It is a well-known law of the human constitution, that while practical habits grow stronger by repeated acts, passive impressions, by the same process, are weakened. Thus the sight of suffering is at first exceedingly painful, and this sympathetic pain prompts us to exert ourselves in order to relieve the sufferer. Now we find, in proportion as the habits of acting in obedience to our impressions become fixed, the impressions themselves become fainter and fainter. Hence physicians and nurses will do a great deal more for the sick than surrounding friends, although they may not feel for them half so much. Now, to allow these impressions to be repeated, and thus gradually weakened, without acquiring the practical habits which they were meant to produce, is fatal to the character. It is, as another has well expressed it, “to burn up the kindling without starting the fire.” This explains the injurious effects of theatre-going and novel-reading, where passive impressions are repeatedly awakened by imaginary scenes of distress, but no opportunity is afforded to act as these impressions would dictate. In this we have a satisfactory explanation of the phenomenon so puzzling to philanthropists, viz., that delicate and refined men and women will fare sumptuously every day, eating whatever is good, and recline nightly upon couches of down, while entirely undisturbed by the knowledge of the fact that many pale forms, weary and hungry, are fainting almost at their very doors. They have lost the susceptibility of receiving impressions from the sight of suffering, without having acquired the habit of practical benevolence. The same law prevails with reference to religious impressions. The oftener these are repeated, the oftener the sinner feels moved to act in view either of the love or justice of God, and allows these impressions to pass away without acting in accordance with them, the less and less is the probability that he will ever do so. On each repetition the impression becomes fainter, and the indisposition to act stronger. The glorious gospel of Jesus Christ thus becomes to thousands, in whose hearing it is proclaimed, a savor of death unto death. It is possible to wear out these impressions, so that there shall be nothing left for God's Spirit to act upon, and when this is once effected, of course the case of the impenitent soul becomes hopeless. Sinner, rouse from this sleep. You have often felt these impressions, and as often refused to act in obedience to them. You know from experience that they are daily growing weaker—take heed lest they disappear and leave you confirmed in your sins.—Pres. Journal.