wise, we should fail to appreciate it. We do not value highly what costs us nothing, and if we made no exertions after religion, we should but lightly esteem it. The Apostle urges therefore to diligence, and not simply to diligence, but to "all diligence." Nothing is to be left undone; every effort is to be made. If men were only as diligent, and made the same amount of exertion in the cause of religion, as for riches and worldly honors, they would prosper greatly and rejoice in the Lord always.

The object of diligence is to "add to." The christian should never be content to occupy the same position in religion for any length of time. The spirit of Christianity calls perpetually, saying "come up higher." "There is very much ground yet to be occupied :" and we must "go up at once and possess the land." Too many live in the past, and when they desire to excite pleasant religious feelings they go back to the day of their conversion, the time of first love, and live over again those days. It is all the joy they have; they remember how they once felt, and this gives them pleasure. Alas! for them. They have no present experience. Paul said, " Forgetting the things which are behind, and reaching forth to those which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of my high calling, which is of God in Christ Jesus." It is thus a continual adding to. We add victory to victory, grace to grace, joy to joy, work to work, improvement to improvement; and so pass round after round up the ladder from earth to Heaven. The true christian ever prays, "Nearer, my God, to thee!" The starting point is faith-"add to faith.” This is the ground work of the religious life, and he who has not faith builds upon sand, and while his hopes may stand in prosperity, when all goes well, in adversity, in death, in judgment, his foundation will be swept away, and he doomed to a miserable and eternal disappointment. He who starts for the Celestial City without faith in Christ, enters the wrong gate, and travels in the wrong direction. Poor man! he has lost his way and is in darkness, but he knows it not. First of all, we must come to Christ as poor, miserable, guilty sinners, utterly unable to save ourselves, and cast ourselves at his feet, crying "Save, Lord, or we perish." Faith looks back upon a life of sin and wickedness, within at a heart polluted and evil, above at an angry God, beneath at a flaming hell, before us to an eternity of woe, and then grasps the cross of Christ as the only hope, crying

"Jesus, I my cross have taken,

All to leave and follow thee;

Naked, poor, despised, forsaken,

Thou, from hence, my all shall be."

The next step is virtue. Here is the progress of religious experience; first faith, then virtue. I dislike ever to find fault with our translation of the Scriptures. It stands deservedly high as a faithful and true rendering of the original into pure and unexceptionable English. It is certainly the best translation into English ever yet made, and perhaps the best that will be made for many generations to come. But while this may safely be said of it as a whole, truth requires that we say, that in a few instances-and they are very few indeed the translation is at fault. These are not sufficient to mar the beauty, or change materially the sense, of the Scriptures. They do not affect a single doctrine; and the complaint can only be, that they fail to bring out the sense of the original fully. Now, in the case before us, we should hardly expect the apostle to say, "Add to faith virtue," which means religion or moral goodness; and then go on to require the addition to religion of the several virtues which make up religion. This is absurd. The original makes no such blunder, nor did the translators so intend; for when the translation was made, virtue was a term expressive of courage, fortitude, moral principle. Like many other words, it has changed its meaning in the course of years. The Greek word here translated virtue, means courage, fortitude, goodness, principle. The last is the best meaning for this place, because it embraces all the rest, and answers the design of the apostle. He is giving the progressive development of Christian character, and therefore intends to say, "Add to faith principle," which is a settled law or rule of action; an inward, fixed purpose of life; a permanent spring of conduct.

I wish to call your attention, therefore, to the subject of Religious Principle.

I. There is a great demand for the serious consideration, the calm investigation, of the true nature of Christianity in this regard. There are so many Reubens "unstable as water;" so many Ephraims whose "goodness is like the morning cloud and the early dew that passeth away;" so many, like Peter, who "deny their Master;" so many, like Hymencus, who "make shipwreck of faith;" so many, like Demas, who "love this present world;" so many revival Christians,

who are zealous and active in times of religious excitement, but who are lukewarm and indifferent at other times; so many summer and fair-weather Christians, who are seen at the house of God when the weather is pleasant and warm, but when it requires self-denial to attend, we see no more of them; so many who are very regular and attentive when they have a popular pastor whose eloquence attracts and charms them, but at other times either go not at all or very seldom ; so many who serve God when adversity drives them to the cross for consolation and hope, but when prosperity returns they forget God, and, like Jeshurun, "wax fat and kick."

The question arises, Does Christianity sanction this state of things? Does it spring legitimately from the nature of religion? Can it be chargeable to the influence of religion? If so, it ought to be known, for then these persons are not to be condemned; but if, on the other hand, Christianity provides for and contemplates a different development of character, these persons must be condemned, and their conduct denounced as utterly contrary to true religion.

We invite you, then, to enter upon the investigation; and we begin with a question, the answer to which setles the matter decisively and at once Is religion merely an excitement of the emotional nature by the presentation of religious truth, or is it more? Mark you, the question is not whether religion excites emotional feeling. This we know to be true. God has not ignored the emotions in providing a religion for man. Religion is not simply for the intellect, nor for the will and conscience, to the exclusion of the sensibilities. It is for the whole man-intellect, emotions, will, conscience. A religion that does not affect the heart is worthless, and altogether unsuited to man's nature and condition. Nor am I to be understood as questioning the propriety of religious excitement. Doubtless David was excited when the ark of God was brought back; Solomon when the temple was dedicated: Moses when he saw the promised land from the top of Pisgah; Paul when he was caught up to the third heaven and heard unspeakable words; and multitudes of the people of God, in ancient and modern times, have felt the most powerful excitement at times. There are times when not to experience an excitement of feeling would be unnatural, and almost impossible. The question is, whether religion consists in excitement of our emotions, or in something more. The essential element of religion cannot be emotional feeling, because that wants three of its most prominent characteris

tics. Emotional feeling wants the uniformity of true religion. It is variable and ever changing. Sometimes men feel deeply, and are powerfully excited, but at others they are calm, and apparently destitute of feeling. It is a source of frequent trouble to some persons that at times they feel, and at others they seem to have little feeling on the subject of religion. Again; true religion is by all conceded to be adapted to all men; but if emotional feeling is the essential element of religion, it sadly fails in adaptedness to all. Men are differently constituted with regard to the predominance of the mental faculties. There are those who have more feeling than others—of excitable temperament, and a greater prominence of the emotional nature. Others, from constitution and habits of life, are cold, intellectual men, never much excited, but always calm and reflective. Others again are men of great nerve and iron will, formed for action, neither excitable nor reflective, but cool and deliberate, and strong in purpose. If religion is a mere excitement of the emotions, it is clearly adapted to but one of these classes. It is totally unsuited to the man of intellect or the man of will, neither of whom can be excited to display much feeling upon any subject whatever. It is contrary to their constitution and habits of mind that they should do so. These need a different religion from that of mere excitement.

Once more we know that the christian religion is a permanently abiding reality-something that is constant, always with us. But emotional excitement, in the nature of the case, is necessarily inconstant and variable. Excitement cannot possibly remain long; it soon wears itself out, and by the laws of the mind must produce a reaction, when there is a calm. Are we to believe that we have no religion, when we are no longer excited? This is inevitable if religion is no more than excitement of the emotions. We conclude, then, that religion is something more than feeling. It is a principle. Some think that the sentence "Religion is a principle" is a scriptural phrase, but in this they are mistaken. It does not occur in scripture; but is a christian axiom of universally admitted truth. I know of no christian divine who teaches otherwise. St. Paul frequently teaches this when he speaks of the Spirit as dwelling in us, leading and influencing us, and remaining always in our hearts as a controlling power. same thing, where he says we are partakers of the divine nature. This divine nature becomes a living, active influence, a principle of life, a powerful inward motive. St. John says

St. Peter teaches the

that when a man is converted "he cannot sin, because his seed remaineth in him." A new principle of life is imparted to the convert, which changes his inclination and disposition, so that he no longer loves sin, no longer commits it willingly and deliberately. David spoke of himself as in a very unsatisfactory religious state, from which he sought relief. He says: "I waited patiently for the Lord, and he inclined unto me and heard my cry; he brought me up, also, out of a horrible pit, and out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock and established my goings." Then he exclaims: "O God, my heart is fixed, my heart is fixed." In this we recognise religious principle-something more than mere feeling. This is what Paul exhorted the Corinthians to secure, when he urged them to be "steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord." St. John speaks of this principle when he says: "I have written unto you, young men, because ye are strong, and the word of God abideth in you." The word of God received into the heart and mind as an abiding principle becomes a source of spiritual strength. We see the presence and influence of religious principles in the case of Moses when he rejected the crown of Egypt. There was everything to excite his feelings, and lead him to a different course of conduct. Gratitude to the daughter of Pharaoh for his preservation, education, and her care and kindness, the desire of wealth aroused by the treasures of Egypt, the ambition for distinction and renown, the desire of ease and pleasure all these were operating against his choice. Why then did "he choose rather to suffer affliction with the people of God than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season ?" This was not a matter of feeling; there was more than feeling involved; it was because his religion was a principle of influence and power that he so acted. Abraham offers a striking illustration of religious principle. Isaac is his son, the son of promise, long expected and waited for, the son of his old age, the only son by his beloved wife Sarah, the son who is to be his heir, and in whom his seed is to be called-yet God commands to take him and offer him up a burnt offering. Can he do it? Are not all his feelings against it? Shall he commit murder? Murder his son so endeared to him? offer him up a burnt offering? How is it possible for him to do it? Here then is feeling against duty, against principle. If Abraham's religion had been one of mere feeling, it would have certainly failed here. Job was a man of great wealth, and surrounded by a large family of children, to whom he was most