even here I would suggest a piece of important advice, that we be always cautious how we tempt ourselves, exposed as we are to sufficient temptations not of our own seeking. But I am not speaking of the Christian who now and then partakes of the harmless relaxation of society, I speak of those, to whom amusement and gaiety are no relaxations, but rather the sole business and labour of their lives, of those who are devotees to dissipation, to whom the "house of feasting," is almost their permanent abode, and who are there in heart and by anticipation, when personally absent; and I do most solemnly declare, that I believe it impossible for sincere religion to be the inmate of such a breast. I know an instance of one, who ingenuously confessed that, on her return from a gay assembly, she never could pray; nor do I much wonder at the unhappy fact. Indeed I should rather wonder if the engagements and disturbances of the night, opposite as they are to every thing serious, and protracted often to the very dawn of morning, did not frequently leave the mind so disturbed by vain and idle thoughts, as to render it incapable of religious composure, incapable of turning in a moment from these vanities to the humility of repentance, and to the stedfastness of pious adoration. The mind indeed is versatile, but can it pass so speedily

from one occupation to the other, with any interest or spirit? Oh no; sincere prayer is often found to be difficult under the most favourable circumstances; it never can be well performed when the whole current of thought has been running for hours together quite counter to all the subjects with which it is necessarily connected. The house of feasting and gaiety then is not the school for religion; excess is sinful, and there is great cause to fear that the bounds of moderation are transgressed easily and

unawares.

But I must break off from this topic, fertile as it is, or I shall not have time to exhibit to you another scene, the very contrast of that which I have just represented. Indeed, even now I must content myself with but a slight sketch, perfect enough, however, to bring before you a scene, which as Christians you will contemplate with interest far superior to that with which you regard what I have hitherto exposed to your view-I mean "the house of mourning." Many such houses it has been my lot (may I not say, in one sense, my happiness?) to visit within a very short space of time. I have seen the widows lamenting the untimely fate of their husbands; parents, like Rachael, "weeping for their children, because they were not; " children bemoaning the loss of their

parents; brothers afflicted at a beloved sister's death. I have seen this, and in each case I have thought within myself, what a wretched world would this be, if there were no truth in religion. What miserable, hopeless, comfortless creatures should we be! How soon our dearest and purest joys may be snatched away! How painfully may our tenderest affections be wounded at any moment by an unexpected casualty! How little able are all the joys of life to heal the sores which these poor mourners feel, and how soon may the happiest on earth be bowed down under the pressure of an equal load of suffering!

What then is the value of life, for its own sake, when the heart may be overwhelmed and crushed in an instant, by a mountain of sorrow, which no human foresight can avert, no earthly power remove, no worldly help enable us to sustain? But was there no comfort then for those who mourned? Oh yes! in the very depth of grief there was comfort, there was hope, there was relief; in the very darkest gloom there was a light which shed a cheering ray. Need I tell you that the gospel was the source of that light? that the mercy of God furnished an argument of resignation? that the doctrine of a life of happiness hereafter, supplied ground of real comfort? that the only consolation which could be offered

was administered by religion? Where else was it to be sought? All the riches in the world would have been thought a cheap exchange for the treasure that was lost; all the pleasures in the world would have been tasteless, in the misery that oppressed the mourners' souls. The prospect of a resurrection could alone support their heavy-laden hearts.

Is not this then the scene in which to learn wisdom and instruction? Is it not to the "house of mourning," that we should repair, to be taught the vanity of life, and the value, the supreme importance of religion? Is not one hour spent among a weeping and afflicted family more profitably bestowed, than whole years devoted to heedless pleasure and thoughtless dissipation? Would that they, who fritted away their little lives in pursuit of the idle phantom of vanity, could be persuaded to pass an occasional hour in such company as this! How many hard hearts would it soften! How many careless minds would it render serious! How many that are now rejoicing in their youth, and their wealth, and their empty pleasures, would it convert from those follies to that religion, which must be their refuge at last, but in which they may strive to take shelter, when it will no longer be afforded to them! How many a soul might be saved in the house of

mourning, which is now in danger of perishing for ever through the treacherous enticements of the house of feasting.

My brethren, I shall conclude with a wish, which may seem unkind, but which I offer with a sincere desire for your truest happiness. It is this;-If earthly delights so engross you, that the ordinary warnings and calls to reflection pass unheeded by; if you are not capable of being roused by the gentle suggestions of the Spirit of God, by the secret reproaches of your consciences, by the earnest exhortation of the minister of religion,-by the frequent examples of the insecurity of life and happiness which you witness, may it please God in his mercy to touch your hearts, before it be too late, in their tenderest affections! May he open your eyes by some awakening personal affliction, to see that the world and worldly happiness are but idle dreams; and that the well-founded hope of heaven, purchased by your Redeemer, is the only substantial good which in this life you can possess! And, if it should please him to deal so mercifully with you, may the "God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that (though afflicted) you may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost!" And may those light afflictions, which any of you may