whether there are not higher ends for which you should live? The providence which takes away your health, and lays you for weeks on a bed of languishing, appears to be designed to lead you to reflect on the feebleness of your frame; on the uncertain tenure of the hold on life; on the higher scenes which await man in the future world; and to lead you to ask on that bed of languishing, "What must I do to be saved?" The providence which takes away a lovely child, how much fitted is it to lead the mind to sober thought! Yesterday it was blithe and playful, and your home was happy; to-day it lies pale and cold in death, and you cannot but feel that God has designed that you should pause in your career, and reflect on death and the coming world.

And, Sixthly, there are those, in great numbers, who are led to reflection and to inquiry by the warnings of his word. The preaching of the gospel is God's great ordinance for awakening the attention of men to the subject of religion, and arousing them to thought and solicitude in regard to their immortal welfare. To secure this is one of the great ends contemplated by the institution of the ministry of reconciliation; and it is every way adapted to the end in view. Of those who become Christians, by far the largest portion are awakened to a sense of their sin and danger under the preaching of the gospel; and more frequently the inquiry is started, "What must I do to be saved," in this manner than in all other methods combined.

I might go on to speak of many other methods by which the attention of the sinner is arrested, and by which he is brought to serious reflection :-his own solemn thoughts when alone; the conversation of a stranger; the counsel of a friend; the Bible that he casually opens; the tract that is laid in his way; the book that he has been induced by a friend to read; the deep feeling that sometimes pervades a community in a revival of religion; or some secret, silent influence of the Eternal Spirit on his mind that he is never able to trace to any secondary cause. One thing cannot but strike you in all this: it is the variety of methods the numberless ways-in which God makes his appeal to men; the countless modes of access which he has to the soul, prompting to the great inquiry, "What must I do to be saved ?” And yet, in all cases, with all the endless variety of means employed, and all the variety of emotions and feelings produced, arising from age, and temperament, and diversity of education, and the manner in which the appeal is brought to the mindthe general character of the feeling is the same: it is awakened interest in religion; it is a growing conviction of its importance;

it is calm reflection; it is a sense of danger and insecurity in the present state; it is a feeling that something ought to be done in order to be saved.

At this stage, however, everything seems to be full of perplexity. Doubts arise on the whole subject of religion. What is to be believed as true and what is to be done, are alike points on which the mind is often in the utmost perplexity. Amidst the thousand opinions entertained in the church, which is to be believed? Who shall tell us what is true? Who shall guide us into the path of peace? And another thing is equally perplexing-what is to be done. Something, it is clear, should be done; but what shall it be? In this state of feeling, the jailer came to Paul and Silas to know what should be done; in a similar state of feeling many would give worlds if some one would tell them with certainty what they should do.

I desire now, in conclusion, to suggest a few thoughts, by way of counsel, applicable to this state of mind.

(1.) The first is, Cherish the disposition to reflection. Be willing to think on your ways; to ponder calmly and seriously so important a subject as religion. Be willing to think it all over--the past, the present, the future; your character, your hopes, your dangers, your duties, your privileges, and your destiny. Be willing to think on the question whether religion is true; what it is; whether its hopes may be yours. He is not far from the kingdom of God who is willing to think on the subject of religion, and in all honesty to follow out the result of his own reflections. Need I urge any more reasons for this counsel? It is a subject worthy of thought. Assuredly, if there is anything that can properly claim the attention of the human mind it is this. What are all things else in respect to us, compared with the salvation of our own souls? And who is injured by calm and careful thought? Who is made the poorer, or the less worthy to be respected, by sober reflection ? What merchant is more likely to fail by reflecting carefully on his business; what youth endangers his reputation by considerate reflection on his character and plans; what student is retarded in the attainment of knowledge by attentive thoughtfulness on his studies ; what physician is injured by a close application of his mind to the symptoms of disease and the right methods of healing; what lawyer by close attention to the law and the evidence in the case entrusted to him? But again, what interests are there which are not jeoparded by recklessness and want of thought? How often is fortune squandered; is health ruined; is the opportunity of preparing for honour and usefulness lost; is life

itself the forfeit of a want of reflection! How many bankrupts are there who might have been saved by timely thought; how many drunkards who might have been happy and useful by proper reflection; how many are there now useless to the world, who would have been ornaments to society if in early years they had reflected calmly on their privileges, and thoughtfully pursued the paths of learning or business! I counsel you, therefore, to cherish every serious thought that passes through your minds on the subject of religion, and to be willing to follow where sober thought would lead you.

(2.) I counsel you to avoid the scenes which would be likely to dissipate your serious reflections. You may be less ready to follow me in this than in the former, and yet this is essential if you would secure the salvation of the soul. But do not misunderstand me. I do not counsel you to immure yourself in a cloister. I advise not a useless and a gloomy asceticism. I ask you not to be morose, sour, dissocial, melancholy. All these I regard as infinitely far from religion, alike in its beginnings in the soul, and in its highest progress towards perfection.

But there are scenes which are unfavourable to serious reflection, and which tend to dissipate serious thought, and which one must consent to leave for ever if he would serve God and follow the Saviour. The theatre, the ball-room, the circles of gaiety, the places of revelry-how can they be made to be favourable to serious thought; how are they consistent with an earnest desire to be saved? Between those scenes and the calm and serene spirit of the gospel-between the spirit which reigns there, and that which reigned in the bosom of the Saviour, there is such a contrast that the one cannot live where the other does; and if you make up your mind to have the one, you must make up your mind not to have the other.

I am sensible that, even to a mind under the degree of thoughtfulness which I have now been endeavouring to describe, it is one of the most difficult things that I can exhort you to do, to follow the counsel which I am now giving. So fascinating is that gay and brilliant world; so many of your friends find pleasure there; so entirely may you seem to be shut out from all society if you withdraw from that; so many ties bind you to it by a network so interlaced and so strong; and so much would you dread to have it whispered around to "lover and friend" that you are becoming serious, that I do not wonder at the diffi culty of breaking away. Yet, there is no option. If you would be a Christian, if you would find the way of salvation, you must make up your mind, if need be, to bear the frowns, the sneers,

the ridicule of the world-for the path to heaven and to glory lies not through scenes of vanity and of sin.

(3.) I counsel you to pray. For what is more appropriate than prayer in the state of mind which I have described? Where should one go who is asking what he shall do to be saved, if not to God? You are just beginning to grapple with great questions that are too much for the unaided human mind. You are beginning to think about themes on which the profoundest human intellects have been employed, and which are the subject of the contemplation of angels and seraphs. You are beginning to reflect on the past, and the future; the distant, the grand, the infinite, when every thought takes hold on eternity. You are commencing an inquiry which has never been continued long, and which has never been conducted to a happy issue without prayer. To your mind all is dark, and in this inquiry you need above all things the guidance of the Father of lights, and you will never find the path to heaven till "in his light you see light." What, then, can be more appropriate for a human being in these circumstances than prayer?

Are there any of you whose minds are in the condition described in this discourse-serious, thoughtful, pondering the question, What shall I do to be saved? Go to your closets. Pray. Alone with the God that made you-with the Father of lights-with him who hears prayer-ask him this great question, What must I do to be saved? If your Maker has never heard the voice of prayer before come from your lips, this night, ere you slumber, let him hear the humble, fervent cry for knowledge, for mercy, for salvation.

SERMON XI.

CONVICTION OF SIN.

PSALM li. 4.—“ Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight; that thou mightest be justified when thou speakest, and be clear when thou judgest."

THE plan of salvation is designed for sinners. None are saved by that plan who are not regarded as such. The gospel has no significancy unless it be supposed that men are violators of the law of God. It has no peculiar adaptation to men except on that supposition. It seeks to excite the conviction that he is a sinner in the bosom of every man whom it addresses, and it is certain that no one will appreciate its provisions, or be saved by it, who does not feel and admit that truth in regard to himself. If there is, therefore, any one who is unwilling to admit, in the proper sense of the term, that he is a sinner, he should not entertain the hope of being saved by the gospel, and should not feel himself specially addressed in any of its communications. It is indispensable that a man, if he would be saved, should be convinced of sin. The two preceding discourses were, respectively, on the state of man as the gospel finds him,. and on the condition of the mind when it begins to reflect on the subject of religion. We advance a step further in unfolding the way of salvation by considering the state of the mind when under conviction for sin. I shall explain what is meant by the term; consider the law of our nature in accordance with which conviction for sin is produced; and show what it is that the sinner is convinced of in that state, or what constitutes genuine conviction of sin.

I. What is meant by the term conviction of sin. The short and perhaps the sufficient explanation of this is, being convinced of sin so as to feel and acknowledge that we are sinners. The term has, however, somewhat of a technical and theological signification which makes it necessary to explain it somewhat further; and unfortunately, also, it is so associated in the minds of many with what they would be pleased to regard as cant or fanaticism—with Calvinism, or Methodism, or Evangelism—that it seems necessary, if I can, to do something to remove this