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 that He hears us when we speak. Shall we not, then, express to Him our thanks for His goodness in bringing us into being, in bestowing upon us the great boon of life and consciousness, in endowing us with various faculties and capacities for enjoyment, and in making this beautiful world for our abode, carpeted with green, and lighted by His sun, and productive of all things needful for our support and delight? Shall we live on, like the brute beasts, enjoying all these things, and yet making no return of thanksgiving to the bountiful Hand that has formed and continues to sustain them? Do we not detest and despise ingratitude? When we bestow a favor on an individual, what do we think and feel if he makes not the least return and acknowledgment, but without a word turns his back and departs? Do we think such a one either noble-minded or just-minded? Should we not feel hurt by such ingratitude? Now, this—and a thousand times worse than this—every irreligious man is doing daily. An irreligious man can be neither a just-thinking nor a truly honorable man. He is guilty of one of the meanest of vices—ingratitude, habitual ingratitude to his greatest benefactor. He is daily receiving immense benefits, for which he makes not the slightest acknowledgment. Who keeps him in life and breath, during the dead of night, when he lies utterly powerless and helpless? Who keeps his lungs regularly heaving, and his heart beating, through the darkness, as he lies there in his unconscious slumbers? Who watches over him, protecting him from a thousand dangers? And yet he makes no return, no acknowledgment. When the morning light comes, and he wakens, he does not look up, thanking his unseen but