unto thee quickly," and withdraw the light that I have lifted up upon the mystical altar in the midst of thee; the illumination of the Word and of the SPIRIT, together with the shrine and outward tabernacle of symbols and Sacraments in which My Mystical Body stands visible among you; even "thy candlestick out of his place, except thou repent.'

There are certain inferences which bear pointedly upon our own state and probation to be drawn from this warning, and to these we shall do well to turn.

1. For example, one great practical truth issuing from what has been said is this: that there may be much fair and really commendable religion, where all is not right at heart.

Whole branches of the Church, with all their altars standing, and with all their visible appointments of Divine Worship abundantly and publicly maintained, may yet be far gone before GOD. And a Christian, with all his usages of religion still continued, may yet have left his first love. For these outward and passive customs are the last to give way; the inward disease must be far advanced towards its full and fatal ripeness before the outward habits, which cost so little and imply so much, are visibly affected. Cankered trees still put forth their leaves, long after their source of fruitfulness is dry. A sense of duty outlives all fervour of heart. What was once a delight is still felt to be an obligation. Men are religious in the conscience long after they have ceased to be fervent at heart. They would be afraid to forsake the routine of religious acts through which alone they can still hope to recover themselves. Besides, the performance of them is soothing, and may be set, they feel, against the altered condition of their inward affections. If

they have left their first love, they have not left CHRIST'S service. If they have lost fervour, they have held to their former habits. No one but HE can see how it is with their secret heart: and if HE sees their slackened affections, HE sees also their wishes, desires, intentions, and resolutions.

There can be no doubt that such is the state of multitudes whom the Church refrains to censure, and the world believes devout. They keep up an exact observance of public religion, they take part in works of faith and almsgiving, their friends are chosen from among persons of tried devotion, they practise the private duties which conscience and every manual of prayer enjoins, and they are not without a sensible pleasure in the events and acts of a religious life; sometimes they rise above themselves, and in seasons of trial, or excitement, or at the Holy Communion, regain faint and fleeting perceptions of a higher state of realities they once approached more nearly, and tokens of a Presence to which they have since grown strange.

2. Another truth we may learn is, that when there is anything wrong at heart, all beside, how good soever it may appear and be, is marred.

The state of the heart is the very soul of a religious life; and it is on this that the direct eye of God is fixed. Where there is any permitted declension of the heart, there two evils are always present. It cancels and annuls the whole worship and service of outward religion. It opens the beginnings of incalculable departures from GOD. And that for this reason. All acts of a religious life are thenceforth done with a slack and unmeaning intention. But all the force of obedience is in the motive. It is this that gives em

phasis and meaning to fasts, prayers, labours, alms, for the Name of CHRIST. To feed natural hunger from mere natural benevolence, is not ministering to CHRIST, but obeying a mere animal impulse, good indeed, but stunted, and not necessarily Christian. The same is more manifestly true of the higher acts of religion; for instance, the Holy Communion: when the Holy Sacrament is received with an estranged, or averted heart, what is it? I will not say profanation, for I am not speaking of people who are unworthy by positive transgression; but, so to speak, negatively by the loss of their first love. What does it become but a dutiful formality, a heartless reverence? The habits of a religious life are no longer a reasonable service; that is, an oblation of our spiritual being with its affections and powers, consciously, and with an intention equivalent to obedience. It is the utterance of a machine, inarticulate and senseless. From the time our souls fall off from the centre of all spiritual life, their acts become hollow and inexpressive. The most splendid charities, the most punctilious devotions, the longest fasts, the loudest assertion of principles, the most unbending defences of the Church against the world, the consecration of ourselves to a religious rule and life, are as nothing when they issue from a heart that has left its first love.

And further, as the motives of the heart grow slack, they become divided. It is intensity that unites the will; when it moves slowly and with reluctance it is soon distracted by a multitude of forces. Self-sparing, neighbouring temptations, worldly regards, personal schemes, private attachments, the influence of example, indulgence of particular affections of the mind, soon come in to divide a heart which has ceased to be united in the love of

CHRIST.

"Where the carcase is, there will the eagles be gathered together." And these importunate cravings draw men into the dangerous folly of striving at a thing impossible to be done. They strive to serve two masters; and serving neither, they offend both. There is no more miserable man, except an apostate Christian, than he who has left his first love, and yet retains so much conscience that he can neither be easy in a fettered service of the world, nor in a cold obedience to CHRIST. His common sense tells him, that the world holds him cheap for his want of resolution, and his conscience says, "I have somewhat against thee." "I will remove thy candlestick out of his place, except thou repent."

And this slack and divided state of heart, as it cancels the force of all religion, so it is the beginning of unknown declension. Even though it begin in no more than a colder affection or a relaxed resolution, yet it may end in quenching the Spirit of GOD. Slight diseases bring on great decays: the least bias in a never-resting wheel tends to the extremest deviations : wandering thoughts tend to habitual irreverence : fearless acts of trivial disobedience to settled and presumptuous transgression: a selfish heart may end in crucifying CHRIST afresh unto itself; and a soul without love may sink into the darkness of atheism.

There are certain classes of people to whom these truths are especially needful.

1. As first, to those that have been carefully brought up from childhood in the knowledge and duties of religion.

It often happens that those who in childhood have been deeply affected by religion, become in after years cold and relaxed. Early in life the awfulness of GOD'S

Presence subdued their natural levity of mind: and the love of CHRIST in His Cross and Passion powerfully wrought upon their purer, and more sensitive nature. The example of holy and faithful parents fostered their better resolutions, and kept their faults in check. The world had not as yet encompassed them, and the more naked forms of evil had not as yet approached them; their conscience was still fresh, and their prayers full of sincerity and awe. A few short years, and they were thrust out into the mid-stream of life, and entangled in the world. Life with its manifold employments, hemmed them in ; fair seeming pleasures, and customs with soft names stole upon them: thoughts unknown before thronged around them; new desires haunted them; temptations wound about them; and yet they were still true to their old faith, and to their first love. Little by little a new tone of feeling comes over them, and combines uneasily with old practices; and as the new power strengthens, they must needs give way first in one habit, then another, till the barriers of the whole character are broken through. Then come single faults often repeated, and then a heavy fall, and an ineffectual repentance; then a second, and a third, with less sensible remorse, and a speedier return of peace. And the conscience begins to grow heavy, and in the end to slumber. Then comes on the first stage of greatest peril when the will has consented to great lengths of evil, and great degrees of hardness are attained under the cover of successful concealment. All the outward acts and usages of religion go on as before: no man knows the secret. But HE sees

all, Whose "eyes are as a flame of fire."

2. Another class of persons to whom these warnings are most pointed are those who, after a sinful or care