-he lives not in it. He becomes imperceptibly lukewarm and neglectful-instead of virtuous, only circumspect-instead of pious, only decent and well-seeming. He considers himself a Christian, without doing any one really Christian work.

I said, "Religion is the life, the health of the soul." Yes-it is so. A soul without a sense of holiness, without a pious love of Christ, without

religious endeavour after its own perfecting, every where and at all times, even in public life ;-a soul without a constant thirst, as it were, after its own glorification, lies, as the Scripture saith, in the "chains of darkness," and in "the shadow of death." It lives not only its body lives—only its animal spirit lives. It cares for the body alone-it is anxious only for its temporal state;—but it is not holy; it is not Christian; it is not heavenly.

If we are to consider no more than that which we should do and be on earth-truly this life were not worth the living. Is it by this lukewarmness that we are to return the love of Christ, who, pure, great, and holy, offered himself for the salvation of mankind? Is it with this lukewarmness that we are to acknowledge the unspeakable love of God, the Father of all, who hath pleasure in the work of his own hands? Does God permit his love to be returned, his happiness to be attained, by such a want of feeling ;-a love, a happiness, without which the whole universe would have been one vast grave?

If there be a God in Heaven ;-if there be a judge of the human heart above the clouds ;-if an eternity remain beyond the moment of death-how can the heart of man grow cold in love to the Creator? How can it become indifferent and lukewarm in those divine duties, into the performance of which our Judge will one day inquire? How can it look

upon eternity as a mere dream, and on the transient dream of life below as a boundless eternity?

Arise, my soul, glow thou with sublime and holy thoughts of thy God and of thy calling. Quicken thy zeal and activity, and cease to degrade that which is most holy by lukewarmness. To thee also apply the words: "I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot."

This unnatural situation of the soul-this wavering between indifference and love, between life and death, is fatal to thee,-is fatal to thousands of others. Therefore adds the Divine Word, "I would that thou wert cold or hot."

For if you, who are now lukewarm, were cold in religion, you would be, perhaps, an open reviler of it: we should know you; we should be able to avoid you; we should warn our sons and daughters against your company; every upright man would pity you in his heart, as a senseless maniac. You would not injure any one else by your example, but would confine your mischief, though it be the greatest possible mischief, to yourself.

But the lukewarm Christian is often, by his example, more dangerous than the scoffer. His behaviour is not offensive: we approach him, therefore, without suspicion. He merits respect, perhaps, in public; no one fears to imitate him; and being active in business--but neither cold nor hot in

Christian practice, which he only observes for the sake of appearance-he finds many followers.

He understands, perhaps, the art of amassing riches, for which the common herd of men pay him the utmost deference; but he has no pleasure in any higher good. He has, perhaps, obtained great offices in public life, but he wants the magnanimity which religion teaches. He has, perhaps, a reputation for knowledge, and learning, and rare gifts; but the knowledge of the Most High, and that vivifying wisdom-an insight into the value and object of his existence-are little regarded by him. Thus does he possess every thing that is calculated to glitter before the world; but before God all is dark. The multitude, alas! too easily misled, look upon him as a model of perfection; become dazzled by his appearance; and, as lukewarm in religion as himself, strive zealously for that alone which may conduce to their worldly interests.

Thus we involuntarily corrupt the hearts of hundreds of others by the example of our lukewarmness! we are guilty of their sins. We confirm the ignorant, credulous, and fickle crowd in the opinion, that religion is only a secondary matter; that with outward customs, with simple alms, with only the form of daily prayer, with the observance of Church solemnities, it is quite possible to fulfil all their duties towards God; and that it is enough only to