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Every few years we have people critical of the thanksgiving proclamation. They say, "We have nothing to be thankful for. Commerce down; manufactures dull; commercial prospects blasted. Better have a day for fasting than a day for feasting." Indeed, have you nothing to be thankful for? Does your heart beat? Do your eyes see? Do your ears hear? Did you sleep last night? Are the glorious heavens above your head? Is the solid earth beneath your feet? Have you a Bible, a Christ, a proffered heaven? Ay, those of us who are the worst off have more blessings than we appreciate, and "our cup runneth over."

I. THANKSGIVING IN THE HOUSE. I just want to look around and see what God has been doing for you in your home. "Oh," you say, "our house is not so large now as the one we used to have." I answer, what of that? It is a great deal of trouble to keep a large house clean. Besides that, a small house is so cosy. Besides that, it is a bad thing for children to have a luxuriant starting. But I step into your parlour, and I find there the evidences of refinement, and culture, and friendship. I go on to the next room and step into your nursery, and I am greeted with the shout and laughter of your children. They romp; they hide; they clap their hands. Busy all day, without fatigues, they fall asleep chattering and wake up singing. And the little baby has its realm, waving its sceptre over the parental heart, and you look down in its wondering eyes and see whole worlds of promise there, and think to yourself, "those little hands will smooth my locks when they get grey, and those little feet will run for me when I am sick, and those eyes will weep for me when I am gone." Thank God today that upon your home has come the brightness of childhood, and drop a tear of grief for those who weep over a despoiled cradle and toys that never will be caught up again by little hands now still, alas! forever. And I go into the dining room, and I find you have bread enough and to spare; and into your library, and you have books to read, many of them, and of the best sort. Thank God for books — plenty of them — books to make you study, books to waft you into reverie, books to make you weep, books to make you laugh; books of travel, of anecdote, of memoir, of legend; books about insects, about birds, about shells, about everything. Books for the young, books for the old. "Oh," says someone, "I have not all these luxuries; I have not all these comforts of the parlour, of the nursery, of the dining hall, of the library." But certainly you know something of the height, and depth, and length, and breadth of that sweet, tender, joyous, triumphant word "home"! "Oh, give thanks unto the. Lord; for He is good; for. His mercy endureth forever"; and let each one clap his hands, and say for himself, My cup runneth over.

II. I pass on now to look at THANKSGIVING IN THE HOVELS OF THE POOR. No banquet smoking on their table. Oh, it is hard to be hungry in a world with ripe orchards and luxuriant harvests and herds of cattle driven to the slaughter. You rich, remember these poor today, and help them to join in the thanksgiving of us all.

III. THANKSGIVING IN THE CHURCH. I know there are those who think the Church is a museum of antediluvian fossils. They think it did very well once, but it is behind the times. That is not your opinion. You love, first, your home, and next, your church. O ye descendants of the men who were hounded amid the Highlands of Scotland, and who fell at Bothwell Bridge; O ye sons and daughters of the men who came across wintry seas to build their log churches in the American wilderness; O ye sons and daughters of those who stood in the awful siege of Leyden, and shouted the martyrs' triumph in the horrors of the Brussels marketplace; O ye descendants of the men whose garments were dyed in the wine press of Saint Bartholomew Massacre; ye sons and daughters of the fire, what do you think today of a quiet Church, and a free pulpit, and a Gospel winged with mercy and salvation? What imperial edict forbids our convocation? What sword thirsts for our blood? What fires are kindled for our torture? None. Defended by the law, invited by the Gospel, baptized by the Spirit, we are here today free men of the state, free men of God. Let us give thanks. And let there be —

IV. THANKSGIVING IN THE CITY — for good laws, just judges, quiet Sabbaths, noble churches, etc.

V. THANKSGIVING IN THE NATION — for peace and prosperity, etc.

(T. De Witt Talmage.)

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KJV: Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

WEB: You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil. My cup runs over.