voluntary choice of evil so prolonged, so confirmed, so by habit welded into our souls, that rescue from it has become a moral impossibility. Divine grace is flowing forth to you; but you must work with it, by continuing in faith, and charity, and holiness, with sobriety. The grace of Christ is nullified by sin in two ways: first, it causes us to keep away from the Blessed Sacrament, wherein grace is received, to neglect prayer, whereby grace is besought; we feel that these things are a sham, and a mockery, while we are living in sin; thus we come to abandon or neglect them, and the spiritual life, cut off from its root in Christ, withers. And then, next, even if we still frequent the channels of grace, the tide that flows through them is turned back by our sinful hearts, or rather, is turned to poison; and the grace that would have nourished a pure heart unto life eternal, serves only to harden the impure. Seek innocency, then, and keep it, that you may interpose no barriers to the renewing inflow of the grace of Jesus Christ. Ask Him to come and dwell in you, and fill you with His own life and love. And ask to persevere in this desire. You must "continue in faith, and charity, and holiness, with sobriety." "He that endureth to the end, the same shall be saved."

SERMON III.

Love and Sanctity.

1 JOHN iv. 7.

"Love is of God."

THE grace of charity, or love, is set prominently before us in to-day's Epistle as an indispensable part of the Christian character. We need it, first, to fit us for the life of heaven. It is not, indeed, the only grace we shall require there. "Now abideth faith, hope, and charity, these three," says the Apostle. And by that he means, that while some gifts shall pass away with our present probation, and shall not be needed there, for the exercise of these graces there will be always room. Sermons and devotional books sometimes speak as if in heaven faith would be swallowed up at once in sight, and hope in full and perfect enjoyment. But they forget that heaven is an ever-growing revelation of the glory and goodness of God; it is progress in the knowledge of the most High; a continuous unveiling

of those treasures, of that goodness, which being infinite are therefore unsearchable. And if this be so, it follows that faith and hope are qualities for whose exercise there will be scope even in the life of glory. Where there is more of blessedness and bliss still to be revealed, there must of course be hope and anticipation of that blessedness. So long as there are treasures of God's beauty and goodness yet to be explored, faith and trust in those yet unascertained aspects of the Divine nature will still have to be exercised. So long, in short, as God is not throughly and perfectly known, there is still a call on us for faith; and thus faith and hope will abide in heaven, as well as love. Do not think that even there everything will be made clear at once, or all need for exercising such a lofty virtue as that of trust removed. Why is God so carefully training us by His present discipline in the practice of faith? Why does the cultivation of that spirit in us form so evidently the object of His providential dealings with us, unless it be that in some sense we shall have need of it hereafter? Not in the same sense, indeed, as now; we shall know much then, which now we have to take implicitly on trust; but even there faith will have its work to do. There will be tasks and

ministrations, it may be, in that kingdom of glory, in fulfilling which a spirit of deep faith will have to be exercised, and for which those who refuse to exercise faith in God are therefore rendering themselves for ever unfit. But while faith and hope will thus have their part to play even in the life of glory, a qualification more indispensable than either is love-the death, that is, of all selfishness-the spirit which lives for others, and to bless others, not for itself; for love is the very atmosphere and life of heaven. What room for the selfish and unloving man can there be around the throne of Him who, in the person of the incarnate Son, so loved man that for their salvation He let them slay Him? What but a misery could the presence of Him who is infinite Love be to the cold unloving heart? What but isolation, and a sense of discordance, could it experience in that uncongenial atmosphere? And, therefore, while faith, and hope, and charity, abide as qualities eternally necessary, the most essential, and so the greatest of these, is charity.

But more it is love that must not only fit us for heaven; only by love also can we do great things with men on earth. This is brought out strongly in the incarnate life of our Blessed Lord. What was it that drew men from their homes,

their families, their gains, to give up all for His sake, and follow Him as apostles or disciples, but the power of the love which flowed out on them from His sacred heart, and drew them on as by an irresistible attraction? There was one whom Christ called in vain to leave all for His sake; but even that rich young ruler, though he would not make the sacrifice to which he was invited, "went away sorrowful," we read, wretched, and ill at ease. And why? Because we are told that "Jesus, beholding him, loved him;" and that love that beamed on him from the Saviour's look, though it could not tear him from his wealth, made him miserable to think what he was renouncing in order to retain that wealth-almost drew him in spite of himself. And so ever since. What has made martyrs for Christ? What has induced His followers in all ages to lay down comfort, and prospects, and means, and home, and health, as priests, or as missionaries, or sisters of mercy, or ministers to His poor, in order to spend and be spent for Him? Did they do all this for the sake of an idea, or at the mere cold call of duty? Rather, was it not their deep sense of the close personal love of Jesus for them, the love with which He loved them on the Cross, the love with which He loves them still in His