hiss came up from the wide world, he would smile at it, for he would say,

"He that hath made his refuge God,

Shall find a most secure abode."

I am one of his elect. I am chosen of God and precious; and though the world cast me out, I fear not. Ah! you timeserving professors, some of you can bend like the willows. There are few oaken Christians, now-a-days, that can stand the storm; and I will tell you the reason. It is because you do not believe yourselves to be elect. The man who knows he is elect will be too proud to sin; he will not humble himself to commit the acts of common people. The believer in this truth will say, "I compromise my principles? I change my doctrines? I lay aside my views? I hide what I believe to be true? No! since I know I am one of God's elect, in the very teeth of all men I shall speak God's truth, whatever men may say." Nothing makes a man so truly bold as to feel that he is God's elect. He shall not quiver, he shall not shake, who knows that God has chosen him.

Moreover, election will make us holy. Nothing under the gracious influence of the Holy Spirit can make a Christian more holy, than the thought that he is chosen. "Shall I sin," he says, "after God hath chosen me? Shall I transgress after such love? Shall I go astray after so much loving-kindness and tender mercy? Nay, my God; since thou hast chosen me, I will love thee; I will live to thee

"Since thou, my everlasting God,

My Father, art to come,'

I will give myself to thee, to be thine forever, by election, and by redemption, casting myself on thee, and solemnly consecrating myself to thy service."

And now, lastly, to the ungodly. What says election to you? First, you ungodly ones, I will excuse you for a moment. There are many of you who do not like election, and I can not blame yon for it, for I have heard those preach election, who have sat down, and said, "I have not one word o say to the sinner."

Now, I say you ought to dislike such

preaching as that, and I do not blame you for it. But, I say, take courage, take hope, O thou sinner, that there is election! So far from dispiriting and discouraging thee, it is a very hopeful and joyous thing that there is an election. What if I told thee perhaps none can be saved, none are ordained to eternal life, wouldst thou not tremble, and fold thy hands in hopelessness, and say, "Then how can I be saved, since none are elect?" But, I say, there is a multitude elect, beyond all counting a host that no mortal can number. Therefore, take heart, thou poor sinner! Cast away thy despondencymayst not thou be elect as well as any other? for there is a host innumerable chosen. There is joy and comfort for thee! Then, not only take heart, but go and try the Master. Remember, if you were not elect, you would lose nothing by it. What did the four Syrians say? "Let us fall unto the host of the Syrians, for if we stay here, we must die, and if we go to them we can but die." O sinner! come to the throne of electing mercy. Thou mayest die where thou art. Go to God; and, even supposing he should spurn thee, suppose his uplifted hand should drive thee away-a thing impossibleyet thou wilt not lose any thing; thou wilt not be more damned for that. Besides, supposing thou be damned, thou wouldst have the satisfaction at least of being able to lift up thine eyes in hell, and say, "God, I asked mercy of thee, and thou wouldst not grant it; I sought it, but thou didst refuse it." That thou never shalt say, O sinner! If thou goest to him, an askest him, thou shalt receive; for he never has spurned one yet! Is not that hope for you? What though there is an allotted number, yet it is true that all who seek belong to that number. Go thou and seek; and if thou shouldst be the first one to go to hell, tell the devils that thou didst peris thus-tell the demons that thou art a castaway, after having come as a guilty sinner to Jesus. I tell thee it would disgrace the Eternal-with reverence to his name— and he would not allow such a thing. He is jealous of his honor, an I he would not allow a sinner to say that. But, al , poor soul! not only think thus, that thou canst not lose any thing by coming; there is yet one more thoughtDost thu love the thought of election this morning? Art

thou willing to admit its justice? Dost thou say, "I feel that I am lost; I deserve it; and that if my brother is saved I can not murmur. If God destroy me, I deserve it; but if he saves the person sitting beside me, he has a right to do what he will with his own, and I have lost nothing by it." Can you say that honestly from your heart? If so, then the doctrine of election has had its right effect on your spirit, and you are not far from the kingdom of heaven. You are brought where you ought to be, where the Spirit wants you to be; and being so this morning, depart in peace; God has forgiven your sins. You would not feel that, if you were not pardoned; you would not feel that, if the Spirit of God were not working in you. Rejoice, then, in this. Let your hope rest on the cross of Christ. Think not on election, but on Christ Jesus. Rest on Jesus-Jesus first, midst, and without end.

SERMON VI.

THE HOUSE OF MOURNING, AND THE HOUSE OF FEASTING.

"It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to the house of feasting." -ECCLESIASTES vii. 2.

THE maxim that happiness lies between two extremes is, I believe, the dictate of prudence, and has the sanction of God's word. The ancients always spoke of this as being the most happy state of life. Somewhere between the two extremes of ecstatic joy and melancholy lies the thing we call "happiness." Ancient poets used to sing of the via media, or the middle way. We know that Agur, an inspired writer, prayed to God that he would give him "neither poverty nor riches,” that he might walk in the middle way of life, and as the medium with regard to wealth is to be preferred, so I believe the middle way is to be chosen with regard to happiness. In the green plains betwixt two high hills is the place where happiness generally resides. The man who is not often lifted up with joy, nor often depressed in spirit through grief, who walks through the world in a calm and quiet atmosphere, bearing about him a holy complacency, a calm serenity, and an almost uniformity -that man is a happy man. He who journeys along without flying up as an eagle, or without diving down into the depths of the sea-keeps along the even tenor of his way—that man, if he continue there to his death, is entitled to the name of a happy man. But, my friends, I think it falls to the lot of very few of us always to keep there. I know it does not fall to my portion always to walk between the two extremes. I can not always sing in the vale, like Bunyan's shepherd boy; I wish I could live there, but I can not do so.

There is a high mountain on that side of the valley, and another there; and I have to climb the steep side of both those mountains. On the brow of the hill on that side there stands a fantastic structure, very much like those fairy palaces which we fabricate in our dreams with the architect of fancy; and this is called the "house of feasting." On the other side of this valley of mediocrity stands a gloomy castle overhung with damp weeds and moss; it looks like one of those desolate places where superstition has fabled that old giants used to live it is called the "house of mourning." We have most of us alternately to go to each of these houses. Sometimes we are rejoicing in "the house of feasting," at other times we are weeping in "the castle of mourning," hanging down our heads like bulrushes, and crying, Alas, alas!

Standing thus, in the middle of the plain, as I profess to do this morning, I am about to speak to you of both those places -of that fantastic structure there, and of the gloomy castle here; and though bright-eyed cheerfulness would prompt me to say, it was "better to go to the house of feasting, than to the house of mourning;" with the word of inspiration before me, I trust to be able to show that the divine preacher spoke truth when he said—" It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting."

In order that I may set this truth in as clear a light as possible, I shall invite you first to go with me to "the house of feasting;" then, to "the house of mourning," and after that we will examine two or three verses which succeed the text, and look at the wise man's reasons for preferring "the house of mourning" to "the house of feasting."

Away, away, away we go first of all to "the house of feasting," and I am sure I shall have abundance of company if I invite you there You never need go alone to a feast; simply biow the trumpet of announcement, simply tell the people we are going to "the house of feasting," and they are all ready to go there. There is a joyous spark in every man's breast, which at once ignites his soul, and he says, Let us go; if you are about to go to a feast, I will feast with you; if there is joy in any cup, let me drink it. I am going to "the house of feastWe shall go ing," and I shall take you to it in three steps.