"Pwi-'i CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY GIFT OF Alfred C. Barnes Date Due WKMt t3bw- Haft- ■' JUN 30" ■t9Ts F JIAY12 JiJtff^t r ^^ MftvW- 1 F8 MR 1 JUtt^ rSt$«fc£ PRINTED IN U. S. A. (Qf CAT * NO. 23239 Cornell University Library BT375 .A76 1893 Parables of our Lord / by William Arnot lllllllll 1IIII olin 3 1924 029 312 869 THE PARABLES OF OUR LORD. Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924029312869 THE PARABLES OF OUR LORD. REV. WILLIAM ARNOT. T. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW. EDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK. 1893 9 B-5'7 CONTENTS INTRODUCTION, L The Sower, II. The Tares, III. The Mustard Seed, ... IV. The Leaven, V. The Hidden Treasure, VI. The Pearl, VII. The Draw-Net, ... VIII. 7/fcc Unmerciful Servant, IX. 7%£ Vineyard Labourers, X. 7/k 7ro» .Sow, XI. 7/fo Wicked Husbandmen, XII. The Royal Man iage Feast, XIII. 7X* 7>« Virgins, ... XIV. 77« Entrusted Talents, XV. 7/&£ .£?«/ Growing Secretly, XVI. The Two Debtors, ... XVII 7>k Good Samaritan, XVIII 7X* Friend at Midnight, 11 43 75 101 in 128 '44 160 •85 204 223 237 254 282 299 312 326 34i 357 CONTENTS. XIX. The Rich Fool, XX. The Barren Fig-Tree, XXI. The Excuses, XXII. The Lost Sheep, ... XXIII. The Lost Coin, ... XXIV. The Prodigal Son, XXV. The Piudent Steward, XXVI. The Rich Man and Lazaiui, XXVII. Unprofitable Servants, XXVIII, The Importunate Widow, ... XXIX. The Pharisee and the Publican, XXX. The Servants and the Pounds, 369 ... 378 ... 387 402 422 427 451 465 ... 483 497 500. — 520 INTRODUCTION. j|E have been accustomed to regard with affec- tionate veneration the ' life-work of the Re- formers, and the theology of the Reformation. Of a later date, and in our own vernacular, we have inherited from the Puritans an indigenous theology, great in quantity and precious in kind, — a legacy that has enriched our age more, perhaps, than the age is alto- gether willing to acknowledge. At various periods from the time of the Puritans to the present, our stock of sacred literature has received additions of incalculable value. So vast and varied have our stores become at length, that an investigator of the present day can scarcely expect to find a neglected spot where he may enjoy the luxury of cultivating virgin soil : so ably, moreover, have our predecessors fulfilled their tasks, that a modern in- quirer, obliged to deal with familiar themes, cannot con- sole himself with the expectation of dealing with them to better purpose. It does not follow, however, that a con- tribution to the literature of theology is useless, because it neither touches a new theme, nor treats an old more ably The literature of one century, whether sacred or com- mon, will not, when served up in the lump, satisfy the craving and sustain the life of another. The nineteenth 12 INTRODUCTION. century must produce its own literature, as it raises its own corn, and fabricates its own garments. The intel- lectual and spiritual treasures of the past should indeed be reverently preserved and used ; but they should -be used as seed. Instead of indolently living on the stores which our fathers left, we should cast them into the ground, and get the product fresh every season — old, and yet ever new. The intellectual and spiritual life of an age will wither, if it has nothing wherewith to sustain itself, but the food which grew in an earlier era ; it must live on the fruits that grow in its own time, and under its own eye. Nor will a servile imitation of the ancient masters suffice. A mere reproduction, for example, of the Puritan theology would not be suitable in our day ; while the truth, which constitutes its essence, remains the same, it must be cast in the moulds of modern thought, and tinged with the hues of modern experience. Engineers surveying for a railway lay down the line level, or as nearly level as the configuration of the surface will permit ; but an engineer's level is not a straight line ; it is the segment of a circle, — that circle being the circum- ference of the globe. The line which practically consti- tutes a level bends downwards continually as it goes for- ward, following the form of the earth, and at every point being at right angles to the radius. If it were produced in an absolutely straight line, it would, in the course of a few miles, be high and dry above the surface of the earth, and entirely useless for the practical purposes of life. Such would sacred literature become if in blind admiration of the fathers, the children should simply use the old, and not produce the new. As we advance along the course of time, we are, as it were, tracing a circle ; and he who ANALOGY. 13 would be of use in his generation, must bend his specu- lations to the time, and let them touch society on the level at every point in the progress of the race. To throw a new contribution into the goodly store does not, there- fore, imply a judgment on the part of the writer that the modern theology is better than the ancient. We must make our own: it concerns us and our children that what we make be in substance drawn from the word of God ; and in form, suited to the circumstances of the age. Still further, the accumulations of the past should be used by those who inherit them, as a basis on which to build. It is the business of each generation to lay another course on the wall, and so leave the structure loftier than they found it. The Bible, like the .world, is in- exhaustible ; in either department hosts of successive investigators have plied their tasks from the beginning, and yet there is room. Some observations are here submitted, more or less strictly introductory to a treatise on a specific branch of Scriptural exegesis — the Parables of Our Lord. I.— A N A L O G Y. As the husbandman's first care is neither the fruit nor the tree which bears it, but the soil in which the tree must grow : so an expositor, whose ultimate aim is to explain and enforce the parables of Jesus, should mark well at the outset the fundamental analogies which pervade the works of God, and constitute the basis of all figurative language, whether in human teaching or divine. The Maker and Ruler of the universe pursues an ob- ject, and works on a plan. His purpose is one, and he H INTRODUCTION. sees the end from the beginning : the variations, infinite in number, and vast in individual extent, which emerge in the details of his administration, are specific accom- modations of means to ends. The material and moral departments of the divine government are, like body and soul of a human being, widelydiverse from each other; but oneMaster administers both with a view to a common end. The two departments are different in kind, and therefore the laws which regulate the one cannot be the same as the laws which regulate the other ; but in both one designer operates towards one design, and therefore the laws which regulate the one rcust be like the laws which regulate the other. From the duality of creation, there cannot be identity between the physical and moral laws ; but from the unity of the Creator there must be similarity. Nor is it only between the two great departments of the divine government generically distinguished, that analogies may spring : within either department, analogies innumerable may be found between one species and another, and even between individuals of the same species. Between two parts of the material world, or two portions of human history, or two processes of mental effort, analogies may be traced, as well as between the evolutions of matter and the laws of mind. It is not strictly correct to speak of the similitudes which we have been accustomed to admire in literature, as "creations of genius;" the utmost that is competent to genius is to observe and exhibit the similitudes as they lie in nature. An observing eye, a suggestive mind, and a loving heart constitute all the necessary apparatus ; with these faculties in exercise, let any one stalk abroad upon the earth among his fellows, and analogies will ANALOGY. IS spring spontaneously around him, as manifold and as beautiful as the flowers that by daylight look up from the earth, or the stars that in the evening reciprocate from heaven the gentle salutation. Analogy occupies the whole interval between absolute identity on the one hand, and complete dissimilarity on the other. You would not say there is an analogy between two coins of the same metal, struck successively from the same die; for all practical purposes they are identical. Although the two objects are thoroughly dis^ tinct, as all their sensible qualities are the same, we are accustomed to speak of them not as similar but the same. In order that a comparison may be effective either for ornament or for use, there must be, between the two acts or objects, a similarity in some points, and a dissimilarity in others. The comparison for moral or aesthetic purposes is like an algebraic equation in mathematical science ; if the two sides are in all their features the same, or in all their features different, you may manipulate the signs till the sun go down, but you will obtain no useful' result : it is only when they are in some of their terms the same and in some different, that you can bring fruit from their union. We stand here on the brink of a great deep. For wise ends the system of nature has been constructed upon a line intermediate between the extremes of sameness and diversity. If the measure of difference between classes and individuals had been much greater or much smaller than it is, the accumulation of knowledge would have been extremely difficult, or altogether impossible. It is by the combination of similarity and dissimilarity among sensible objects that science from its lowest to its highest measures becomes possible. If all animals, or all plants »6 INTRODUCTION. had been in their sensible qualities precisely the same there would have been of animals or vegetables only one class : we could have had no knowledge regarding them, except as individuals : our knowledge would at this day have been less than that of savages. Again, if all animals or all plants had been in their sensible qualities wholly dissimilar — all from each, and each from all, it would have been impossible to frame classes ; our knowledge, as on the opposite supposition, would have been limited to our observation of individuals. In either case Zoology or Botany would have been impossible. Man, endowed with intelligence, could not, in such a world, have found exercise for his faculties. It would have been like a see- ' ing eye without a shining light. The power would have lain dormant for want of a suitable object. Ask the Botanist, the Naturalist, the Chemist — ask the votary of any science, what makes accumulated knowledge possible ; he will tell you, it is the similarity which enables him to classify, accompanied by the diversity which enables him to distinguish. Wanting these two qualities in balanced union there could be no analogy; and wanting analogy, man could not be capable of occupying the place which has been assigned to him in creation.* * But in order to employ analogy with effect more is needful than to make sure that the two objects or acts compared are similar without being identical : the design for which a comparison is made enters as an essential element, and decisively determines its value. Between two given objects an analogy may exist, good for one purpose but worthless for another. Given two balls, spherical in form and equal in size, the one of wood and the other of iron ; and let the question be, Do these two objects bear any analogy to each other, real in itself and capable of being usefully employed ! The question cannot yet be answered : we must first ascertain for what purpose the comparison is instituted. The two balls are like each other in form, but unlike in material ; whether is it in respect of their form or their material that you propose to compare them ? If one of them rolls along a gently inclined plane, you may safely infer that the other, when placed iD ANALOGY. 17 In suggesting probabilities and throwing out lines of inquiry, analogy is of unspeakable value in every branch of science ; in sacred apologetics its specific use is to des- troy the force of objections which may be plausibly urged against facts or doctrines otherwise established; but it is as an instrument for explaining, illustrating, fixing, and impressing moral and spiritual truth that we are mainly concerned with it here. God's word is as full of analogies as his works. The histories, offerings, and prophecies of the Old Testament are figures of better things which have been brought to light by the gospel. The lessons of the Lord and his apostles teem with types. Almost every doctrine is given in duplicate : the spirit is provided with a body; a body clothes the spirit. Every fruitful vine has a strong elm to which it clings; every strong elm supports a fruitful vine. One important use of analogy in moral teaching is to fix the lesson on the imagination and the memory, as you the same position, will follow the same course ; for although different in other features they are similar in form. But you cannot infer that because one floats when thrown into the water the other will float too, for in respect to specific gravity there is no similarity between them. Again, let two pieces of wood, cut from the same tree, be brought together, the one a cube, the other a sphere ; you may safely conclude, if one swim in water that the other will swim too, because though of diverse forms they are of the same specific gravity ; but you cannot conclude, if the one roll on an inclined plane, that the other will roll also, because though of the same specific gravity they are of diverse forms. Two objects may be compared for the purpose of infer- ential analogy, although in nine of their qualities they are wholly dissimilar, if they resemble each other in one, and that the quality with respect to which the comparison is instituted. Again, although two objects be similar in nine of their properties, and dissimilar only in one, no useful analogy can be instituted between them if the object for which the comparison is made have respect to the one point in which they are dissimilar. An acquaintance with such simple rudiments would go far to correct blunders both in the construction and the exposition of analogies. (Bl 2 1 8 INTRODUCTION. might moor a boat to a tree on the river's brink to prevent it from gliding down during the night with the stream. A just analogy suggested at' the moment serves to pre- vent the more ethereal spiritual conception from sliding out of its place. In practical morals analogy is employed to surprise and so overcome an adverse will, rather than merely to help a feeble understanding. In this department most of the Lord's parables lie. When a man is hardened by in- dulgence in his own sin, so that he cannot perceive the truth which condemns it, the lesson which would have been kept out, if it had approached in a straight line be- fore his face, may be brought home effectually by a cir- cuitous route in the form of a parable. When the con- science stands on its guard against conviction you may sometimes turn the flank of its defences unperceived, and make the culprit a captive ere he is aware. The Phari- sees were frequently outwitted in this manner. With complacent self-righteousness they would stand on the outside of the crowd, and, from motives of curiosity, listen to the prophet of Nazareth as he told his stories to the people, until at a sudden turn they perceived that the graphic parable which pleased them so well, was the drawing of the bow that plunged the arrow deep in their own hearts. A man may be so situated that though his life is in imminent danger, he cannot perceive the danger, and consequently makes no effort to escape. Further, his mind may be so prejudiced that he still counts the beam on which he stands secure, although a neighbour has faith- fully given warning that it is about to fall ; it may be that because he stands on it he cannot see its frailty. Let some friend who knows his danger, but wishes him well. ANALOGY. 19 approach the spot and hold a mirror in such a position that the infatuated man shall see reflected in it the undei and ailing side of the beam that lies between him and the abyss. The work is done: the object is gained: the confident fool, made wise at length, leaps for life upon the solid ground. Although the faculty of perceiving and understanding analogies is inherent in humanity, and consequently co- extensive with the race, it is developed in a higher degree in some persons and in some communities than in others. The common opinion, that the inhabitants of mountainous countries possess this faculty in a higher measure than the inhabitants of the plains, seems to be sustained by facts. Within the borders of our own island it is quite certain that the Scotch and the Welsh employ figures more readily and relish them more intensely than the English. How far the difference may be directly due to the physical configuration of the country cannot perhaps be accurately ascertained ; but doubtless the mountains contribute indirectly to the result, by rendering access more difficult, and so producing a greater measure of iso- lation and simplicity. It is an acknowledged and well-known fact, moreover, that the inhabitants of eastern countries are more prone to employ figurative language than the peoples of western Europe ; but it is difficult to determine how far this char- acteristic is due to the meteorological and geographical features of the continent, and how far to hereditary peculiarities of race. Looking merely to the physical features of their country, you might expect that the inhabitants of Palestine would possess in a high degree the faculty of suggesting and appreciating analogical conceptions ; the peculiar history 20 INTRODUCTION. and jurisprudence of the people must have tended power- fully in the same direction. Accordingly, as might have been expected from the circumstances of the nation, it appears in point of fact on the whole face of the Scrip- tures, that as the institutes of the commonwealth were symbolical, the language of the people was figurative. They were at home in metaphor. It was their vernacular. The sudden and bold adoption of physical forms in order to convey spiritual conceptions, did not surprise — did not puzzle them. " Ye are the salt of the earth," " Whereso- ever the carcase is, there will the eagles be gathered to- gether," fell upon their ears, not as a foreign dialect, but as the accents of their native tongue. It might easily be shown that no other characteristic connected with the form of the Scriptures could have done so much to facilitate their diffusion in all climes, and in all ages, as the analogical mould in which a large proportion of their conceptions is cast ; but this is scarcely denied by any, and is easily comprehended by all. In another point of view, less obvious, and not so frequently noticed, the prevalence in the Scriptures of analogical forms, attaching spiritual doctrines to natural objects and historic facts, has served a good purpose in the evidences and exposi- tion of revealed religion. The more abstract terms of a language are not so distinctly apprehended as the more con- crete, and in the course of ages are more liable to change. The habit, universal among the writers of the Scriptures from the most ancient to the latest, of making abstract moral conceptions fast to pillars of natural objects and current facts, has contributed much to fix the doctrines like fossils for all time, and so to diminish the area of con- troversy. All the more steadily and safely has revealed truth come down from the earliest time to the present day, PARABLES. 21 that it has in every part of its course run on two distinct but parallel tracks. II.— PARABLES. The parable is one of the many forms in which the innate analogy between the material and the moral may be, and has been practically applied.* The difficulty of constructing a definition which should include every similitude that belongs to this class, and exclude all others, has been well appreciated by expositors and frankly confessed. The parables of the New Testament, after critics have done their utmost to generalize and classify, must in the end be accounted sui generis, and treated apart from all others. The etymology of the name affords us no help, for it is applied without discri- mination to widely diverse forms of comparison ; it indi- cates the juxtaposition of two thoughts or things, with the view of exhibiting and employing the analogy which may be found to subsist between them ; but several other terms convey precisely the same meaning, and therefore it cannot supply us with the distinguishing characteristic of a class. As far as I have been able to observe, hardly anything has been gained at this point by the application of logical processes. The distinctions * Christ made it his business to speak in parables ; and, indeed, one may say, the whole visible world is only a parable of the invisible world. The parable is not only something intermediate between history and doctrine ; it is both history and doctrine — at once historical doctrine and doctrina history. Hence its enchaining, ever fresher, and younger charm. Yes, the parable is nature's own language in the human heart ; hence its universal intelligibility, its, so to speak, permanent sweet scent, its healing balsam, its mighty power to win one to come again and again to hear. In short, the parable is the voice of the people, and hence also the voice of God.— Die Gldchniss-reden jksu Christi, von Fred. Armil, vol. i. 2. 9a INTRODUCTION. which have been successfully made are precisely those which are sufficiently obvious without a critical appara- tus ; and in regard to those comparisons which bear the closest affinity to the parable, and in which, on account of the rainbow-like blending of the boundaries, logical definitions are most needed, logical definitions have most signally failed. Scholars have, for example, successfully distinguished parables from myths and fables ; but this is laboriously to erect a fence between two flocks that in their nature manifest no tendency to intermingle ; whereas, from some other forms of analogy, such as the allegory, the parable cannot be separated by a definition expressed in general terms, which shall be at once universally appli- cable and universally understood. Into all parables human motives and actions go as constituents, and in most of them the processes of nature are also interwoven. The element of human action is generally introduced in a historic form, as " a certain man had two sons ;" but some of the similitudes of Scripture, which by general consent are reckoned parables, lack this feature, as for example, the Lost Sheep.* " What man of you, having an hundred sheep?" For my own part, while there are some that, on the one hand, I can with confidence include, and some that, on the other, I must with equal confidence keep out, I see not a few lying * It is not, however, by the universal consent of critics that even this is admitted as a genuine parable. Schultze boldly excludes it ; but he excludes also all the group in Matt. xiii. except the Tares. By one arbitrary rule after another, he cuts down the whole number of our Lord's parables to eleven. — A. H. A. Schultze, de pambolatum J. C. indole poetica com. Men have good cause to suspect the accuracy of their artificial rules, when the application of them works such havoc. Better that we should have no critical rules, than adopt such as separate on superficial literal grounds, things that the judgment of the Church and the common sense of men have in all iges joined together as substantially of the same class. PARABLES. 23 ambiguous on the border. My judgment inclines to what seems a medium between two extremes, — between the decision of some German philosophical expositors who are too critical, and the decision of some English practical preachers who are not critical enough. I would fain eschew, on the one hand, the laborious trifling by which it is proved that the parable of the Sower is not a parable ; and, on the other hand, the unfortunate facility which admits into the number almost all similitudes indiscri- minately. I shall adopt the list of Dr Trench,* thirty in number, as being on the whole a fair and convenient medium ; although I could not undertake to demonstrate that these only, and these all possess the qualities which in his judgment go to constitute a parable. Some that are included can scarcely be distinguished by logical definitions from some that are excluded ; but so far am I from considering this a defect, that I deem it a neces- sary result of the impalpable infinitesimal graduation by which the fully-formed parable glides down into the brief detached metaphorical aphorism, in the words of the Lord Jesus during the period of his ministry. Certain figurative lessons, differing from the parable on the one hand, and the allegory on the other, may be found scattered up and down both in the Scriptures and in secular literature, whose distinguishing characteristic is, that they are not spoken but enacted, and which I am disposed to regard as more nearly allied than any other to the parables of our Lord. They seem to constitute a species of simple primitive germinal drama. Some examples occur in the history of the Hebrew monarchy before the period of the captivity. At Elisha's request, Joash, King of Israel, shot arrows * Notes on the Parables. *4 INTRODUCTION. from a bow, in token of the victory which he should obtain over the Syrians. Left without instructions as to the frequency with which the operation should be re- peated, the king shot three arrows successively into the ground, and paused. Thereupon the prophet, interpreting the symbol, declared that the subjugation of the Syrians would not be complete (2 Kings xiii.) Another specimen may be observed, shining through the history in the reign of Jehoshaphat, when a prophet named Chenaanah made a pair of iron horns, and flattered the King of Israel by the symbol that he would push the Syrians till he should consume them (2 Chron. xvii. 10). About the time of the captivity, and in the hands of Ezekiel, this species of parable appears with great distinctness of outline, and considerable fulness of detail. When a frivolous people would not take warning of their danger, the prophet, godly and grave, took a broad flat tile, and sketched on it the outline of a besieged city, and lay on his left side, silently contemplating the symbol of his country's fate (chap, iv.) The strange act of the revered man attracted many eyes, and stirred new questionings in many hearts. Equally graphic is the representation of Israel's captivity, in the dramatic parable recorded in chap, xii., where the prophet personally enacts the melancholy process of pack- ing his goods, and escaping as an exile. From the subsequent history, we learn that this signi- ficant act arrested attention ; the people gazed in wonder on the sign, and anxiously inquired into its meaning. It is eminently worthy of notice that the lavish and bold imagery of Ezekiel effectually served the immediate purpose for which it was employed ; it attracted the people's regard, explained the prophecy to their under- standings, and fixed the lessons in their memories. It is PARABLES. sj true, indeed, that they did not repent ; but this only shows that parables, even when dictated by the Spirit, have not inherent power to convert ; even God's word may, through the hearer's sin, remain a dead letter in his hand. It emerges incidentally in the history that the preaching of Ezekiel was eminently popular ; crowds came out to hear and see. The ultimate spiritual success lies in other hands ; but in as far as the instrument is concerned, it is proved, from the experience of this ancient prophet, that the mastery of analogies draws the people round the preacher's feet, and brings his lessons into contact with their minds and hearts. In modern times, much argument is employed to prove that the drama may be pure in itself, and effectual as a moral educator, — argument which, however excellent it may be in theory, has hitherto proved impotent in fact. But from the beginning it was not so ; Ezekiel was a dramatist ; he acted his prophecies and his preachings on a stage. The warnings were in this form clearly ar- ticulated, and forcefully driven home ; if they failed to produce the ultimate result of repentance, the obstacle lay not in the feebleness of the instrument, but in the wilful hardness of the subject whereon the instrument was plied. Dramatic representation in the simplicity of its infancy was a golden vessel of the sanctuary, employed in the service of God ; long ago it was carried away into Baby- lon, and profanely used as a wine cup in the orgies of idols Whether it shall ever be wrenched from the enemy, puri- fied, and restored to the service of the temple, I know not In the general history of the world, the most interesting parable of this class that occurs to my memory is one attributed to a North American Indian in conversation 3b INTRODUCTION, with a Christian missionary. The red man had previously been well instructed in the Scriptures, understood the way of salvation, and enjoyed peace with God. Desiring to explain to his teacher the turning point of his spiritual experience, he had recourse, in accordance, perhaps, with the instincts and habits of his tribe, to the language of dramatic symbols rather than to the language of articulate words. Having gathered a quantity of dry withered tree leaves, he spread them in a thin layer, and in a circular form on the level ground. He then gently laid a living worm in the centre, and set fire to the circum- ference on every side. The missionary and the Indian then stood still and silent, watching the motions of the imprisoned reptile. It crawled hastily and in alarm to- wards one side, till it met the advancing girdle of fire, and then crawled back as hastily to the other. After making several ineffectual efforts to escape, the creature retired to the centre, and coiled itself up to await its fate At this crisis, and just before the flames reached theii helpless victim, the Indian stept gravely forward, lifted the worm from its fiery prison, and deposited it in a place of safety. " Thus," this simple preacher of the cross in- dicated to the missionary, — " Thus helpless and hopeless I lay, while the wrath due to my sin advanced on every side to devour me ; and thus sovereignly, mightily, lov- ingly did Christ deliver my soul from death." III.— THE PARABLES OF THE LORD. Metaphorical language, as we have seen, is deeply rooted in the fundamental analogy which subsists between the several departments of our Creator's work ; and the THE PARABLES OF THE LORD. 2} parable is a species of figure which, for all practical pur- poses, is sufficiently distinguished from others, although it is scarcely possible to isolate it by a complete logical definition. Nor is it enough to say that those specimens which are found in the record of Christ's ministry belong to the species ; they may be said to constitute a species by themselves. The parables which are known to litera- ture beyond the pale of the evangelic histories are either very diverse in kind, or very few in number. The prac- tical result is, that while we treat the parable as a distinct species of analogical instruction, we must treat the parables spoken by the Lord as a unique and separate class. As the Lord's people in ancient times dwelt alone, and were not reckoned among the nations, the Lord's parabolic teaching stands apart by itself, and can- not with propriety be associated with other specimens of metaphorical teaching. Logically as well as spiritually it is true, that " never man spake like this man." But, when setting aside all other forms of comparison, we confine our regard to the parable, and, setting aside other specimens, we confine our regard to the parables spoken by the Lord, other questions arise concerning the internal and reciprocal relations of these peculiar com- positions ; should they be read and considered as so many independent units miscellaneously scattered over the evangelic record, or should they be classified accord- ing to the place which belongs to them in a system of dogmatics ? or can any method of treatment be suggested different from both of these extremes, and better than either ? It is doubtless competent to any inquirer to frame the doctrines which the parables illustrate into a logical scheme, and in his exposition to transpose the historical »8 INTRODUCTION. order, so that the sequence of the subjects shall coincide with his arrangement. This method is lawful in regard to the parables particularly, as it is in regard to the con- tents of Scripture generally ; but, as a method of prose- cuting the inquiry, I think it loses more on the side of topical and historical interest than it gains on the side of logical precision. As the Bible generally is in its own natural order, both more engaging and more instructive than a catechism compiled from it, although the compiler may have been both skilful and true ; the parables of the Lord, in particular, taken up as they lie in his min- istry, are both more interesting and more profitable than a logical digest of the theology which they contain, however faithfully the digest may have been made. Any one may observe, as he reads our Lord's parables, that some of them are chiefly occupied with the teaching of doctrine, and others with the reproof of prevailing sins ; but when on the basis of these and other subordinate distinctions, you proceed to arrange them into separate classes, you are met and repelled by insurmountable difficulties. When Bauer, for example, has arranged them in three divisions, dogmatic, moral, and historic, he is compelled immediately to add another class called the mixed, as dogmatic-moral and dogmatic-historic, thereby proving that his logical classification has failed.* By abandoning, for the purposes of exposition, the order in which the parables have been recorded, and * In reference to Bauer's classification, Limbourg Brower {deparabol. Jesu.) observes that the distinction between parables that are dogmatic and para- bles that are moral cannot successfully be maintained, because of the intimate union maintained in the discourses of Jesus between the revelation of truth and the inculcation of duty. This remark, in connection with its ground, is decisive not only against the particular division to which it is applied, but to all divisions, in as far as they pretend to be logically distinct and complete. THE PARABLES OF THE LORD. zg adopting a classification on the basis of contents or form, some incidental advantages are obtained ; especially some otherwise necessary repetitions are avoided, and some subordinate relations are by the juxtaposition more easily observed ; but the loss is, I apprehend, much greater than the gain. The temptation to bend the freely-growing branches of the parable, that they may take their places in the scheme, is by this method greatly increased ; while historical sequences and logical relations, lying more or less concealed in the record, are in a great measure thrown away. Accordingly, I prefer the method of maintaining in the exposition the order which the evan- gelists have adopted in the narrative. Besides the advan- tage of preserving in all cases the historical circumstances whence the parable sprung, we discover, as we follow this track, several groups associated together by the Lord in his ministry, for the sake of their reciprocal relations, and reverently preserved in their places by the evangelical historians. The seven in Matt, xiii., and the three in Luke xv., constitute the chief of those dogmatic group- ings formed to our hand in the ministry of the Lord. I refer to them here as examples, but defer the exposition of their sequences and relations, until it can be presented with greater advantage in connection with the examina- tion of their contents. A question, on some of its sides difficult, meets us here, regarding the reason why the Lord employed parables in the prosecution of his ministry. On the one hand, it is certainly true, as may be proved from all history, that com- parisons between material and moral facts or laws, spring up naturally in human converse; and further, that the truth expressed in parables, if not in all cases immediately palpable, is better fitted both to arrest attention at first. 3» INTRODUCTION. y and to imprint the lesson permanently on the learner's memory. But the use and usefulness of the parable in this respect are obvious and undisputed ; it makes spiritual truth more attractive and more memorable. The difficulty does not lie on this side; it adheres to a second function of the parable, in some respects the opposite of the first, — the function of concealing the doctrine in judgment from closed eyes and hardened hearts. In some instances and to some extent, the parables, while they conveyed the doctrine to one portion of the audience, concealed it from another. In those cases "they are like the husk which preserves the kernel from the indolent, and for the earnest."* It is the method, not unknown in other de- partments of the divine government, of making the same fact or law at once profitable to the humble, and punitive to the proud. Not only the Lord's word, but also the Lord himself, partakes of this twofold character, and pro- duces these diverse effects ; the same rock on which a meek disciple surely builds his hope, is also the stone over which scoffers stumble in their final fall. The judicial or penal function of the parable was indi- cated by the Lord in express terms when he explained the meaning of the sower in private to his own disciples (Matt. xiii. 11— 17; Mark iv. 10-13). In these cases, how- ever, the wilful blindness of men's hearts appears as the sin which brought down the punishment, and the obstacle which kept out the blessing. Every word of God is good ; but some persons maintain such an averted attitude of mind, that it glides off like sunbeams from polar snows, without ever obtaining an entrance to melt or fructify. To one of two persons who stand in the same room gazing on the same picture in the sunlight, the beauty of the land * GeHach in Langs. THE PARABLES OF THE LORD. 31 scape may be fully revealed, while to the other, on account of a certain indirectness of position and view, it appears only as an unpleasant dazzling glare. So, of two Jews who both eagerly listened to Jesus, as he taught from the fishing-boat on the Lake of Galilee, one found in the story the word of the kingdom, refreshing as cold waters to a thirsty soul, while the other, hearing the same words, perceived nothing in them but incoherent and tantalizing enigmas. For the right comprehension of the parables in particular, as of revealed truth in general, a receptive heart is a qualification even more peremptorily and essentially necessary than a penetrating understand- ing. " If any man is willing to do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God" (John vii. 17). Each of the parables contained some characteristic, or presented some aspect of Christ's kingdom. His king- dom was not of this world, and therefore it was intensely distasteful to the carnal Jews of that day. The idea did not readily enter their mind; and when it did in some measure penetrate, it kindled in their corrupt hearts a flame of persecuting rage. It was necessary that the ' Lord should, during the period of his personal ministry, fully develop and deposit the seed of the kingdom ; but it was necessary also that he should remain on earth until the set time when his ministry as prophet should terminate in his offering as priest. Now, if he had at any period displayed all the characteristics of his kingdom in terms which the mob and their rulers were able to comprehend, the persecution that ultimately crucified him, would have burst prematurely forth, and so deranged the plan of the Omniscient. It was necessary, for example, in order to provide consolation for his own disciples in subsequent temptations, that the Lord should predict his own death 3 « INTRODUCTION. / and resurrection; but this prediction when uttered in public, was veiled from hostile, eyes under the symbol, " Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up" (John ii. 19). More generally, it was necessary that such features of the kingdom as its spiritual character and its expansive power should be made known to true disciples for their instruction and encouragement, but hidden for a time from persecutors in order to restrain their enmity. Parables served the twofold purpose. Tender, teachable spirits caught the meaning at once ; or, if they failed, they asked and obtained an explanation from the Master in private ; while those who had not the single eye, were for the time left in darkness. It was their own hardness that kept out the light ; their own hardness was employed as the instrument whereby judgment was inflicted upon themselves.* IV.— THE INTERPRETATION OF THE PARABLES. Of the parables in particular, as of the Scriptures generally, it is true that faith is necessary to the full appreciation of their meaning. That you must under- stand the Scriptures in order to have faith, and have faith in order to understand the Scriptures, is indeed, a circle ; * In Matthew (xiii. 13) he speaks in parables, " because (Sn), they see- ing, see not : " and in Mark (iv. 12), and Luke (viii. io), " that {Tim) seeing they might not see." Two different objects were effected at the same time, and by the same act, corresponding to those two terms ; it is true that the Lord employed parables, as one employs pictures to teach a child, bccaust his auditors were children in understanding ; and it is also true that he veiled his doctrines under metaphor in order that those who were children in understanding but in malice men, might not perceive his drift, and so might not violently interfere to suppress his ministry. Thus according to the ex- planation which he gave at the moment, "Whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance ; but whosoever hath not, {rom him shall be taken away even that he hath " (Matt. xiii. 1 2). INTERPRETATION OP THE PARABLES. 33 but it is not a vicious circle. As you approach from without, you may perceive that the Bible is the word of God, and that the Christ whom it reveals is the Saviour of sinners ; standing now on your new position, and re- cognising your Instructor as also your Redeemer, you will discover in his word a length, and breadth, and height, and depth, which were formerly concealed. In our day, as well as when the parables were first spoken, it is to his own disciples that their true meaning is made known. Another cognate requisite to the true spiritual compre- hension of these divine sayings, is sympathy with the view which Jesus took and gave of human nature in its fallen state. He spoke and acted not only as the Teacher of the ignorant, but also as the Saviour of the lost : if we do not occupy the same stand-point, and look upon humanity in the same light, we shall stumble at every step in our effort to comprehend what the Speaker meant. These two qualifications are supreme; and they apply alike to divine revelation as a whole, and to each of its parts ; there are others which are important though subor- dinate, and which bear more specially on the particular department of Scripture exegesis with which we are here engaged, the Parables of the Lord.* 1. The faculty of perceiving and appreciating analogies It is certainly not necessary that an interpreter of Scrip- * The Parables of the Kingdom are, as it were, a picture gallery, and we walk up and down it, examining each picture by itsell. We must not forget, however, that these are heavenly pictures that hang around us, — that hea- venly things are here exposed to view. A heavenly interpreter walks by our side : we must have a heavenly sense if we would grasp the meaning of what we hear and see. If our study quicken this sense within us, so that it shall grow clearer and sharper before every picture, a rich treat awaits us, for the heavenly Gallery is great. — Draseke, vom Reich Gottes, i., 270. «> 3 34 INTRODUCTION. ture should be a poet; but to possess in some measure that eye for parallels which constitutes the basis of the poetic faculty, is a most desirable qualification for one who proposes to help his neighbours in the study of the parables. It is, indeed, true that a man who possesses only a very small measure of this or of other mental gifts, may read these lessons of the Lord with spiritual profit to himself; but the pictorial theology of the New Testa- ment is not safe in the hands of a teacher who is signally defective in the faculty to which it specially appeals. Learning, and zeal, and faith combined may, in this de- partment, expend much labour to little purpose, for lack of power to perceive the point of the analogy. But, on the other hand, 2. A stern logic is as necessary as a lively imagination. Deficient in the analogical faculty, you cannot in this department go quickly forward ; but deficient in the logi- cal faculty, you will go forward too fast and too far. We need a well-spread, well-filled sail; but we need also a helm to direct the ship in the path of safety. Restraining, discriminating judgment, is as necessary as impulsive power. Every one who possesses even a moderate ac- quaintance with the literature of this department will, I am persuaded, acknowledge the justice of this observa- tion. Some expositors of the parables, especially in more ancient times, remind one of the Great Eastern in the Atlantic when her rudder was disabled. There is plenty of impelling force, but this force, for want of a director, only makes the ship go round and round in a weltering sea. From the pages of those commentators, whose imagi- nations have broken loose, you may cull fancies as mani- fold, as beautiful, and as useless as the gyrations of a helmless ship in a stormy sea. INTERPRETATION OF THE PARABLES. 35 3. Some competent acquaintance, not only with the Scriptures, but also with the doctrines which the Scriptures contain, arranged in a dogmatic system, is necessary as a safeguard in the interpretation of the parables. A scien- tific acquaintance with natural history is necessary not only in order to an intelligent appreciation of the contents of a museum, but also in order that you may turn to good account your miscellaneous observation of nature ; in like manner, although a correct exegesis of Scripture supplies us with our only true dogmatics, the knowledge of dogma- tics, scientifically arranged, contributes in turn to a correct exegesis. This remark has been drawn from me by my own experience in the study of this deparment of theo- logical literature. If we would avoid the mistakes into which his own contemporaries fell, we must read the Lord's parables in connection with the fuller exposition of divine truth which he commissioned and inspired the apostles to give. Except in some cases where an explanation is sub- joined, or the circumstances exclude all uncertainty, it is not safe for us to lean on a parable as an independent evidence of a dogma. The pictorial illustrations and the more direct doctrinal statements of Scripture should go together for reciprocal elucidation and support. More especially it is extremely dangerous for a theologian, when he has a purpose to be served and an adversary to be refuted, to grasp a parable in the sense which suits his view, and wield it as a weapon of offence; in such a case he will probably do more execution upon himself than upon his antagonist. The importance of this point will be more fully seen when we consider the parables in de- tail. 4. Some knowledge of relative history, topography, and customs should be at hand for use ; but, at the same time. 36 INTRODUCTION. ./ these things should be resolutely kept in their own place They may be good servants, bm they are bad masters. Through a signal defect in the knowledge of oriental an- tiquity, an interpreter may permit some beautiful allu- sions to slip through his hands unperceived ; but, on the other hand, it ought to be frankly conceded, and, if neces- sary, firmly maintained, that the profitable use of our Lord's parables does not depend on rare and difficult erudition. If a deficiency in this department infers the risk of baldness in the exposition, a redundance supplies a temptation to pedantic display. It is one thing to place some ancient eastern custom in such a position that a ray of light from its surface shall pleasantly illumine a feature of the parable that was lying in the shade, and all another thing to make the parable a convenience for the exhibition of a scholar's lore. With more immediate reference to the exposition here- with submitted, it is enough to intimate that it is neither a compend of criticism, nor merely a series of ' sermons. I have endeavoured to combine the substance of a critical investigation with the direct exhortation which becomes a minister of the gospel, when fellow- sinners constitute his audience, and the Bible supplies his theme. On the one hand, no important difficulty has been consciously slurred over without an effort to satisfy the judgment of a studious reader ; and, on the othet hand, no opportunity has been omitted of pressing the gospel of Christ on the consciences of men. THE PARABLES OF OUR LORD. THE GROUP IN MATT. XIII. ' The same day went Jesus out of the house, and sat by the sea side. And great multi- tudes were gathered together unto him, so that he went into a ship, and sat ; and the whole multitude stood on the shore. And he spake many things unto them in parables." — Matt. xiii. 1-3. j|N Matthew's narrative, the first specimen of that peculiar pictorial method which characterized the teaching of our Lord, is not an isolated parable occurring in the midst of a miscel- laneous discourse, but a group of seven presented in one continuous and connected report. Nor is the grouping due to the logical scheme of the Evangelist; we have here, not the historian's digest of many disjointed utter- ances, but a simple chronological record of facts. In this order have these seven parables been recorded by the servant, because in this order they were spoken by the Lord. It does not in the least detract from the sound- ness of this judgment to concede that some of .them were spoken also in other circumstances and other combina- tions. There is no ground whatever for assuming that one of our Lord's signal sayings could not have been 38 THE GROUP IN MATT. Xjn. spoken in one place, because it can be proved that it was spoken at another. From the/iature of the subjects, and the form which Christ's ministry assumed, it might be confidently anticipated that the parables and other sharply relieved similitudes would recur, in whole or in part, in different discourses and before different assemblies: with this supposition accordingly the facts agree, as they may be gathered from a synopsis of the several narratives. Among the later German critics, it is distinctly con- ceded by Lange that these seven parables were spoken by the Lord in the order of Matthew's record, although some of them appear to have been spoken also at other times. If it could have been proved that none of the parables had ever been spoken a second time, the cir- cumstance would have constituted a non-natural and inexplicable phenomenon. A measure of logical order and reciprocal relation has always been observed in this cluster of parables. While some of the relations, and these the most important, are so obvious that they have been observed alike by all inquirers, in regard to others a considerable diversity of opinion has prevailed. Some, in the sequences of the group, look only for various phases of the kingdom, pre- sented in logical divisions and sub-divisions : others find here, in addition, a prophetic history of the Church, like that which the Apocalypse contains. For my own part I am disposed to confine my view to that which I consider sure and obvious, — the representation of the kingdom of God in different aspects, according to a logical arrange- ment, not pronouncing judgment regarding the soundness of the prophetic view, but simply passing it by, as being from its nature difficult and dim. The first six readily fall into three successive well THE GROUP IN MATT. XIII. 39 defined pairs, and the seventh stands clearly designated by its subject as an appropriate conclusion. The first pair exhibit the RELATIONS of the kingdom to the several classes of intelligent creatures with which, as adversaries or subjects, it comes into contact: the second pair exhibit the PROGRESS of the kingdom from small beginnings to a glorious issue: the third pair exhibit the Precious- NESS of the kingdom, in comparison with all other objects of desire: and the remaining one teaches that the good and evil which intermingle on earth will be com- pletely and finally separated in the great day. Thus — I. Relations.... -< I. J. Progress -< III. Preciousness - IV Separation. "i. The Sower ; the relation of the kingdom to different classes oj men. 2. The Tares ; the relation of the kingdom to the wicked one. 'i. The Mustard-seed; the progress of the kingdom under the idea of a living growth. 2. The Leaven; the progress of the kingdom under the idea of a contagious outspread. i. The Hid Treasure ; the precious- ness of the kingdom under the idea of discoveringwhatwashid. 2. The Goodly Pearl; the precious- ness of the kingdom under the idea of closing with what is offered. The Draw-net; the separation be- tween good and evil in the great day. +0 THE GROUP IN MATT. XIII. _,. It is not a. valid objection to this division that in several cases, if not in all, the subjects reciprocally overlap each other; it is, in the circumstances, natural and necessary that they should. Thus, in regard to the first pair, the work of the adversary appears in the sower, and the con- tact of believers with unbelievers appears in the tares; but I think these are in either case incidental and sub- ordinate, while the leading idea of the first is the reception given to the gospel by different classes of men, and the leading idea of the second is the wile of the devil in his effort to destroy the work of Christ. We must, however, beware of giving too much and too minute attention to the sequences and mutual relations of the parables. Most of them, in point of fact, are found in the narrative as isolated lessons, each complete in itself and independent of others. Even in this group, although the connections are interesting and obvious, they are not essential. The meaning of each specimen may be substantially discerned without reference to its place in the series. By studying each apart you may learn the lesson well ; but by studying all together you may learn the lesson better. On the face of the narrative it appears that the first four were addressed to a multitude; congregated on the margin of the lake, and the last three more privately to a smaller circle of disciples in a neighbouring house ; but there seems no ground for supposing that the two por- tions were separated from each other by any considerable interval of time or space. I freely concede that there is some ground for the distinction between the more outward and obvious as- pects of the kingdom presented in the first four, and the more inward and experimental matters which, in " THE GROUP TN MATT. XI n. 4' the last three, were subsequently communicated to a more private circle; but., the distinction, though real and perceptible, does not appear to me so fundamental and so deeply marked as to justify those who make it the turning-point of their exposition. There is a parallel which the thoughtful reader of the Scriptures will not fail to observe, although a prudent .expositor will beware of attempting to trace it too mi- nutely, between the seven parables of this chapter and the epistles to the Seven; Churches of Asia, in the beginning of the Apocalypse. The; two groups agree in this, that both represent by a series of examples various features of the kingdom, and various obstacles with which it must contend : they differ in that, while the examples given in the Gospels are -pictures drawn by the imagination, the examples given in the Apocalypse are facts taken from history. But as all the characteristics and. vicissitudes of his Church were present to the Head from the beginning, it was as easy for him to exhibit an image of its condition through the ministry of Matthew, as to record examples after they emerged in fact,, through the ministry. of John. In both cases — alike in the pictures presented to the Galilean crowd and the registered events sent to the Asiatic Churches — the Master's design is to exhibit the kingdom on all its sides, that the observer's view, whether of beauties or of blemishes, may be correct and full. I subjoin for the reader's information the view of those who see in this series of parables the subsequent historical development of the Church, as it is briefly and clearly expressed by Lange : " We trace in the parable of the sower a picture of the apostolic age ; in the parable of the tares, the ancient Catholic Church springing up in the midst of heresies ; in the parable of the mustard-bush 42 THE GROUP IN MATT. XIII, resorted to by birds of the air as if it bad been a tree, and loaded with their nests, a representation of the outward Church as established under C6nstantine the Great ; in the leaven that is mixed among the three measures of meal, the pervading and transforming influence of Christianity in the mediaeval Church among the barbarous races of Europe ; in the parable of the treasure in the field, the period of the Reformation ; in the parable of the pearl, the contrast between Christianity and the acquisitions of modern culture and secularism ; and in the last parable a picture of the closing judgment." The parallel which the same critic institutes between the seven parables of this group and the seven beatitudes of the Sermon on the Mount, is an attractive study, and some of the coincidences are obvious and beautiful ; but this line of observation should be jealously kept subor- dinate to the primary ' substantial lesson which each parable contains. On the one hand, I desire that these secondary and incidental views should not by their beauty draw to themselves a disproportionate share of our atten- tion; and on the other hand, I am disposed to respect every earnest, sober, and reverential suggestion which any Delieving inquirer may throw out, regarding the lateral references and under-current secondary meanings of the Lord's discourses ; for they possess a length and breadth, and height and depth, which will exercise the minds of devout disciples as long as the dispensation lasts, and pass all understanding when it'is done. THE SOWER. •■ The same day went Jesus out of the house, and sat by the sea side. And great multi- tudes were gathered together unto him, so that he went into a ship, and sat ; and the whole multitude stood on the shore. And he spake many things unto them in parables, saying, Behold, a sower went forth to sow ; and when he sowed, some seeds fell by the way side, and the fowls came and devoured them up : some fell upon stony places, where they had not much earth : and forthwith they sprung up, because they had no deepness of earth : and when the sun was up, they were scorched : and because they had no root, they withered away. And some fell among thorns ; and the thorns sprung up, and choked them : but other fell into good ground, and brought forth fruit, some an hundredfold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold. Who hath ears to hear, let him hear. Hear ye therefore the parable of the sower. When any one heareth the word of the kingdom, and understandeth it not, then cometh the wicked one, and catcheth away that which was sown in his heart This is he which received seed by the way side. But he that received the seed into stony places, the same is he that heareth the word, and anon with joy receiveth it ; yet hath he not root in himself, but dureth for a while : for when tribulation or persecution ariseth because of the word, by and by he is offended. He also that received seed among the thorns is he that heareth the word ; and the care of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, choke the word, and he becometh unfruitful. But he that received seed into the good ground is he that heareth the word, and understandeth it; which also beareth fruit, and bringeth forth, some an hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty." — Matt. xiii. 1-9, 18-23. HE parable is, in our language at least, so uni- formly associated with this name, that it would not readily be recognised under any other designation; but "The four kinds of ground" (viererlei Acker), the title which seems to be in ordinary use among the Germans, is logically more correct, inas- much as it points directly to the central idea, and expresses the distinctive characteristic. At this period a great and eager multitude followed 44 THE SOWER. the steps of Jesus and hung upon his lips. A certain divine authority, strangely combined with the tenderest human sympathy, marked his' discourses sharply off, as entirely different in kind from all that they had been accustomed to hear in the synagogue. Finding that instincts and capacities hitherto dormant in their being were awakened by his word, " the common people heard him gladly." At an earlier hour of the same day on which this parable was spoken, the circle of listeners that encompassed the Teacher had become so broad and dense, that his mother and brothers, who had come from home to speak with him, were obliged to halt on the put- skirts of the crowd, and pass their message in from mouth to mouth. In these circumstances, the Preacher's work must have been heavy, and doubtless the worker was weary. Having paused till the press slackened, he pri- vately retired to the margin of the lake, desiring probably to "rest a while;" but no sooner had he taken his seat beside the cool still water, than he was again surrounded by the anxious crowd. At once to escape the pressure and to command the audience better when he should again begin to speak, he stepped into one of the fishing- boats that floated at ease close by the beach, on the mar- gin of that tideless inland sea. From the water's edge, stretching away upward on the natural gallery formed by the sloping bank, the great congregation, with every face fixed in an attitude of eager expectancy, presented to the Preacher's eye the appearance of a ploughed field ready to receive the seed. As he opened his lips, and cast the word of life freely abroad among them, he saw, he felt, the parallel between the sowing of Nature and the sowing of Grace. Into that mould, accordingly, he threw the lesson of saving truth. Grasping the facts arid laws of THE SOWER. 45 his own material world, and wielding them with steady aim as instruments in the establishment of his spiritual kingdom, in simple yet majestic terms he said, " Behold, a sower went forth to sow." Whether a sower was actually in sight at that moment in a neighbouring field or not, every man in that rural assemblage must have been familiar with the act, and would instantly recognise the truth of the picture. The sower, with a bag of seed dependent from his shoulder, stalks slowly forth into the prepared field. With mea- sured, equal steps, he marches in a straight line along the furrow. His hand, accustomed to keep time with his advancing footsteps, and to jerk the seed forward with considerable force, in order to secure uniformity of distribu- tion, cannot suddenly stop when he approaches the hard trodden margin of the field. By habit the right hand con- tinues to execute its wonted movement in unison with the sower's steps as he is turning round ; and thus a portion of the seed is thrown on the unploughed border of the field and the public path that skirts it. Birds, scared for a moment by the presence of the man, hover in the air till his back is turned on another tack, and then, each eager to be first, come swooping down, and swallow up all the grain that found no soft place where it fell for hiding in. Even if it should happen in any case that no birds were near, the seed that fell on the way side was as surely destroyed in another way: the alternative sug- gested in Luke's narrative is, that " it is trodden under foot of men." But while the portion of the seed that fell on the way side was thus certainly destroyed, it does not follow that all the rest came to perfection : " Some fell upon stony places, where they had not much earth: and forthwith 46 THE SOWER. they sprung up, because they had no-deepness of earth : and when the sun was up they, were scorched ; and be- cause they had no root, they withered away." The stony places are not portions of the field where many separate stones may be seen lying on the surface, but portions which consist of continuous rock underneath, with a thin sprinkling of soft soil over it. Here the young plants burst through the ground sooner than in spots where the seed found a deeper bed : but when the rains of spring have ceased, and the sun of summer has waxed hot, the moisture is quickly exhaled from the shallow stratum of soil, and forthwith the fair promise dies. But yet another slip there may be " between the cup and the lip:" even from the seed that falls on deep, soft ground, you cannot count with certainty on a rich return in harvest. Although the plants should without obstruc- tion strike their roots deeply into the soft, moist earth, and rear their stalks aloft into the balmy air, they may be rendered barren at last by the simultaneous growth of rivals more imperious and more powerful than them- selves. Unless the grain not only grow in deeply broken ground, but grow alone there, it cannot be fruitful: " Some fell among thorns ; and the thorns sprung up and choked it." Besides those plants that are more correctly denominated thorns, we may include under the term here all rank weeds, varying with countries and climates, which infest the soil and hurt the harvest. The green stalks that grow among thorns are neither withered in spring, nor stunted in their summer's growth ; they may be found in harvest taller than their fruitful neighbours; but the ear is never filled, never ripened, and the reaper gets nothing in his arms but long slender straw adorned at the top with graceful clusters of empty chaff. The THE SOWER. 47 roots of the thorns (frank up the sap of the ground, while their branches veiled off the sunlight, and thus the good seed, starved beneath and overshadowed above, although it started fair in spring, produced nothing in the autumn. As Truth is one and Error manifold, so in regard to the seed sown, the story of failure is long and varied, the story of success is short and simple : " Other fell into good ground, and brought forth fruit, some an hundred- fold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold." The design of the picture is to reveal the various causes which at differ- ent times and places render the husbandman's labour abortive and leave his garner empty. This done, there is no need of more. The seed, when none of these things impeded it, prospered as a matter of course, under the ordinary care of man and the ordinary gifts of God. Three distinct obstructions to the growth and ripening of the seed are enumerated in the parable. The state- ment is exact, and the order transparent. The natural sequences are strictly and beautifully maintained. The three causes of abortion — the way side, the stony ground, and the thorns — follow each other as the spring, the sum- mer, and the autumn. In the first case the seed does not spring at all ; in the second it springs, but dies before it grows up ; in the third, it grows up, but does not ripen. If it escape the way side, the danger of the stony ground lies before it ; if it escape the stony ground, the thorns at a later stage threaten its safety ; and it is only when it has successively escaped all three that it becomes fruitful at length. In this case, the Lord himself gave both the parable and its explanation; he became his own interpreter. The Master takes us, like little children, by the hand, and leads us through all the turnings of his first symbolic 48 THE SOWER. lesson, lest in our inexperience we should miss our way. The Son of God not only gave himself as a sacrifice fof sin ; he also laboured as a patient painstaking teacher ol the ignorant: he is the Apostle as well as the High Priest of our profession. His instructions have been re- corded by the Spirit in the Scriptures for our use; we may still sit at his feet and listen to his voice. He has taken his seat on the deck of a fishing-boat while the waters of the lake are still, and is discoursing to a con- gregation of Galileans from the neighbourhood who stand clustering on the shore. Let us join the outskirts of the crowd and hear that heavenly Teacher too. He speaks in parables : he fixes saving truth in the forms of familiar things, that it may be carried away and kept. We look with lively interest on the scene which these words conjure up before our eyes; but we should look on it reverently: it has not been given to us as a plaything. Gaze gravely, brother, into this parable, for " thou art the man" of whom it speaks: it reveals the way of life and the way of death to thee. If a traveller who possesses an accurate map of his route turn aside from it and perish in a pit, it will not avail him in his extremity to reflect that he carries the correct track in his hand. Alas ! a literary admiration of the parable-stories which Jesus told in Galilee will not avail us, if we do not accept himself as our Saviour from sin. From the Lord's own exposition here and elsewhere recorded, we learn that the seed is the word of God ; that the sower is the man who makes it known to his neigh- bours; and that the ground on which the seed .falls is the hearer's heart. The main drift of the parable con- cerns the ground, and to it accordingly our attention must be chiefly directed. The lesson, however is drawn, THE SOWER. 49 not from the inherent, essential properties of the soil, but from the accidental obstructions to the growth of grain which it may in certain circumstances contain: some notice, therefore, of the seed and the sower in their spiritual signification is not only profitable at this stage, but peremptorily necessary to the full apprehension of the instruction which the parable conveys. Seed has been created by God and given to man. If it were lost, it would be impossible through human power and skill to procure a new supply: the race would, in that case, perish, unless the Omnipotent should interfere again with his creating power. For spiritual life and food the fallen are equally helpless, and equally dependent on the gift of God. The seed is the word, and the word is contained in the Scriptures. When we drop a verse of the Bible into listening ears, we are sowing the seed of the kingdom. The seed is the word, but the Word is Christ : " In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God .... and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us," (John i.) Christ is the living seed, and the Bible is the husk that holds it. The husk that holds the seed is the most precious thing in the world, next after the seed that it holds. The Lord himself pre- cisely defines from this point of view the place and value of the Scriptures, — " They are they which testify of me" (John v. 39). The seed of the kingdom is himself the King. Nor is there any inconsistency in representing Christ as the seed while he was in the first instance also the sower. Most certainly he preached the Saviour, and also was the Saviour whom he preached. The incident in the synagogue at Nazareth (Lukeiv. 16-22) is a re- markably distinct example of Christ being at once the (9) 4 5«> THE SOWER. Sower and the Seed. When he ha. 103 the Lord on another occasion, is sufficient to show that both the conception and its use were familiar to his audience. The spiritual lesson of the parable diverges into two lines, distinct but harmonious. By the kingdom of heaven, as it is represented in the growth of the mustard-plant, we may understand either saving truth living and growing great in the world, or saving truth living and growing great in an individual human heart. In both, its progress from small beginnings to great issues is like the growth of a gigantic herb from the imperceptible germ that was dropped among the clods in spring. I. The kingdom of heaven in the world is like a mus- tard-seed sown in the ground, both in the smallness of its beginning and the greatness of its increase. The first promise, given at the gate of Eden, contained the Gospel as a seed contains the tree. It fell among Adam's descendants as a mustard-seed falls between the furrows, and lay long unnoticed there. With the Lord, in the development of his kingdom, a thousand years are as one day in the growth of vegetation. A man who in his childhood observed the seed cast into the ground, may live long and die old before the plants have reached maturity; but the seed of the kingdom has not lost its life, the God of the covenant has not forgotten his own. At the appointed time he will visit his husbandry, and fill his bosom with its fruits. Never to human eye did the seed seem smaller than at the coming of Christ. The infant in the manger at Bethlehem is like a mustard-seed — an atom scarcely per- ceptible in the hand, and lost to view when it falls into the earth. Yet there lay the seed of eternal life — thence 104 THE MUSTARD-SEED. sprang the stem on which all the saved of mankind shall grow as branches. Israel was feeble among the nations — a little child writhing in the grasp of imperial Rome; Judea and Galilee, with the heathenish Samaria between, constituted his beat throughout the brief period of his public ministry. The range was short in its utmost length, narrow in its utmost breadth. In a map of the world of ordinary size, the spot that indicates Palestine can scarcely be seen ; yet from that spot radiated a power which is at this day actually paramount. The Christ who seemed so small both in private life at Nazareth and in the public judgment-hall of Pilate at Jerusalem, is greatest now both in heaven and in earth. Christendom and Christianity are both supreme, each in its own place and according to its own kind. This world already belongs to Christian nations, and the next to Christian men. So great has the religion of Jesus grown, that its body overshadows the earth, and its spirit reaches heaven. As the leaves and branches of a tree tend to assume the form and proportions of the tree itself, so subordinate parts in the development of God's kingdom follow more or less closely the law of the whole kingdom — a progress secret, slow, and sure, from a diminutive beginning to an unexpected and amazing greatness. Take, for example, the history of Moses, which is a vigorous branch shooting out from the mustard-tree under the ancient dispensation. The branch, a part of the tree, is, like the tree itself, small at first and great at last. A poor Hebrew slave-mother, counting her own " a goodly child," as every true mother will to the end of time, strove, by a strange mixture of ingenuity and desperation, to preserve him from the cruel executioners of Pharaoh. When she could no longer hide him in the house, she laid him in a wicker basket THE MUSTARD-SEED. 105 and set it afloat in an eddy of the Nile. How small the seed seemed that day! A slave's man-child, one of many thousands destined by their jealous owners to destruc- tion, cast by his own mother into the river, that he might not fall into the more dreaded hands of man — how small that germ was, and yet how great it grew! From heaven the word had gone forth, " Destroy it not, for a blessing is in it." On the mighty stream, and the cruel, men who frequented it, the Maker of them both had laid the com- mand, Touch not mine anointed, and do my prophet no harm. From that small seed, accordingly, sprang the greatest tree that grew in those old days upon the earth. Moses, the terror of Pharaoh, the scourge of Egypt, the leader of the Exodus, the lawgiver of Israel — Moses in his manhood was to the foundling infant what the tower- ing tree is to the imperceptible seed from which it springs. The operation of the same law may be observed in later ages. In the Popish convent at Erfurt a studious young monk sits alone in his cell, earnestly examining an ancient record. The student is Luther, and the book the Bible. He has read many books before, but. his reading had never made him wretched till now. In other books he saw other people; but in this book for the first time he saw himself. His own sin, when conscience was quick- ened and enlightened to discern it, became a burden heavier than he could bear. For a time he was in a horror of great darkness; but when at last he found " the right- eousness which is of God by faith," he grew hopeful, happy, and strong. Here is a living seed, but it is very small: an awakened, exercised, conscientious, believing monk, is an imperceptible atom which superstitious multitudes, and despotic princes, and a persecuting priesthood will over- lay and smother, as the heavy furrow covers the micro- 106 THE MUSTARD-SEED. scopic mustard-seed. But the living seed burst, and sprang, and pierced through all these coverings. How great it grew and how far it spread history tells to-day. We have cause to thank God for the greatness of the Reformation, and to rebuke ourselves for its smallness. Through the grace of God it made rapid progress at the first, and by the passions of men it was arrested be- fore its work was done ; — not arrested, but impeded ; it is growing still, and growing more vigorously in our own day than it has done in any generation since its youth. But the present time supplies examples of the king- dom's growth from small to great, as distinct and charac- teristic as any period since the apostles' days. The revivals of these times are vigorous off-shoots from the great stem of Christ's kingdom in the world, and the part observes the same law of increase that operates in the whole. Trace any one of the local awakenings back to its source, and you will discover that the interest in spiritual, personal religion, which now overtops and over- shadows all other interests in the neighbourhood — which has led many wanderers back to Christ's fold — which has caused friends to sing aloud for joy, and enemies to stand mute in astonishment — which has emptied jails and filled prayer-meetings — which has changed the wilderness into a garden, and drawn wondering witnesses from distant lands — sprang from some upper or lower room in which two or three unnoticed and unknown believers were wont to meet at stated times for prayer. Many of those small but living seeds have burst through the ground and made themselves known by their magnitude ; and many similar seeds are lying hid to-day under the capacious folds of our vast and earnest industry. May great trees spring from these small seeds in the Lord's good time! THE MUSTARD-SEED. 107 Robert Haldane in Geneva, with his Bible in his hand and a group of students around him, is a modern example of the same law in the growth of the kingdom. II. The kingdom of heaven in a human heart is like a mustard-seed, both in the smallness of its beginning and the greatness of its increase. In the grand design of God, moral qualities hold the first place ; physical magnitude is subordinate and instrumental. We may safely accom- modate and apply to space the principle which the Scrip- ture expressly applies to time: One man — as a sphere on which his purposes may be accomplished and his glory displayed — one man is with the Lord as a thousand worlds, and a thousand worlds as one man. There is room, brother, for the whole kingdom of God "within you." In one sense, it is most true, we ought to abase, but in another we ought to exalt ourselves. We should reverence ourselves as the most wonderful work of God within the sphere of our observation. The King, as well as the kingdom, finds room in a regenerated man. Here the Lord of glory best loves to dwell. In this inner and smaller, as well as in the outer and larger sphere, the kingdom of heaven, following the law of the mustard-plant, grows from the least to the greatest. All life, indeed, is, in its origin, invisible; and the new life of faith is not an exception to the rule. The Lord him- self, in the lesson which he taught to Nicodemus, compared it in this respect to the wind. In its origin it is imper- ceptible; in its results it is manifest and great. To wash seven times in Jordan seemed a small thing to the Syrian soldier, and such it really was ; but when his leprosy was cleansed, and his flesh restored like that of a little child, he perceived that a great effect had sprung from simple ro8 THE MUSTARD-SEED. means. The little-child look unto Jesus which the Gospel prescribes for the saving of the soul seems to the wisdom of this world as inadequate to heal a leprosy as the waters of the Jordan seemed to Naaman; yet from that small seed springs the tree of life, with all its beau- tiful blossoms of hope, and all its precious fruits of righteousness. The first true, deep check in the conscience because of sin ; the first real question, " What must I do to be saved?" the first tender grief for having crucified Christ and grieved the Spirit ; the first request for pardon and reconciliation made to God, as a child asks bread from his parents when he is hungry; — the kingdom, coming in any of these forms is small and scarcely perceptible ; but it lives, and in due time will grow great. Be of good cheer, ye who have felt the word swelling and bursting like a seed in your hearts. That plant may not yet have attained maturity in your life, but greater is He who shields it than all who assail it : the enemy cannot in the end prevail. He who hath begun a good work in you, will perfect it until the day of Christ. You could not make a living seed ; but God has given it. Thus far all is well, but you are as helpless at the second stage as you were at the first; you have no more power to make the seed grow than you had to make the seed. The Author and Finisher of this work keeps it from first to last in his own hands. It is He who gives rain from heaven and fruitful seasons. The small seed of the kingdom has fallen on your hearts, and been hidden in their folds; it has taken root, and sent up into your lives some tender shoots of faith, and hope, and love. It is well ; thank God for the past, and take courage for the coming time. The plant is small now; it will be great hereafter. It is small THE MUSTARD-SEED. 1 09 on earth ; it will be great in heaven. Weed it and water it, sun it and shelter it. Be diligent on your own side of this great business, and God will not withhold his power. Cultivate the kingdom in your own hearts, and count on the blessing from on high to make it prosper. From the tender, diminutive life of grace, the life of glory will in due time grow. When painters have drawn their figures in light, they throw in dark shadows beside them, that the positive forms may thereby be more prominently displayed. So, beside the kingdom of heaven, under the aspect of its growth from small beginnings, let us throw in the outline of the kingdom of darkness, that thereby the glory of light may be better seen. Although one kingdom differs from another in charac- ter and aim, all kingdoms are like each other in the method of their operation. The kingdom of darkness, like the kingdom of light, grows gradually from very small to very great. The kingdom of Satan hangs on and fol- lows Christ's kingdom like a dark shadow, and the shadow depends upon the light. The first sin against God was a very small seed, but the tree which sprang from it was the fall of man. " Thou shalt not eat," is a small point — its smallness has sometimes supplied unbe- lievers with wit, if not with argument — but on that point a door was hung, which, turned this way, opened heaven and shut hell; turned that way, opened hell and shut heaven. In its beginning the kingdom of evil was small ; but from that small seed a mighty tree has grown.* * " Good is like the mustard-seed ; from small it becomes great : evil resembles it not less. Here, too, the great springs from the small. An evil thought, when once it has made its way into a poor soul, may beconw mighty enough to cast it into hell." — Draseke vom Reich Gottes, ii. 238. no THE MUSTARD-SEED. As there is no sin so great that the blood of Christ cannot blot it out, so there is no sin so small that it cannot destroy a soul. A little sin is like a little fire : stand in awe of the spark, and rest not till it is quenched. As Christ our Lord is tenderly careful of spiritual life when it is feeble, and cherishes it into strength, we should sternly stamp out evil while it is yet young in our own hearts, lest it spread like a fire. He will not quench the smoking flax of beginning grace, and we should quench with all our might the smoking flax of sin. He com- manded the Church in Sardis to "be watchful, and strengthen the things which remain, that are ready to die" (Rev. iii. 2). The counterpart and complement of that command is binding, too, upon his disciples : Be watchful, and weaken — if possible, kill outright — the germs of evil that are springing from unseen seeds within your own heart and around you in the world. " The God of peace will bruise Satan under your feet shortly:" He will bruise Satan, but Satan must be bruised under your feet. IV. THE LEAVEN. * Another parable spake he unto them ; The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a woman took, arid hid in three measures of meal, till the whole was leavened*" — -Matt. xiii. 33. jlN the mustard -seed we saw the kingdom growing great by its inherent vitality ; in the leaven we see it growing great by a contagious influence. There, the, increase was attained by develop- ment from within; here, by acquisitions from without. It is not that there are two distinct ways in which the Gospel may gain complete possession of a man, or Chris- tianity gain complete possession of the world ; but that the one way in which the work advances is character- ized by both these features, and consequently two pictures are required to exhibit both sides of the same thing. / The thought which is peculiar to this parable, the spe- cific lesson which it teaches, is, the power of the Gospel, acting like contagion, to penetrate, assimilate, and absorb the world in which it lies. The kingdom grows great by permeating in secret through the masses, changing them gradually into its own nature, and appropriating them to itself. The material frame-work which contains the spiritual lesson here is, in its main features, easily understood. Immediately below the surface, indeed, lie some hard 112 THE LEAVEN. questions ; but all that is necessary is easy, and the dis- cussion of difficulties, although it may well repay the labour, is by no means essential. The chief use of leaven in the preparation of bread is, as I understand, to produce a mechanical effect. A cer- tain chemical change is caused in the first instance by fermentation in the nature of the fermented substance, and for the sake of that change the process is in certain other manufactures introduced; but along with the che- mical change which takes place in the nature of the sub- stance, a mechanical change is also effected in its form, and for the sake of this latter and secondary result fermentation is resorted to in the baking of bread. The moist, soft, yet dense mass of dough, is by fermentation thrown into the form of a sponge Owing to the consistence of the mate- rial, the openings made by the ferment remain open, and consequently the lump, which would otherwise have been solid, is penetrated in every direction by an innumerable multitude of small cavities. Through these the heat in the oven obtains equal access to every portion of the dough ; and thus, though the loaf is of considerable thick- ness, it is not left raw in the heart. Other methods, essentially different from fermentation, are in modern practice adopted in the preparation of bread ; but by whatever means channels may be opened for the admis- sion of heat to every particle of the dough, the result is practically the same as that which is obtained by leaven- ing. The operator converts the mass of solid dough into swollen, light, porous, spongy leaven, by introducing into it a small quantity of matter already in a state of fermen- tation. It is the nature of that substance or principle to infect the portion that lies next it; and thus, if the con- tiguous matter be a susceptible conductor like moistened THE LEAVEN. 113 flour, it spreads until it has converted the whole mass. The knowledge of this process is not so universal amongst us as it was then in Galilee, or is still in many countries, because baking by fermentation, especially in the northern division of the island, is not much practised in private families. In countries where bread is prepared by that method, and every family prepares its own, the process is, of course, universally familiar. The three measures of meal, which together make an ephah, were the understood quantity of an ordinary batch in the economics of a family, and as such are several times incidentally mentioned in the Scriptures of the Old Testament. See, for example, the preparation of bread by Sarah, as it is narrated in Gen. xviii. The various suggestions which inquirers have made regarding the specific significance of the three measures of meal, are interesting and instructive. As they do not directly tra- verse the lines of the analogy, they are entitled to a respectful hearing; but the subject is subordinate, and the meaning must ever be comparatively obscure. Whether the three measures are understood to point to the three continents of the world then known, or to the three sons of Noah by whom the world was peopled, or to spirit, soul, and body, the constituent elements of human nature, an interesting and useful conception is obtained. Each of these suggestions contains a truth, and that, too, a truth which is germane to the main lesson of the parable. The same historic incidents which show that three measures were the ordinary quantity, show also that the women of the house were the ordinary operators. Baking the bread of the household was accounted women's work ; as men ploughed and sowed in the field, women kneaded and baked at the oven. An inversion of this order would (9) „ H4 THE LEAVEN. have been noticed as incongruous, and presented a diffi- culty. Exceptions may be found, both in ancient and modern times, but the representation in the text pro- ceeds obviously upon the ordinary habits of society. On this account, although I willingly listen to interesting and ingenious speculations regarding the significance of the woman who hid the leaven among the meal, I cannot accept them as the foundation of any positive doctrine. I am jealous, not without cause, of ecclesiastical tenden- cies and prepossessions in the interpretation of the parables. It is quite true that both in the discourses of the Lord and in the epistles of his followers, reference is made sometimes to the community or communities of believers constituted as a Church ; but the Church in the Scriptures is a much simpler affair than it is in ecclesias- tical history. Moreover, in these lessons which were taught by the Lord in the beginning of the Gospel, we find much about the individual man, and about the aggregate of mankind, but little about the Church in its visible organization. Accordingly, while I endeavour to keep my mind open for everything that the Scriptures bring to the Church, I am disposed to shut the door hard against anything that I suspect the Church is bringing to the Scriptures. When the woman who kneaded the dough, and the woman who lost and found the silver coin, come forward, backed by much learned authority, saying, We are the Church, I stand on my guard against deception, and carefully examine their credentials. A man took the mustard-seed and sowed it in his field ; a woman took the leaven and hid it in three measures of meal. The two parables are in this respect strictly parallel ; in both alike an ordinary act in rural economy is performed, and in either it is performed by a person of THE LEA VEN. 1 1 5 the appropriate sex. The converse would have been startling and inexplicable. Whatever the operator may represent in the sowing of the seed, the operator in the hiding of the leaven represents the same. To neglect the strict parallelism between the two cases, and attribute some meaning to the selection of a woman as the operator in the one, which the selection of a man in the other does not convey, is, as I apprehend the matter, to forsake the main track of the analogy, and follow by-paths which lead to no useful result. The same divine hand that dropped the word of eternal life as a mustard-seed into the ground, also hid the Word of eternal life as leaven in the ephah of flour. Looking to the spiritual significance of the two parables, we have in both cases the same act, and in both cases, therefore, the same actor.* A question of deep interest and considerable difficulty arises from the fact that here, and here only, the greatest good — the kingdom of God in the world — is unequivocally compared to leaven, whereas this similitude, in all other places of Scripture where it occurs, either stands inde- finitely for progress of any kind, or expressly represents the energy of evil. I assume without argument that in this parable the diffusion of leaven through the mass re- presents the diffusion of good in the world, although here and there, both in ancient and modern times, an inquirer appears who understands the leaven in this place to predict the prevalence of false doctrines and practices in the Church. This interpretation no man would volun- tarily adopt in the first instance, for it is obviously incon- gruous with the signification of the kingdom in every other parable of the group ; but some have permitted * To the question what the woman specially represents in the parable, DrSseke answers, " The grace of God." — ii. 263. Il6 THE LEAVEN. themselves to be driven into it by a difficulty that threatens on the opposite side. Because in other portions of Scripture they find leaven employed as an emblem of evil, they think themselves obliged to take it as a repre- sentative of evil here. But the difficulty which is pre- sented by the use of a type to denote good, which is else- where employed to denote evil, must be fairly met and explained: to escape an imaginary difficulty we must not plunge into a real mistake. I am convinced that here, as in many similar cases, that which at first sight and on the surface wears the appearance of harshness, will be found, on fuller consideration, to contain a new beauty, and impart additional power. It is obvious, in the first place, from the references made to it both by the Lord and his apostles, and especially from the iteration of the same maxim by Paul in two distinct epistles, that the similitude was current and familiar among the people as a proverb. It is con- ceded, that apart from this parable, wherever its applica- tion is expressly indicated, it is employed to designate the progress of evil; but it ought to be borne in mind that Paul has twice, in the same words, enunciated the universal proposition, " A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump" (i Cor. v. 6; Gal. v. 9). By expressly mentioning the leaven of malice and wickedness in connection with this proposition, he leaves room for the supposition that there may be also a leaven of truth and holiness. In like manner, the Lord in another place warns his followers to beware of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy; but he nowhere says that leaven is hypocrisy. Leaven does, indeed, illustrate the method in which falsehood spreads; but it may, for aught that is said in the Scrip- tures, illustrate also the manner in which truth advances, THE LEAVEN 117 when it has gotten a footing in the world or in a man. If truth and error, though opposite in their nature, are like each other in their tendency to advance, as if by con- tagion ; and if error- is in this respect like leaven, then truth must be in this respect like leaven too. When two things are in a certain aspect like each other, and one of them is in the same aspect like a third thing, the other must also be like that third thing, provided the point of view remain unchanged. Leaven represents evil not in its nature, but only in the manner of its progress ; and in this respect the symbol is equally applicable to the oppo- site good. This argument, indeed, may be carried one step further. It is not enough to show that no loss of meaning is sus- tained by the application of th;s analogy to a new and opposite class of facts ; a positive gain thereby accrues. The circumstance that in all other places of Scripture in which the symbolical meaning of leaven is specifically ap- plied, it is, in point of fact, employed to designate the pro- gress of evil, instead of obscuring, rather reflects additional light on the comparison as it is used in this parable. The Teacher who speaks here is sovereign. By him the worlds were made, and by him redemption wrought. In both departments he executes his own will : when he speaks, he speaks with authority. Observing that the principle which ordinarily enters and pervades human hearts is evil, a leaven of hypocrisy, he does not submit to that state of things as necessary and permanent : this is, indeed, the condition of the world ; but he has come to change it. Such is the direction of the current, and the proverb which compares moral evil to a leaven correctly describes its insinuating and persevering course ; but here is one who has power to turn the river of water so that it Ii8 THE LEAVEN. shall flow backward to its source. Corruption has, indeed, spread through the world as leaven spreads through the dough, but here is Truth incarnate, another leaven, intro- duced into the mass, having power to saturate all with good, and thereby ultimately to cast forth evil from the world. The kingdom of darkness, for example, comes secretly, — the wiles of the devil constitute his policy and secure his success ; the kingdom of God, although oppo- site in essence, is similar in the method of its advance, for it " cometh not with observation." The wheat and the darnel were opposite in character and consequences as light and darkness, but they were precisely alike in the manner of their growth. The loyal army adopts the same tactics which the rebels employ, while it strives to defend the throne which they are leagued to overthrow. Thus, it is not enough to say that although the diffusion of evil in God's intelligent creatures is like the diffusion of leaven in the dough, Jesus may notwithstanding employ the same analogy to indicate how grace grows : we may pro- ceed further and affirm, as Stier has ingeniously suggested, that because evil has often been compared to leaven in the manner of its advance, Jesus adopts that similitude to illustrate the aggressive, pervasive power of the truth. Boldly, as a sovereign may, this Teacher seizes a proverb which was current as an exponent of the adversaries' successful stratagems, and stamps the metal with the image and superscription of the rightful King. The evil spreads like leaven ; you tremble before its stealthy ad- vance and relentless grasp : but be of good cheer, disciples of Jesus, greater is He that is for you than all that are against you ; the word of life which has been hidden in the world, hidden in believing hearts, is a leaven too. The unction of the Holy One is more subtle and pene- THE LEAVEN. 119 trating and subduing than sin and Satan. Where sin abounded grace shall much more abound. The appropriation by Christ and to his kingdom of a similitude which had previously been applied in an oppo- site sense may be illustrated by many parallel examples in the Scriptures.* Of these, as far as I know, the different and opposite figurative significations of the serpent are the most striking and appropriate. The conception of secret motion, followed in due time by a surely planted effectual stroke, which is associated with the faculties and habits of a serpent, Christ found appropriated as a type to express the power of evil : but he did not permit it to remain so appropriated; he spoiled the Egyptian of this jewel, and in as far as it possessed value, enriched with it his own Israel. The serpent, as a metaphor, was in prac- tice as completely thirled to the indication of evil as leaven had been, but Jesus counselled his disciples to " be wise as serpents." A similar example occurs in the parable of the unjust steward: it teaches that the skill of the wicked in doing evil should be imitated by Christians in doing good. Christ acts as king and conqueror. He strips the slain enemy of his sharpest weapons, and there- with girds his own faithful followers. Whatever wisdom and power, may have been employed against them, wis- dom and power inconceivably greater are wielded on their side. We shall be better prepared to appreciate for practical purposes the peculiar meaning which the symbol bears in this parable if we advert, in the first place, to its ordinary meaning in other parts of Scripture. Both in the typical * "Thus in different passages the lion is used as a figure of Satan, but also of Christ ; the serpent as a figure of the enemy, but also of the wisdom needful to the apostles ; birds as a figure of believing trustfulness, but also of the devil catching away the word."— Lange in loc. ISO THE LEAVEN. worship of the Old Testament and in the doctrinal teaching of the New, leaven is ordinarily employed to denote the in- sinuating, contagious advance of sin. When the Hebrews were instructed to cast all leaven out of their houses during the solemnities of the Passover, their lawgiver meant to teach them by type that in worshipping God through his ordinances they should cast all malice and wickedness out of their hearts. In like manner, when the great Teacher warned his followers to beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and of the Sadducees, he meant that they should eschew on the one hand the lie of self-righteous superstition, and on the other the lie of libertine unbelief. The Apostle Paul, too, while he does not forbid another use, employs the conception, in point of fact,, to illustrate the presence and power of sin. Evil is a mysterious, self-propagating principle, like leaven. In the fact of the fall a piece of this leaven was hidden in the mass, and all mankind have consequently become corrupted. The leaven of sin that touched humanity at the first has infected the whole. The fact of a universal corruption appears in all history, and its origin is explained in the beginning of Genesis. The whole lump has been leavened : break off a bit at any place, at any time, and you will find it tainted. " The innocence of childhood" is a fond, false phrase, employed to conceal the terrible reality: there is no innocence, no purity, except that which comes through the gift of God, the sacrifice of Christ, and the ministry of the Spirit. Idolatry, for example, is a leaven that must have been small in its beginning, but at a very early date it had grown great. The world was idolatrous when Abraham was called out to become the nucleus of a religious nation ; and even his descendants, though constituted as a com- THE LEAVEN. I2» monwealth expressly for the purpose of maintaining the worship of the true God while all the world beside had sunk into idolatry, were, through contact with the conta- minating leaven, frequently overrun by the same sin. It became necessary that they should be poured from vessel to vessel, and tried as by fire, in order to keep them separate. Small and apparently harmless Popery began : with the power and perseverance of a principle in nature it spread and denied the Church. How completely that leaven penetrated the lump may be seen everywhere throughout Europe, in the architecture, sculpture, paintings, — in the laws, habits, and language that have come down from the middle ages to our own day. The evil spirit of the Papacy has intruded into every place ; into the councils of kings, into the laws of nations, into the births, marriages, and deaths of the people. Between ruler and subject, between husband and wife, between parent and child, comes the priest, gliding in like water through seamy walls, sapping their foundations. Into the inmost heart of maid, wife, mother, creeps the confessional, tainting, souring, defiling society in its springs, — a leaven of malice and wickedness, a leaven at once of Pharisee and Sadducee, a superstition that believes everything in alliance with a scepticism that believes nothing, and all combined to conceal the salva- tion of God and enslave the spirits of men. Beware of the leaven of the Papacy. Other things of grosser and more material mould follow the law of leaven in their progress from small to great, until they obtain the mastery of a community or a man. Such, for example, are the use of ardent spirits in Scot- land and the use of opium in China. A hundred years ago how small was either bit! but being a bit of leaven, when 122 THE LEAVEN. it is once introduced it creeps stealthily forward, the appetite growing by what it feeds on, until it dominates, and in some cases utterly destroys. These creeping leavens stain the beauty and waste the strength of nations. Some tribes of Indians in North America have been an- nihilated mainly by this process; and at this day the Canadian Parliament, through a benevolent law, sanc- tioned by the Sovereign, entirely prohibit the sale of spirits to the Indians, and thus save from extinction the remnants of the tribes that live under our protection. Those subtile and powerful material agents which create abnormal appetites and influence the moral habits of a whole people, afford ample room for gravest thought both to Christians and patriots. The fact acknowledged in Scripture, and manifest in all experience, that evil has transfused itself through humanity like leaven, serves to bring out in deeper relief the comforting converse truth which Christ has embodied in this parable. The universal diffusion of corruption in the world becomes a dark ground whereon the Lord may more vividly portray the progress and final triumph of holiness. Good introduced among the good is not much noticed ; but when good assails, overcomes, and transforms evil, its power and beauty are conspicuously displayed. Employing the sad facts already stated as shadows filled in to make the lines of light more visible, I shall proceed now to express and enforce positively some of the prac- tical lessons which the parable contains. I. Christ, the Son of God, became man and dwelt among us. Behold the piece of leaven that has been plunged into the dead mass of the world ! " In him was life, and the life was the light of men" (John i. 4). The whole is not leavened yet, but the germ has been introduced. The THE LEAVEN, 123 meaning of Immanuel is, " God with us :" the incarna- tion is the link that binds the fallen to the throne of God. One without sin and with omnipotence has become our brother, — has taken hold of our nature, and will keep hold of it to the end. He will not fail nor be discouraged To him every knee shall bow, and every tongue confess: the prophecy has been written, and the history will follow. In the meantime, while we wait for the accomplishment of the promise, we may obtain from this parable some glimpses of the method by which the change will be effected at last. Leaven consists in, or at least causes, fermentation. The name suggests the mechanical process of boiling. The most sublime and awful scenes which nature has ever presented have been produced in this way. When great masses are affected, a boiling becomes unspeakably grand and terrible. This earth, now so solid beneath, and so green on the surface, seems to have been once a boiling mass. Those mountains that cleave the clouds are the bubbles that rose to the surface and were con- gealed ere they had time to subside again: there they stand to-day, monuments of the fact. The moral govern- ment of God is like the natural. The Maker's method, when he would bring down the high things and exalt the low, is to throw in an ingredient which will produce fer- mentation. He can make the world of spirit fervid as well as this material globe. The earth is shaken by moral causes. The Gospel sends a sword before it brings peace. Wars and rumours of wars rend the nations, and make men's hearts melt within their breasts. In some cases it is obviously Christian truth plunged into the mass that agitates the nations; and if we were able to discern the links of cause and effect a few degrees further »*4 THE LEAVEN. into the fringes of the cloud that encircles God's throne. we would perhaps see the same central fact setting in motion more distant forces. Our life is so short, and our range of vision so contracted, that we cannot observe the progress which the kingdom makes. Sometimes, and in some places, ft seems to recede ; but when the end comes it will be seen that every step of apparent retreat was the couching in preparation for another spring. The kingdoms of this world shall become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ. The captive's chains shall be broken, whether they bind more directly the body or the soul, although the ancient political organizations of Europe, and the more recent fabrics of America, should be torn asun- der and tossed away in the process, as foam is tossed from the crest of a wave upon the shore. " Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron ; thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel. Be wise now therefore, O ye kings ; be instructed, ye judges of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all they that put their trust in him" (Ps. ii. 9-12). 2. Converted men, women, and children are let into openings of corrupt humanity, and hidden in its heart. There they cannot lie still: they stir, and effervesce, and inoculate the portions with which they are in closest contact. In this respect the lesson is the same with that which is taught in those other short parables of Jesus, — " Ye are the light of the world. Ye are the salt of the earth." Nor is the conception essentially different from that of Christ or his word dropped into the lump of humanity ; for Christians have no life and no expansive power, except THE LEAVEN. 125 in as far as Christ dwells in their hearts by faith. They are vessels which contain the truth, and when these vessels are hidden under the folds of families and larger com< munities, the word of life, which is within them, touches and tells upon their neighbours. The most recent experience of the Church exhibits the kingdom spreading like leaven, as vividly, perhaps, as any experience since apostolic times. By contact with one soul, already fervid with new life, other souls, hitherto dead, become fervid too. One sinner saved, his heart burning within his breast, as he consciously communes with his Saviour, touches a meeting and sets it all aglow; the prayer-meeting thus moved touches the congregation and throws its settled lees into an unwonted and violent commotion ; this assembly, all throbbing with the cry, What must we do to be saved ? infects a city ; and the city so infected communicates its fervour to the land ; and a nation thus on fire kindles another by its far-reaching sympathy beyond intervening seas. Thus some portions of the world have been thrown into such a state of effer- vescence, by the leaven of the Gospel hidden in their heart, that for a time the sound of praise for sin forgiven has risen in the highways and market-places, louder than that other old, strong cry, What shall we eat, and what shall we drink, and wherewithal shall we be clothed ? The leaven, like gravitation, follows the same law on smaller spheres that it follows on the larger. Brother infects sister, and sister brother ; parent child, and child parent ; shopman shopmate. We often lament the con- tagious influence of evil, and it is right that we should ; but it is an unthankful, unhopeful spirit, that thinks and speaks of the dark side only. Oh, thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt ? The new life which Christ 126 THE LEAVEN. has brought into the world is a leaven too. Working on the same method, but backed by a mightier power, good will yet overcome evil, — life will destroy death. Life from the Lord and in the Lord, though small at first as to the number of persons whom it animates, will increase until it fill the world. It will absorb surrounding death, and in absorbing quicken it. He that sat upon the throne said, " Behold, I make all things new " (Rev. xxi. 5). 3. There is yet another branch of the practical lesson which ought not to be overlooked : The life of faith, when it is hidden in the heart, spreads like leaven through the man, occupying and assimilating all the faculties of his nature and all the course of his life. The Whole lump of the individual must be leavened, as well as the whole lump of the world. Christ will not be satisfied until he get every man in the world for his own, and every part of each. Whatever amount of ground there may be for the judg- ment of some expositors that the three measures of meal in the parable represent spirit, soul, and body, the con- stituents of human nature, certain it is that if the leaven of the kingdom is deposited in the heart, it will not cease until it has interpenetrated the human trinity and con- formed all to the likeness of Christ. In the new creature, as in the new world, " dwelleth righteousness." That which is now laid on the conscience of Christians as a law will yet emerge from their life as a fact, — " Whether there- fore ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God." From a circumstance not expressly mentioned in the parable, but obviously contained in the nature of the case, springs a thought of tender and solemn import. The piece of leaven was hid in the meal, and the whole THE LEAVEN. 12 7 quantity, in consequence, was converted into leaven ; but the leaven will not spread through meal that is dry,; the meal is not susceptible, receptive, until it is saturated with water. Within some persons, some families, some congrega- tions, some communities, the leaven of truth has been deposited for a long time, and yet they are not moved, they are not changed. The leaven remains as it came, a stranger ; all around, notwithstanding its presence, is still, is dead. It is when the Spirit is poured out as floods that the leaven of the kingdom spreads with quicken- ing, assimilating power. I will pour out my Spirit upon you, saith the Lord : the promise is sent to generate the prayer, as a sound calls forth an echo. Behold, I come quickly, says Christ : Even so, come, Lord Jesus, respond Christians. Catch the promise as it falls, and send it back like an echo to heaven. I will pour out my Spirit upon you : Pour out thy Spirit, Lord, on us, as floods on the dry ground ; so shall the word already lying in our Bibles and our memories run and be glorified in our life and through our land. V. THE HIDDEN TREASURE. ' Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto treasure hid in a field ; the which when a man hath found, he hideth, and for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that field." — Matt, xiii, 44. j]HESE two parables, the hidden treasure and the costly pearl, are even more closely allied to each other than the two which precede them. Generically they teach the same truth ; but they teach it with distinct specific differences. It will be most convenient to notice in connection with the first, the lessons that are common to both ; and in connection with the second, the points of distinction between them. These twin parables, then, exhibit on the one hand the intrinsic preciousness of the Gospel, and on the other the high esteem in which that precious thing is held by a spiritually quickened man. They set forth first how valuable the kingdom of God is, and next how much it is valued by those who know its worth. These two, along with the concluding representation of the general judgment, were spoken, not to the multitude on the shore of the lake, but more privately to a smaller audience in a neighbouring dwelling. Many expositors believe that they can discern a difference in the nature and treatment of the subjects between the first four and the last three, corresponding to the different circumstances THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 129 in which the two portions of the group were severally delivered. It is thought that those which were addressed to the multitude in public represent the kingdom in its more general and external aspects, as was suitable in a miscellaneous audience ; while those which were addressed privately to the circle of disciples represent the kingdom more especially in its intrinsic nature and individual, per- sonal application. I would not presume to affirm that there- is no ground for this distinction ; but I think it is a mistake to make it the hinge on which our view of the whole group must turn. I suspect there are things in the parable of the sower which require, for their ap- preciation, the faith and experience of true disciples, as much as anything that the parable of the hidden treasure contains ; and, on the other hand, that the lessons sug- gested by the treasure were as necessary and appropriate . to the mixed multitude as those which are taught by the sowing of the seed on different kinds of ground. The , necessity of personal appreciation and acceptance of the 1 Gospel, which is the main lesson of this parable spoken privately in the house, is pre-eminently a word in season to those that are without. That lesson, accordingly, the Lord and his apostles were wont to teach in promiscuous assemblies. While, therefore, I notice the fact that the three later similitudes of this group were given to a smaller circle after the crowd had dispersed, I am not able to say that the reason of the change is evident in the nature of the subjects. Had these three also been spoken from the fishing-boat to the promiscuous assemblage on shore, I would not have been able to affirm that the themes seemed less appropriate to the audience, or less in accord- , ance with the Teacher's method at other times. I look with interest into the distinctions which some have drawn (9) 9 130 THE HIDDEN TREASURE. between the four exoteric parables addressed to a miscel- laneous assembly, and the three esoteric parables spoken to a more select and more sympathizing few ; but to me they do not appear to be of substantial importance in the in- terpretation. The treasure may have been gold or silver or precious stones, or a combination of all three : it may have been anything of great value that lies in small bulk, and is not liable to decay, — such a treasure as may lie buried under the earth for a long period without any diminution of its worth. In oriental countries and in ancient times treasures were hid in the ground more frequently than in our land and our day ; but it is probable that even there and then the subterranean wealth was tenfold greater in the popular belief than it was in reality. Two distinct causes, or classes of causes, lead to the con- cealment of treasure under ground : the feeble bury their wealth when they are oppressed, and the guilty when they are scared. As a general rule, we may assume that the treasure which is found buried in the earth has been placed, there either by honest men when the law was feeble, or by dishonest men when the law was strong. The two classes of persons who bury gold are the robbed and the robbers. In both cases, the treasure which is intentionally and intelligently buried is liable to be lost through the removal or death of those who were in the secret. Such secreted and lost wealth is afterwards from time to time found by those who build houses or cultivate the soil. In all lands and ages some such hoards have been actually discovered, and many such have been imagined and expected by the credulous. The conditions of the treasure that may be buried under ground exist in substances widely different THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 131 from gold and silver and precious stones. On the west coast of Scotland, a few years ago, some men, while en- gaged in digging fuel from a moss, found at a great depth large quantities of tallow carefully sewed up in raw ox- hides, and in good preservation. In troubled, lawless times, a clan had ravaged their neighbour's territory : not having had time to drive away the cattle, they had buried the only portion of the spoil that could be preserved, in- tending to return when the danger was past and carry it away. The opportunity of realizing the booty had never occurred, and the clansmen had carried the secret with themselves to the grave. In modern times, treasures a thousand-fold more valu- able than any that have ever been hidden by human hands are frequently discovered under the earth, and wealth correspondingly great obtained by purchasing the field in which they lie, The much disputed and now celebrated mineral at Torbanehill, near Bathgate, in the county of Linlithgow, affords a good example. A person discovered that a coal or other mineral substance of great value lay in the ground. Without revealing, perhaps not knowing to the full extent the value of his discovery, he forthwith concluded, not precisely a purchase, but a long lease of the ground for mining purposes. When his bargain was securely made, he began to bring up the precious substance. As a raw material for the manufac- ture of gas and oil, it was found precious beyond all pre- cedent. The original proprietor then raised an action for the dissolution of the lease. The action has been several times renewed in various forms, and its fame has resounded through all Europe. Meantime the prudent discoverer of the treasure and purchaser of the field is reaping a rich harvest from his transaction. I 3 2 THE HIDDEN TREASURE. In North America, both in the States and in Canada, similar facts have often of late years emerged, especially in connection with oil springs and copper mines. Some men have obtained enormous wealth by purchasing for a small price a piece of ground in which a seam of copper lay, and selling it again when the fact was verified. A question has been raised and discussed at greater length, I think, than its importance warrants, regarding the conduct of the man who found the treasure and hid it again till he had secured the field — whether the act was fair or unfair. The parables of the Lord are allowed to flow like a mountain stream in its natural channel. In those at least that are metaphorical, the narrative does not undertake to prescribe what should be, but to represent what is probable in human history. The fact as narrated may or may not be an example worthy of imitation.* The moral lesson is found, not by looking directly at the story, but by looking at the shadow which the material case projects on the spiritual sphere. The conduct of the person in the picture may be good, bad, or indifferent ; the spiritual lesson is not affected by the moral character of the act which is employed as a leaden type to make it visible. As the lesson on a printed page is not affected by the baseness or the pureness of the metal which constituted the type, provided always that the form of the type were appropriate ; so the doctrine left for us after the parabolic picture has passed is not dependent for its purity on the material of which the type was formed. The shifty dishonest factor, and the in- * It is otherwise, of course^ in those that are directly moral, as the Good Samaritan; they are not metaphors to be translated, but examples to be imitated THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 1 33 dolent unrighteous judge of subsequent parables, occur as conspicuous examples. The picture is obviously true to nature. When a man became aware that a great treasure lay under ground at a certain spot, he concealed his knowledge of the fact, and took measures to obtain possession of the field. Believing that this hidden wealth was greater far than all that he possessed in the world, or could ever hope • to acquire by the ordinary produce of his property, he sold all that he had without a grudge, in order to make sure of the prize. The love of his own possessions, whether hereditary or acquired, whether lands or money, was overbalanced and so destroyed by the estimate which he had formed of the hidden treasure. The new and stronger affection neutralized and blotted out all previous predilec- tions for what was his own. He sold all that he had, and bought the field. The turning-point is here ; and here, accordingly, the story is abruptly broken off. There is not a word regarding the subsequent steps of the im- portant and critical transaction. How much he gained by his bargain ; whether the validity of the purchase was disputed in a court of justice by the former proprietor, on the ground of a concealment of facts by the buyer; — these and all similar points are designedly veiled off. If they had been introduced, they would have served only to lead the investigator into a wrong track, and the meaning of the Master would thereby have been lost. The story advances in broad and manifest accordance with nature, both in its main line and in its subordinate accessories, until it has reached and passed the point which marked its goal : then the curtain suddenly drops, resolutely con- cealing all the rest, and so compelling the reader to fix his regard on the great essential lesson, instead of dis- 134 THE HIDDEN TREASURE. sipating his energies on a multitude of interesting but unnecessary speculations. Such is the material framework which sustains the spiritual truth, — such the trellis which bears up the fruitful vine: having first gone round it to survey its construction and its form, we now approach it to gather for our own use the ripe fruit that hangs within reach on every side. i. There is a treasure, placed within our reach in this world, rich beyond all comparison or conception, — a treasure incorruptible and undented and unfading. " God is love," — behold the fountain-head, where an exhaustless supply is stored : in the Gospel of Christ a channel has been opened through which streams from that fountain flow down to this distant world. In the Son of God in- carnate divine mercy reaches our nature, and supplies our wants. Through the ministry of the Spirit, in the earliest promise and in subsequent prophecy the refresh- ing water was brought into contact with parched lips. A heavenly treasure lies on this poverty-stricken, bank- rupt, accursed world, sufficient to enrich every one of its poor and miserable and wretched and blind and naked inhabitants. 2. The treasure is hidden. In early ages it was con- cealed under certain veils, constructed of design in such a manner that through their half-transparent folds a halo of the unseen glory should excite the hopes and attract the steps of every generation. The promise given at the gate of Paradise contained the treasure, but contained it wrapped up in allegoric prophecy which nothing but subsequent fulfilment could completely unfold. Down through the patriarchal and prophetic ages it continued a hidden treasure, although the new life of the faithful THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 135 was secretly sustained by it all the while. Even when Christ through these parables taught his disciples in Galilee, his kingdom was still hidden. A few fishermen, and here and there a ruler, had discovered the precious deposit, and had drawn from it enough to enrich them- selves for ever ; but to the multitude it was still, un- known. Under the form of a man — under the privacy and poverty of a Nazarene, was the fulness of the God- head hid that day from the wise and prudent of the world The light was near them, and yet they did not see ; the riches of divine grace were brought to their door, and yet they continued poor and miserable. But even after the Lord had fully declared his mission and finished his work, — after he had died for our sin, and risen again for our justification, — after his disciples through the ministry of the Spirit had published the glad tidings in many lands, — the treasure still lay hidden. It was near, and yet out of sight. Those who find it, find out at the same time that they have been almost tread- ing on it for years, and yet ignorant of its existence and its worth. Saul of Tarsus had been often near it, before he found it for himself. When Gamaliel lectured on the Mosaic sacrifices, the attentive, clear-headed and ardent pupil, was on the very point of discovering where the treasure lay ; but though often near it, he never fell on it until that day when he fell to the ground near Damascus. Felix was near it when, shut in between his own sin and God's righteousness, he trembled at the sight of the judgment-seat, like an angel with a drawn sword right before him on the narrow path. Agrippa was near it when, caught and carried away ere he was well aware by the close, clear reasoning of a true preacher, he was almost persuaded to be a Christian. Still men may be walking 136 THE HIDDEN TREASURE. near the treasure of eternal life, — walking over it, and yet miss it : the treasure that they trod upon remains hidden, and they remain poor. 3. The hidden treasure is at last found. It is noticed by all students of the parables, that on this point there is a marked distinction between the experience of the man who found the hidden treasure, and that of the merchant who found the pearl of great price. It is probable that this man was not aware that there was any treasure in that field : he seems to have been neither looking for it nor expecting' to find it. He was probably employed in some other work, and prosecuting some other object. He may have been a labourer toiling there for his daily bread ; or he may have been engaged in making a road or digging for the foundation of a house, when the trea- sure, concealed in a troubled time, was exposed to view. He found what he was not seeking : he was seeking a bit of bread, and stumbled upon a fortune. The mer- chant, on the contrary, who fell in with the precious pearl was travelling with the express purpose of discovering goodly pearls and buying them. He obtained what he was seeking ; but obtained a pearl of greater value than he had previously seen, or expected ever to see. Outwardly at least, and on the surface, a similar distinc- tion seems to obtain between one man's experience and another's, in regard to the manner of finding the trea- sures of divine grace. Some s"eem to find the Saviour when they are not seeking him ; and some, after delib- erately and consciously seeking him long, are rewarded at length. It is the former of the two classes, with whom we are more directly concerned in the exposition of this parable. Looking abroad upon the past history or the present experience of the Church, we observe that some THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 137 suddenly stumble, as it were, upon salvation, when they neither expected nor desired to find it. Not a few have come to laugh, and remained to pray. Many authentic cases are recorded of persons who entered the house of God bent on making sport of the preacher, and who went away believing in the Saviour whom he preached. A youth has left his home in the country and plunged into a great capital to push his fortune, and has found there, what he did not seek, pardon of sin and peace with God through the Saviour. Another has gone to India as a soldier, dreaming of war and victory, and honour and wealth ; but has returned a meek disciple of Jesus, glory to God and peace with men radiating like sunlight from all his spirit and all his life. A young female, chafed and fretting under the enforced dulness of a sober home, has received and accepted an invitation which promises to set her free from restraint for a time, and permit her to flutter at will in the midst of a fashionable throng. At the threshold of the prepared festivities a message meets her, — a message charged with a mighty sorrow, which drives the crowd of joyful anticipations forth from her heart, as a swollen stream bears down the dry leaves of autumn. She is thrown aside in solitude, in emptiness, in agony. In the silent night, and in the aching empti- ness of her soul, the knocking of Christ from without is for the first time heard. The weary heart opens at last, and lets the Stranger in. She has found a treasure which, though often near her before, had hitherto escaped her notice. From the peace of God in which she now dwells she looks out from time to time on the pleasures of sin which she formerly chased, and borrows from the experi- ence of ancient Israel a phrase best fitted to express her mind, — " The Portion of Jacob is not like them." 138 THE HIDDEN TREASURE. The history of the Church is studded with such ex- amples : the hearts of believers, when, they are ready tc faint, are cheered from time to time by such good news from countries far and near. It is a reproof to us, but a glory to the Lord, that he is often found of those who sought not after him. Perhaps the man in the parable was digging for stones when he fell upon the treasure : they who find the true riches meet often with a similar surprise. 4. The next feature that claims attention is the instant ardent effort of the discoverer to make the treasure his own, now that he knows what it is and where it lies. In the parable, the man conceals his discovery, because he knows that if the secret leak out, the owner will not part with his field at any price. One can easily imagine the scene and the act that enlivened it. A labouring man, digging for some purpose in a field alone, in the progress of his hard and humble work lays open one side of a glittering golden store. As soon as the first tumult of emotion has subsided, he gathers his wits and goes into action. First of all he throws some earth over the exposed portion of the treasure ; then he looks cautiously round to ascertain whether any witness was near enough to observe his motions. He proceeds next, probably, to ply his ordinary task on another spot with an indifferent air, that he may not attract attention. The place where the treasure lies, the place that he loves best, he carefully avoids : he comes not once near it again until he has paid the price, and secured the titles of the property. Too much has been made of the subordinate circum- stances here. A person in the position of this man could not do otherwise than he did, without abandoning all hope of obtaining the prize. To blab it out, would THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 139 have been to throw it away. If he had talked about it, the fact would have proved that he did not care for it. The concealment is not an essential feature, but a sub- ordinate circumstance of the parable. It was resorted to, not for its own sake, but as an obvious means of obtain- ing a desired end. The hiding of the treasure is intro- duced into the picture simply to mark the man's estimate of its worth and his determination at all hazards to obtain it. In the spiritual department a similar end is pursued, but the adoption of similar means there would not tend to insure success. In the nature of the case it is not ne- cessary to conceal the spiritual treasure from others in order to secure it for yourself. Although the world should discover it, by an intimation from you, and enrich them- selves out of it, you would not therefore obtain less. It is thus a vain labourite search, as many do, for something in the spiritual sphere corresponding to trie concealment by the discoverer in the story. The best way of interpret- ing that feature is to represent by it a soul's high appre- ciation of divine mercy and earnest desire to obtain it, and then allow the feature to drop out of sight, like the husk after the ripened grain has fallen from it and been secured. It has been said that one of the rarest kinds of knowledge is to know when to hold your peace. Many know well how to speak ; few know when to be silent. A similar experience emerges here: many have an excel- lent faculty for opening up the parables, and tracing every feature up to all its springs, and down to all its conse- quences. The power of attributing a distinct spiritual im- port to every light and shadow of the picture is common ; but the faculty of permitting a subordinate accessory to drop when it has fulfilled its office, and following stanchly on the main track, is comparatively rare. 140 THE HIDDEN TREASURE. You may, indeed, find instances in which a man, awa- kened and persuaded of thepreciousness of Christ, has kept all silent within his own breast until he has made his own calling and election sure; but in these cases the secrecy is by no means prompted by a fear that to publish the secret were to lose the treasure ; and in many other ex- amples the discoverer, during the continuance of his efforts to obtain possession, publishes the secret to the world, and enters at last into his heritage in presence of many witnesses. The discoverer of Christ's preciousness is like the discoverer of hid treasure, in his ultimate aim, but not in his mediate methods. Concealment would not help him to possession, and therefore he does not uniformly or necessarily take pains to conceal. 5. He parts with all in order that he may acquire the treasure. This is the turning-point of the parable, and the turning-point too of that which the parable repre- sents, — the conversion of sinners, — the saving of the lost. The picture, being framed of earthly materials, fails on one point to represent the idea of the Lord. When the man had converted all his property into money, and offered the net proceeds for the field, his offer was accepted as adequate, and the property was con- veyed to him in return for value received. The transac- tion which takes place in redemption between a sinful man and God his Saviour is essentially different. Al- though it is true on the one side that in accepting pardon we must and do surrender all to Christ, pardon is, not- withstanding, bestowed as a free gift. Our self-surrender does not in any sense or measure give to God an equiva- lent for that which in the covenant he bestows on his own. The same two things occur, indeed, in the natural and in the spiritual spheres, but they occur in the reverse order. THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 1.41 The price which the buyer offers induces the possessor to give him the property ; on the contrary, on the spiritual side it is the free gift of the treasure by the Proprietor that induces the receiver to part with all that he has to the Giver. In one aspect the acquisition of the treasure which enriches a soul is a purchase which a needy man makes by the surrender of all that he has, and in another aspect it is a free gift bestowed by God for Christ's sake upon him who had nothing to give in return. In as far forth as it is a purchase which a sinner makes, this parable re- presents its nature ; but in as far forth as it is a gift given on the one side and accepted on the other, this parable is silent. It contains no feature capable of presenting salvation in that point of view. 6. Mark, now in the close yet another specific feature of the material fact which has its counterpart in full on the spiritual side. It is intimated that when the man had discovered the treasure, "for joy thereof" he went and sold all, in order to buy the field that contained it. This "joy" is an essential element in the case. If it is wanting the business will at some stage certainly mis- carry, the transaction will never be completed. One love in a human heart cannot be overcome and destroyed ex- cept by another. Love, among the affections of our nature, is one of those high born nobles who refuse to be tried or superseded except by their peers. Love of the world will not yield to fear, even though the fear be a fear of God's anger. You cannot overcome and cast it out until you bring against it another and greater love. A man has joy in his possession, and lives without God in the world: he is a god unto himself. He cannot and will not surrender his joy, such as it is, to any sum- mons except to that which a greater joy sends in. Whep H2 THE HIDDEN TREASURE. the preciousness of peace with God through the blood of Christ is revealed to him, the "joy thereof" be- comes so great that all his gold becomes dross, and all his fine gold dim in his own esteem. This new joy is so weighty that it tosses up the scale in which all his former delights lay, as if they were only the small dust of the balance. A young rich man came running once to Jesus, as the owner of the field that contained the treasure of eternal life, and entered gravely into terms for the purchase. He would give so much for it, but the owner held it high : " All that thou hast," this is the price, and there is no abatement. The young man did not close with that offer, and did not complete the transaction. He went away; but what was the state of his mind as he departed ? " He went away sorrowful." Ah ! the secret is out. Although he desired, in some sense, to obtain what he called eternal life, the "joy thereof" had not been kindled in his cold, calculating heart. His love of earthly riches was too strong to yield to the suggestions of prudence, or the fear of a future judgment. The love of the old portion will yield to nothing but love of the new; and love of the new he had never felt. The case of Paul supplies an exact contrast. A learned Pharisee, conscious of a power that would one day place the highest dignities at his disposal, he was a man of great and manifold possessions. A curious and interesting in- ventory of his goods has been preserved like a fossil in the Scriptures- (Phil. iii. 5, 6). These things he highly valued and fondly loved ; "but another and opposing love came against them, and the strong man succumbed to the stronger. " What things were gain to me, these I counted loss for Christ:" he parted with all and purchased THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 143 the newly discovered treasure ; but it was " for joy there- of." He went into the transaction not driven by dread, but drawn by the expectation of a greater joy. It is thus that men buy an incorruptible treasure; it is thus that men win Christ. They deceive themselves who try how cheaply they may get to heaven, — how much of their idol they may retain and yet be safe in the judg- ment. The man who was " sorrowful " when the two por- tions were set before him for his choice, " went away." As long as peace with God in his Son, labelled with its price, " All that you have," makes us sorry that the boon is held so dear, we will never obtain the boon: when the sight of it, price and all, sends a flash of more than earthly joy into the soul, then we shall bound forward, leaving all behind, and win Christ. VI. THE PEARL. ' Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking goodly pearls : who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought it." — Matt. xiii. 45, 46. §0 closely allied are these two parables, that if we had regarded repetition as a formidable blemish in our lessons, we would not have pro- posed to expound them separately and suc- cessively. The two lines are coincident throughout their whole length, except at one point ; but there the diversity is broadly marked, amounting in one aspect to a specific contrast. In view of this difference on the one hand, and of the example of the Lord on the other, I think it right to open and apply the parable of the pearl as fully as if the parable of the hidden treasure had not gone before it. We need and get not only different pictures of the same objects, but also the same pictures repeated in different colours and on different grounds. One eye may be more touched and taken by this colour, and another by that, although the outline of the objects be in both cases essen- tially the same. Thus, the conception of a treasure found may convey the meaning more impressively to one mind, and the conception of a pearl purchased may convey it more impressively to another; and so, although the lesson of the second parable had been more nearly identical with THE PEARL. 145 that of the first than it is, it would not have been expedi- ent to dismiss it with a cursory notice. By a full exami- nation of the principle under the picture of a precious pearl, we shall obtain the advantage which in moral ques- tions, as in material operations, is often unspeakably great, of a second stroke on the same spot. The usefulness, and even the necessity of this method is acknowledged by all teachers, in whatever department they may be called to exercise their office. The same reasons, moreover, which induced the Master to reduplicate his lesson demands that we should also reduplicate ours : it is our part both in matter and in method to follow his steps. Pearls seem to have borne a higher value in ancient times than they bear now, both absolutely and in com- parison with other kinds of jewels. Romantic ideas pre- vailed regarding their origin and their nature ; but it is well worthy of remark that the parable passes in silence all that was false or fanciful in the ideas of the ancients re- garding the production and the medicinal virtue of pearls. There is not a word about their origin in a drop of dew, or the colour imparted to them by the brightness or darkness of the heavens at the moment of their con- ception : the only circumstance regarding the pearl which the Lord employs in his instructions is its high price. He seizes the obvious and universally known fact, taking no notice of the fanciful theories with which it was con- nected. This fact possesses a value in relation to Apologetics which intelligent students will readily appreciate. It is in- structive and suggestive to compare the Scriptures on such subjects with other books both ancient and modern. Take, for example, a passage from the comment of Benjamin Keach, which gives both the conceit of the ancients and <»> 10 1 46 THE PEARL. the endorsement of it at a comparatively recent era " Pearls," naturalists tell us, " have a strange birth and original. Pliny saith, Shell fish is the wonderful geni- ture of a pearl congealed into a diaphanous stone, and the shell is called the mother of pearl. Now at a certain time of the year this shell fish opens itself, and takes in a certain moist dew, after which they grow big until they bring forth the pearl. By which it seems they have their birth from heaven in a marvellous manner." Planting his foot upon this story, the worthy expositor gravely and devoutly prosecutes the parallel ; but already, although it is only a century and a half old, his speculation serves only to provoke a smile. The comment, written in Eng- land a hundred and sixty years ago, is antiquated and set aside by the light of the present day; but the parable, spoken in Galilee eighteen hundred years ago, stands in the middle of the nineteenth century, enduring in safety the scrutiny of adversaries, and ministering to the delight of friends, as fair and fresh as on the day of its birth. "Whence hath this man this wisdom?"* * For the sake of its bearing on the divine authority of the Scriptures, and the questions that are agitated at the present time, I subjoin a similar example, extracted from a lecture which I contributed to the Exeter Hall series of 1860-61 : — " A very remarkable expression occurs in the Apocalypse (xvi. 18) bearing on the work of preparing the earth for man, before man was made : ' And there was a great earthquake, such as was not since men were upon the earth, so mighty an earthquake and so great' There the advent of man, as an inhabitant of the earth, is formally given as an epoch after which great earthquakes did not occur. It is well known now that earthquakes must have rent this globe before the birth of man, which make all that have occurred since sink into insignificance ; but how was John, the fisherman of Galilee, led to employ, eighteen hundred years ago, a phraseology which the researches of our own day have now for the first time shown to be philo- sophically exact ? Speaking of this verse, and quoting it freely, John Bun- van ("Reign of Antichrist,") says, 'For the earthquake, it is said to be such as never was, so mighty an earthquake and so great.' He thought the THE PEARL. itf Pearls are the product of certain species of shell-fish, both marine and fluvial. The cause and manner of their formation have not even yet been completely ascertained. They do not constitute any part or organ of the creature that contains them. They are not found in every shell, nor of the same size and shape in any two. They are eccentric and accidental, probably also morbid excrescences, thrown out by some individuals of the species in irregular forms and at uncertain times. They probably owe their origin to the presence of some minute foreign substance within the shell, which is distasteful to its occupant. Not being able to cast out the intruder, the feeble but diligent in- habitant covers it with a sort of saliva, which hardens over it into a substance similar in consistency and sheen to the interior surface of its own shell. The act of cover- ing a base substance of any shape with gold or silver by the process of electrotype is in human art an analogous operation. When the material, distilled in imperceptibly minute portions from the living mollusc, has chemically agglomerated round the original kernel, the pearl is made. The creature having covered the irritant atom with a coating at once hard and smooth, can now endure with equanimity its presence within the shell. Thus uncon- sciously it manufactures those indestructible and much coveted jewels, for the sake of which its own life is sought and taken by man. In modern times pearl fishing has become a business, and is prosecuted on a great scale in several far separated regions. Perhaps the increase of production, through superior methods and instruments, may, here as else- phrase, 'since men were upon the earth,' was equivalent to 'never: ' so he wrote and fell into the blunder. Who led John the Apostle safely past the mistake into which John Bunyan fell ? " 148 THE PEARL. where, have contributed to depreciate the value of the article.* * I have been informed by a British merchant who, under license from the government of India, conducts the pearl fishing in the Bay of Kuratchee, that the method pursued is to bring the shells to shore as they are brought up from the bottom of the sea until a considerable quantity has been accu- mulated, disposed in a series of small contiguous heaps, and that then the men stand round the heaps, open the shells, and search for the pearls. So much loss accrues from the dishonesty of the men and the facility of secrei- ing a treasure that lies in such a small bulk, that the proprietor of the fishing has had under consideration a suggestion to sell the heaps of shells by auction to the natives, and permit them then to make the best of their bargain. Whether this method of preventing peculation has been actually adopted, I have not learned. Our own Scottish rivers are frequented by a large bivalve mollusc, which produces true pearls, although their size and number have never been suffi- cient to attract capitalists or sustain a steady trade. I do not know how others operate in other localities, but here is a method which I either in- vented for myself or borrowed from a neighbour, and practised with consider- able success on the river Earn in Perthshire when I was a boy : — Provide a long straight rod, thin and broad and rounded at the point after the manner of a paper-cutter. Jump into a light fishing-boat, and bring it right over the oyster bed when the sun shines brightly and no ripple disturbs the surface of the water. Bring the boat into such a position with respect to the sun that your own body, bending over the gunwale, will throw a sha- dow on the immediately subjacent surface. Through that shaded spot you see the bottom with great distinctness, and can distinguish there the objects ■of your search lying invitingly still, and open, and unconscious. The depth may be from six to twelve feet The molluscs lie bedded in the mud, with one edge above the ground, and that edge slightly open. Push your rod now gently down in a perpendicular direction, — for if you permit an angle the different degrees of refraction in the air and water will make your straight rod crooked, and you will egregiously miss your object at every stroke, — until its point is within an inch or two of the opening between the shells oi the mollusc, and then quickly plunge it in. Hold it still there for a few seconds until the creature has time to close and bite the rod, you may then pull it up at your leisure. Throw your capture into the bottom of the boat, and proceed in the same manner with the next. When you have collected a sufficient store, sit down and open them one by one with a knife, feeling carefully with your thumbs for the little hard round knots among the velvet folds. These knots, when extricated from the fleshy lobes that cover them, turn out to be pearls, in form more or less globular, and in sheen more or less bright. You rejoice more or less," accordingly, in your capture. The day on which a good pearl was found became a day to be remembered in THE PEARL. 149 I suppose diamonds occupy now the place that was held by pearls in ancient times. While a vast number of goodly diamonds are in circulation, affording occupation to many dealers, here and there one is found which alone constitutes a fortune of almost fabulous amount for its owner. One that was brought from India a few years ago, and is now in the possession of the Queen, has a history extending upward several generations. It passed, like provinces, from potentate to potentate by natural inheritance or the fortunes of war. If it had fallen into the hands of any private person, it would have made him an object of wonder on account of his wealth, even in presence of modern accumulations. The history and fame of the Kooh-i-noor supply the best illustration of this parable that I know. Conceive a merchant with a moderate capital setting out on a journey with the view of collecting diamonds for sale in the home market. In the course of his travels, in the interior of India it may be, he discovers a diamond such as the Kooh-i-noor in the hands of a countryman. the family group. The price of the finest never rose above a shilling or two ; but as riches are relative, and must be estimated by comparison, these were treasures to us, and the sight of a large bright pearl suddenly shining out of the shell was enough to set a boy's heart a-beating in those early days. During a drought in the summer of 1863 the small river Doon, in Ayr shire, fell so low that some pearl-beds in pools, that had not been noticed in other seasons, were exposed to view, and placed within reach : the con- sequence was that the people in the neighbourhood, old and young, betook themselves to pearl fishing, and that with considerable success. Among other facts circumstantially related in the local papers at the time, it was stated that one poor woman, during the sickness of her husband, gained as much by the sale of her pearls as made good the loss of her husband's wages for a whole month. In the course of this summer (1864), and since the preceding notes were written, a considerable amount of pearl fishing has been carried on in certain rivers in the northern districts of Scotland, and efforts have been made to organize a regular trade. 150 THE PEARL. The possessor may know generally the value of diamonds, and know that this one in particular is of greater value than any that had ever come into his hands ; yet, because it is unique, and he has nothing in his experience where- with to compare it, he may dispose of it for a tenth of its value. If the best diamond that the seller had ever seen were worth twenty thousand pounds, he might value this one at forty thousand; and that price the buyer might cheerfully pay down, although it constituted all his property, knowing that at home the prize will com- mand four hundred thousand. Thus, without supposing ignorance on the one side or dishonesty on the other, you have a transaction which will enrich the merchant at once and enable him to retire in affluence. This is the sort of transaction that is supposed in the parable. It was a natural and probable supposition at a time when information did not spread so quickly as in our time, and when pearls held as to value the place which diamonds occupy in modern merchandise. It is true that the merchant went abroad expressly for the purpose of seeking goodly pearls ; yet this pearl was to him an unexpected and surprising discovery. He had provided funds sufficient to purchase many pearls ; but when he met with this one, its value was such that he could not make an offer for it until he had returned to his home and converted all his property, including the pearls that he had previously purchased, into money. In this parable as well as in that of the hidden treasure, an object is discovered of a value hitherto unknown and unsuspected. But the lesson here is in one important respect different from that of the preceding parable, and the point of distinction is, that there a man stumbled upon a treasure when he was in search of meaner things, THE PEARL. IS' while here the merchant finds in kind the very object which he sought, but finds it in measure far surpassing all his expectation or desire. Well might the merchant return and convert all his estate into money that he might purchase this jewel ; for if it were once in his possession, as there could be no rival, he might command his own price. None but monarchs could aspire to the possession of such a treasure, and these would compete with each other at his desk for a gem that could not elsewhere be obtained.* The application of the parable is, intellectually at least, a short and easy process. It is not precisely the case of a man who finds the kingdom of God when he is seeking something else: neither is it the case of a man who first thoroughly knows the worth of that kingdom and then sets out in search of it. There is no such example: no man knows its worth before he obtains it. The merchant knew the value of pearls and set out in search of them, but such a pearl as that which he found he had never seen before, and never expected to see. So, although a man has some spiritual perceptions and spiritual desires ; although by a deliberate judgment he determines to seek the life-eternal in preference to all the business and pleasures of the world, he does not at the outset under- stand how exceeding rich the forgiving grace of God is. Nay, he thinks, when he first begins his search for salva- * Although their place is not the highest now, yet pearls even in our own day are sometimes found of a value so great that the history of an in- dividual is recorded and its praises published through the world. The following, for example, are the terms of » paragraph taken from a British journal of last year: — " One of the finest pearls in the world has been found in tbe bay of Panama. It is of a perfect pear shape, and of the finest water." 152 THE PEARL. tion, that it may be accomplished by the union of many attainments, such as men may possess. Precious pearls and a number of them indeed ; but still such pearls as he has often seen in the possession of other merchants, and such as he has in former times had in his own store. He goes out with cash in hand to buy pearls, but he leaves his house and land still his own. He expects to acquire many excellent pearls and retain all his property besides. He did not conceive of one that should be worth all he had, until he saw it. It is thus that people under convic- tions set out in search of something that will make them right before God. They want to get righteousness and temperance, and a good case for the judgment to come. In their search they come to the Gospel; they get a glimpse beneath the surface; they see protruding from beneath the folds something that surprises them. Can that be a pearl ? No ; that is larger than any pearl ever was or can be, and brighter; surely that cannot be a true pearl. What ? Pardon of sin to sinners without stipulating for a price in their own repentance and righteousness, — peace with God and sonship given free to the chief of sinners before he has done anything to deserve it, — all sin for- given, and that now and that free, and no condemnation thenceforth, but the place and the favour of God's sons! and these not only to some who stand out from their fellows as great and good, but these to me, — from God to me to-day as surely as if there never had been a human being on the earth but myself, and the errand of Christ had been only and all for me ! These glimpses stagger the man at first ; he thinks they are too good to be true. It is as if some one should tell a skilful pearl merchant that under yon covering lay a pearl a thou- sand times more precious than any he had ever seen be- THE PEARL. «S3 fore: of course the merchant is incredulous, and demands a sight of it. Then a portion of the covering is removed, and a glittering disc is partially revealed, so vast and so lustrous, that instantly and instinctively the merchant feels, If that be a pearl it is more precious a thousand-fold than any that I have ever seen : but at the same time he secretly fears it is not a pearl, and that, not for want of the true pearly lustre, which his eye has been well educated to detect, but because of its very greatness and goodness. The process in his mind is not that it does not seem a genuine pearl, but that if it were a pearl it would be so inconceivably great and precious that he must conclude there is some deception. But when it is more fully revealed and more thoroughly inspected, he finds that it is indeed a true pearl. Instantly he determines to part with all he has that he may obtain it : he parts with all that he has, and makes it his own. He has not only made a successful bargain, as other merchants may do, or as himself may have done at other times: he has in one moment enriched himself beyond all conception that he formerly entertained. His merchandise has been brought to an end. There is no need now for more buying and selling in order to acquire wealth ; his fortune is made. This is really very like the process that goes on in a human spirit when an anxious inquiry about salvation terminates in finding and closing with Christ the Saviour. The expectations with which the inquirer set out were very low. If he could get his sense of guilt somewhat lightened that he might begin anew and endeavour to please God ; if he could get the fear of wrath diminished, and some assurance that the Judge would not visit him to the full extent for all his sins ; — he does not venture to expect more. Expressly he had no conception of all in 154 THE PEARL. one: he thought of a multitude of good religious attain- ments, which, when added together, would make him, if not rich enough, yet as good as any of his neighbours. Some low and little thing he went out to seek, and, lo! he came upon all the fulness of the Godhead bodily treasured up in Christ, and all that fulness offered in return for simple surrender of himself. Surprised by the greatness of the treasure, he suspects at first that there must be some mistake ; but when he becomes convinced of its reality, his resolution is instantly taken, and the transaction irrevocably closed. Like the merchant rejoicing in his fortune is a believer who has found peace with God : henceforth he is rich. He does not need now to huckster in small bargains between his conscience and the divine law every day, and struggle to diminish the ever-increasing amount of guilt by getting small entries of merit marked on the other side of the page. All this is past. He is in Christ Jesus, and to him, therefore, there is now no condemnation. The treasurer of the Ethiopian Queen was precisely such a merchant. Before he left home he evidently counted himself poor, and longed to possess the true riches : be- fore he left home he was aware that a man is .not profited although he gain the whole world, if he lose his own soul. It was an oppressive sense of poverty that compelled him to travel. He occupied the highest office in a king- dom ; he stood on the steps of the throne, and had charge of the royal treasury ; but he counted himself poor not- withstanding. He must go in search of more precious pearls than these. Peace of conscience, righteousness, hope for eternity, — these are goodlier pearls than any that can be found in Ethiopia; and the man undertakes a journey to Jerusalem to try if he can find them there. THE PEARL. 155 Disappointed there, he was on his way home, seeking still for the pearls, and seeking near the very spot in the Scriptures where the one priceless pearl lay, when Philip met him. By the Evangelist's skilful help he found it then and there ; but when he found it at last, it was much more precious than he had ventured to expect. " He was led as a lamb to the slaughter." " Of whom speaketh the prophet this?" inquired the Ethiopian, " of himself or of some other man ?" Some subordinate benefit he was contemplating, — the suffering of some good man, perhaps, as an example to his brethren. Even that, as being something that might contribute to the peace of his soul, he was glad to hear of, and would gladly buy, that he might add it to his stock of goodly pearls. But when Philip, beginning from that scripture, " preached to him Jesus," he found that the lamb led to the slaughter is the " Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world." The worth of the pearl turned out to be immeasurably greater than the merchant had previously been able to conceive. He exchanged all for it on the spot, and went on his way rejoicing. He did not require to go from country to country any more in search of goodly pearls He was rich, — rich toward God.* * Das ist Philippus element, Er iibt sein Predigtamt, Lebendig wird das Pergament, Des Mohrenfursten Herze brennl, Sein dunkles Auge flammt. Denn was er im Juwelenschrein Kandaces nimmer sah, Die eine Perle, himmlischrein Die kostlicher als Edelstein, Er fand am Weg sie da. Karl Gerok. 1 56 THE PEARL. I think all speculations about the whiteness and purity and lustre of the pearl as an ornament should be set aside, as being an attempt to bring a meaning out of the parable which its Author did not put into it. Obviously the merchant did not buy it in order to wear it. If after giving all that he had for the pearl, he had hung it on his neck, where could the poor man have found food and clothing ? No ; the pearl is presented here in one aspect only, — as being " of great price." It was worth much — it was a fortune to a merchant; but when you speak of it as an ornament on the wearer's brow, you turn aside from the line of the parable, and miss its mean- ing. The true lessons of the parable, as I understand them, are briefly these : — 1. It represents the experience, not of a careless or a profane man, who stumbles suddenly upon the Gospel when he was in search of other things, but of one who is awakened, and has begun to seek the true religion, endeavouring to add attainment to attainment sincerely, according to his light. His conscience is uneasy. He has tried the old specific, " All these have I kept from my youth up;" but it no longer avails to soothe his spirit " What lack I yet?" burst from his breast in broken sighs. There is truth in the man, though not wisdom. He is honestly seeking the way, and the Lord leads him. He is seeking ; he shall find. 2. It represents the unparalleled, inconceivable rich- ness of God's mercy in Christ, taking away all a sinner's sin, and bestowing on him freely the place and privileges of a dear child. 3. It represents that these riches lie, not in an accu- mulation of goodly attainments, such as men are wont to THE PEARL. IS7 traffic in, but in one undivided, indivisible, hitherto un- known and unimagined treasure. 4. It represents that the inquirer, the instant he dis- covers that this one incomparable, all-comprehending trea- sure exists and is offered to him, cheerfully, eagerly, unhesitatingly gives away all that he possesses, in order to acquire it. That is, he gives all for Christ, and then enjoys all in Christ. Let me suppose myself a merchant, travelling in a foreign country in quest of pearls. I have found and secured several lots that I count good. I have still capital remaining sufficient to purchase many more ; I therefore continue my search. One day I meet a man who shows me a pearl more precious than any that I had ever seen before. At a glance I perceive that it is worth all I possess twenty times told. I say to the owner, and say it with a beating heart, fearing that he will despise my offer, " I shall give you all I possess for this pearl." He accepts my offer; he gives me the pearl into my own hands, and I consign over to him all that I have in the world: first, all the pearls that I have bought in my journey; next, all my remaining capital ; then houses, lands, books, — all. I sign the deed with a throbbing heart, not from fear, but from abounding joy. My act does not inti- mate that I value lightly my possessions and rights : it intimates that my new portion is, in my esteem, so greatly good, that it will repay all my outlay, and give me a fortune beside. So when I abandon my repentance, and my prayers, and my services and gifts — when I sign away all my ex- pectations on account of all religious attainments, and accept Christ alone as my soul's portion — my act does not intimate that I count little on the various graces of 158 THE PEARL. the Spirit in a disciple's life : it means that in Christ and with him I have all good things in measure infinite, in duration eternal. If our suggestion regarding the cause and manner of the pearl's growth is correct, the kingdom of God in the Gospel of his Son was generated in the same way: the pearl and the pearl of great price have the same natural history. Some foreign, hurtful thing falls on the creature's life. Forthwith the irritation which that invader produces causes the creature to throw out and over the disturber that which forms a covering round it — hiding, smothering, annihilating the originating evil, and constituting over it and in place of it a gem of the tenderest, gentlest beauty — impenetrable, imperishable, glorious. So sin, a corroding drop, a dark, deadly, vexing, tor- turing thing, fell upon God's fair creation, threatening to inoculate it with a poison that should leaven the whole lump, and change its beauty into corruption. But around the dark sin-spot, and because the sin-spot was there, divine love showered down, like the impalpable silver gathering on its object in the electrotype, embracing, surrounding, covering, killing the evil and bitter thing that threatened to destroy the works of God. Death was swallowed up in victory. The Son of God came into the world because sin was on it. He, the Holy One, took sin into his bosom, that he might quench it in his own em- brace. It was sin that summoned the Saviour to the world, and gave shape to the Gospel of God. To the devil's wile in Eden, as the occasion, though not the cause, unfallen angels and ransomed men will for ever be indebted for that specific work of their Creator which will most attract their eyes and inspire their songs. On one THE PEARL. 159 side they behold mercy, in spotless, unmingled white; and on the other side they behold judgment, darker, indeed, yet equally resplendent. But here in the midst, in the person of God incarnate, they see mercy and judgment meeting — the pearl of great price — where two different and apparently opposite glories mysteriously and beau- teously mingle and play. Death swallowed up in victory; sin embraced and so destroyed in the person of Immanuel; sin lost in the holiness and love that agglomerated round it; — this pearl will shine in heaven with a glory that excelleth, when the sun and stars shall have fallen like unripe figs from the sky. VII. THE DRAW-NET. " Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a net, that was cast into the sea, and gathered of every kind : which, when it was full, they drew to shore, and sat down, and gathered the good into vessels, but cast the bad away. So shall it be at the end ol the world : the angels shall come forth, and sever the wicked from among the just, and shall cast them into the furnace of fire : there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth." — Matt. xiii. 47-50. JREAT variety obtains in the size and structure of fishing-nets ; and great variety, too, in the manner of using them. Some are stationary, fixed to poles in the sea or the estuaries of rivers ; some are dropped in a straight line into the water, and allowed to remain there suspended until a shoal of fish, endeavouring to pass, become entangled one by one in the meshes ; others are shot in a semicircular form into the sea, and immediately drawn back by both extremities simultaneously to the shore. It is this last mentioned species of net that is employed in the parable. Its depth is comparatively small, but its length is great. One side is kept close to the bottom by weights, and the other side drawn towards the surface by corks or bladders. Thus when spread it stands erect like a wall in the water, enclosing a large space. As soon as it has been spread, the fishermen begin to draw it at both ends slowly and steadily towards the land. As the en- closed semicircle gradually diminishes, the captured THE DRA W- NET. 1 6 1 fishes, having still room for motion, retire before the advancing prison wall, until they are at length confined within a very narrow space, and drawn into shallow water. There is then a violent flutter for a few moments, and the whole are laid helpless on the sand. Then begins that operation on which the Master has here mainly fixed his eye, and to which exclusively he directs attention in his own exposition. When the fisher- men have at last drawn the net wholly out of the water and secured its contents on dry land, they sit down to examine leisurely the worth of their capture, and to sepa- rate the precious from the vile. The good they gather into vessels for preservation ; the bad they simply throw away. The net surrounded and brought to land every living creature that fell within its sweep, and was not small enough to escape through its meshes. Some of these are in their own nature and at all times unfit for food; others are useless at particular seasons. Every one who has watched the operations of fishermen on the shore is familiar with the appearance of star-fish and other low forms of marine life, which are drawn out by the nets, and cast away upon the sand. Large predatory fishes of a low type are also sometimes caught, when they venture too near in search of prey. In some instances, moreover, fishes that are dead and partially decayed are brought up in company with the living, and these are of course cast out as vile. The central figure of the parable, round which the other features congregate only as fore or back ground accessories — the central figure is, A group of fishermen,, panting from recent exertion, sitting on a knoll close by the sea-side, with the newly-drawn net lying in a soaking heap at their feet, picking up one by one the fishes that (9) 11 1 6 2 THE DRA W-NE T. are fit for food, and putting them on one side into baskets, and casting the rest away. The men are skilful, ex- perienced, and cool ; they have no interest in forming an erroneous judgment, and they are not liable to fall into mistakes. The separation between good and bad is made without partiality and without hypocrisy ; it is deliberate, accurate, inevitable. At the close, not one good fish has been cast away, and not a bad one has been admitted into the vessels. It is of great importance to note that when the Lord undertakes to explain this parable, he determines for us the spiritual meaning of the last act only of the fisher- men's labours, and passes in silence all the rest. I do not conclude from this fact that the earlier features of the scene possessed no spiritual significance, or that their meaning cannot be ascertained. But it is undeniable that when Christ himself gives the meaning of his own parable, the part that he leaves unexplained cannot be as surely and clearly understood as the part which he has explained: and further, the portion of a parable on which he maintained silence while he explained another part, is not for us in the same position as another parable of which he has not given an exposition at all. Some of them are so transparent that he did not count it needful to give the interpretation; in other cases, such as the sower, he gave the signification of the whole ; in a third class of cases, to which this parable belongs, he explains one feature of the picture, and maintains silence regarding the rest. Now it is precisely the portions left without explanation in parables partially explained, that must in the nature of the case be to us most uncertain. It may be assumed regarding them that their spiritual meaning is either self-evident, and therefore required not a com- THE DRAW-NET. 163 ment, or of subordinate importance, and therefore did not obtain one. In this case it is certain, from the diver- sity of opinion that prevails regarding them, that these portions are not easily understood : there remains only the other alternative, that they are not essential. Our view of the grand lesson which the Master taught from the closing act of the fishermen, is very little affected by the opinion which we may form regarding the preparatory portions. Those who differ widely re- garding the significance of trees and animals that occupy the background of a picture, may notwithstanding agree entirely regarding the meaning of the picture itself Although we entertain various views in respect to the spreading and drawing of the net, we come all, under the Master's guidance, to substantially the same view of the separation between good and evil which was accomplished when the net was brought to shore. Upon this point the Lord fixed his eye and expressed his mind. He has made it so plain that there is not room among Christians for serious diversity concerning it. A river in Africa is known and navigated in its lower reaches near the sea. Ships from many nations frequent the estuary, and obtain cargoes of oil, and wax, and fruit from the inhabitants on its shores. But a question, mean- time, arises among geographers regarding the source of this river in the interior of the continent, and the direc- tion of its current before it reaches the navigable portion near the ocean. One believes the river rises in the north, and flows mainly southward ; another contends that it springs in a mountainous ridge far to the eastward, and flows in a westerly course to the Atlantic In defect of an actual exploration, there is room for differences of opinion ; and differences have accordingly sprung up. 1 64 THE DRAW-NET. The right is better than the wrong even here; but the importance of the point is in a commercial point of view, secondary. Waiting till time shall afford the materials for decision, the disputants meanwhile frequent the deep estuary in company, and grow rich by the merchandise which it supplies. Thus we all understand, from the Lord's own transparent, decisive exposition, the last, the deepest, the most profitable portion of the parable. While we endeavour reverently to investigate the portions that are still uncertain, we should rejoice with thankful- ness that where agreement was most necessary, the Great Teacher has made it impossible to differ. After this explanation, I need not hesitate to admit that the view of the parable, in its earlier and unexplained portions, which on the whole most commends itself to my judgment, differs essentially from the expositions that are generally given. With modest, grave, watchful spirit should one student of the Scripture suggest and another receive, an interpretation of any portion different from that which has been given by the earnest, accomplished, and devout scholars, who in various countries and times have sought to discover the mind of the Spirit. On the other hand, to suppress a judgment, in deference to human authority, would be disloyal to the Lord and contrary to the principles of Protestants. The view commonly entertained is, that the net is the Church, or, as some express it, the Bible and the ordi- nances of religion ; while the fishermen who spread and draw it are the apostles in the first instance, and after- wards the ordinary ministers of the word. If the net is the Church, and its drawers the Church's ministers, the whole question of discipline is immediately raised. This parable, accordingly, like that of the tares, has been im- THE DRAW-NET. 165 pressed into their own service by the opponents of dis- cipline both in ancient and modern times. We emphati- cally repeat here, what we formerly stated in connection with the cognate parable, that no consistent argument can be maintained in regard to discipline from this scrip- ture, except an absolute and entire repudiation of all effort, by a human ministry and in this present world, to keep any person or class of persons without the pale of the visible Church on account of their opinions or their conduct. Very few, however, venture to take this ground. The ordinary method is to contend for some measure of Church order — for the right and duty of excluding some of the worst — and then to lean on this parable for an argument in favour of a lax and against a stringent administration. We submit that to take your stand on this parable, and thence contend for the exclusion to some extent of the evil from the pale of the Church, is to trample all logical' and critical laws under foot. This scripture manifestly either forbids all effort to discriminate in this world, or says nothing at all on the subject. I shall now state, as distinctly and fairly as I can, some of the difficulties and inconsistencies which adhere to the common interpretation of the net and its drawers, and convince me that it is not the true interpretation. 1. It makes those who draw the net through the water, and those who separate between good and evil on the shore, not the same, but different persons, and persons of different classes, — the one representing men minister- ing to the Church in time, the other angels executing judgment in eternity ; whereas, both from the terms of the narrative and the ordinary practice of fishermen, we know that the same persons who draw the net to shore afterwards divide between the worthless and vile of its 1 66 THE DRA W-NE T. contents. The net " was cast into the sea, and gathered of every kind : which, when it was full, they drew to shore, and sat down, and gathered the good into vessels, but cast the bad away." There is no ambiguity here ; the drawers are also the dividers. I suppose none will take advantage of the impersonal form in which the casting of the net is expressed, and assume that while one class, re- presenting a human ministry, cast the net into the water, another class, representing ministering angels, drew it to land and divided its contents ; for it would be, contrary to all analogy and propriety, to assume that the Lord introduced into his picture a feature that is never found in fact. There is no such thing in reality as one set of men throwing the net into the water, and then retiring from the scene, while another set of men draw it out. The ordinary interpretatipn assumes, contrary both to the letter of Scripture and the custom of men, that when ministers of flesh and blood have spread the net, and drawn it toward the shore, enclosing a multitude good and bad of their brethren, they disappear and take no part further in the transaction. Another party, represent- ing the angels, now fasten on the net, and pick out the good from the bad. A late German expositor, learned, sug- gestive, and devout, Olshausen, yielding to the inexorable logic of the case, concedes that the drawers of the net and the dividers of the fish are not diverse, but the same. He turns, however, to the other side for a solution of the diffi- culty. Instead of simply proceeding to determine the un- known by the known ; — instead of owning that as angels separate the good from the evil on the shore, they must have also thrown and drawn the net, he explains away the specific signification of angels, and supposes that those who minister the Gospel in time are employed, under THE DRAW NET. 167 the general designation of angels, to separate between good and evil in the world to come. This solution will not readily commend itself to British students of the Scripture. The fact therefore remains, that the ordinary exposition of the parable, in this part of its progress, is palpably at variance with the structure of the parable itself,, and the facts on which it is founded. 2. In the visible Church, the profession, at the very least, is to enclose the good within the communion of saints, or to rescue the evil by making them new in the act of entrance ; whereas the net is let down at a certain spot to sweep indiscriminately all within its circle to the shore. It makes absolutely no distinction between good and bad ; it can discriminate only between great and small. The net is laid down in the sea along a certain line : twelve inches beyond that line nsbes good and bad are swimming, which it does not touch ; while an inch within that line are fishes good and bad which it draws indis- criminately to the shore. I can perceive no likeness between this and the kingdom of heaven, if you under- stand thereby the visible Church and the efforts of the ministry. 3. One of the chief practical lessons which expositors ancient and modern have drawn from the parable, under this view of its meaning, is extremely incongruous, and even grotesque. Churchmen cling to it as a sheet anchor in controversy with Nonconformists. If this notion were adopted only by mediaeval monks and modern Romanists, I would reckon it unworthy of notice ; but it is received and uttered again as genuine at this day by grave and learned Protestant theologians of Germany, and notwith- standing the solidity and good sense which characterize 1 68 THE DRA W-NET. his "Notes" generally, is formally reproduced in its boldest form by Dr. Trench.* The practical lesson, then, which these expositors draw from the parable is, that disciples of Christ are not justified in leaving an organized Church with which they were connected, and forming a Christian community beyond its pale, on the ground that unworthy members are tolerated within its communion. This is, indeed, not the true state of the question as between the Established Episcopal Church in England and the early Noncon- formists ; the Puritans did not spontaneously retire, they were ejected by the hand of power because they refused to comply with new ordinances imposed upon the Church of Christ by human authority. But although the state of the question were conceded, the argument completely fails. If this lesson against separation is justly deduced from the parable, there must be in the natural object some parallel more or less distinct which suggests and supports it. What is that parallel, and where does it lie ? Translate the spiritual lesson, which men profess to find, back into the material facts, and observe the straits into which your mistake has brought you. The parallel obviously must be, — The good fishes that are enclosed * " They [this and the parable of the tares] convey, too, the same further lesson, that this fact [the actual intermixture of evil in the visible Church] . does not justify self-willed departure from the fellowship of the Church, and impatient leaping over or breaking through the nets, as here it has often been called ; but the Lord's separation is patiently to be waited for, which shall surely arrive at the end of the present age." — Dr. Trench, Notes on the Parables, p. 133. This is a style far too loose for a critical exposition of Scripture. If the actual presence of tolerated impurity within the Church does not justify a " self-willed" departure from her communion, does it iustify a departure that is not self-willed, but a solemn separation in order to carry out the will of the Lord ? The assumption that the separation ol the English Nonconformists was " self-willed," of course begs the whole question. THE >DRA W-NE T. 1 6g within the net, or those that count themselves good should not leap out because star-fish and molluscs are en- closed along with them. Either this is the parallel on which, the lesson leans, or it has no foundation at all ; but there is no such thing in nature, and no such representation in the parable. The fishes when they are once enclosed within the net cannot break out ; and even if they could, they would break out not because they were confined in low company, but because they were confined. The good would fain be free ; and the bad too. From first to last the net is to all its inmates and to all alike a dreaded prison. I do not descry a solitary feature of resemblance between the parable at this stage and the doctrine re- garding Church discipline which the expositors deduce from it.* 4. The sea, according to the interpreters, being the world, and the net being the Church, I want to know what is meant by drawing the net to land. To be drawn from the sea to the land must mean to be led, willing or unwilling, from this life into eternity ; for both good and bad are brought to the shore ; then and there the separa- tion takes place which all acknowledge to be final. But are the members of the visible Church alone drawn out of this life into the other world ? Do the ministers of the Gospel occupy themselves in dragging their brethren away from the world ? Here, too, the interpretation is incon- * While Stier and Trench seem to start with the same principle of inter- pretation on this subject, they are led ultimately to opposite practical re- sults. Trench, as we have seen, gathers from the parable that the pure, or those who consider themselves pure, are not justified in leaping out of the net at their own pleasure ; that is, the Nonconformists should not go and constitute conventicles beyond the pale of the Establishment. Stier, on the contrary, represents the evil as endeavouring to break out of the net, but unable to accomplish their purpose : " Many a leviathan is caught, and although he would fain get out, yet cannot break the net." — Stier in loc. 170 THE DRAW-NET. sistent with the facts of the case and the representations of the parable. These difficulties in which the common interpretation is involved, go far to prove that it must be erroneous ; a true principle of exposition would surely not lead its ad- herents into such straits. The real key, if it were found, might be expected to open the lock without wrenching its parts asunder. Although for my own part I would be content to take the plain and undoubted doctrine which the closing scene of the parable contains, and leave the earlier stages of it as the Lord left them, without attaching to them any definite and distinct significance, I am prepared at the same time to suggest a totally different interpretation of the net drawing the fishes to land, for the consideration of those who love to search the Scriptures. I shall state the principle of interpretation which commends itself to my judgment, and leave everyone to judge for himself whether it will consistently and profitably explain all the facts. The net is not the visible Church in the world, and the fishes good and bad within it do not represent the true and false members of the Church. The sea is the world. The net, almost or altogether invisible at first to those whom it surrounds, is that unseen bond which, by an in- visible ministry, is stretched over the living, drawing them gradually, secretly, surely, towards the boundary of this life, and over it into another. As each portion, or generation of the human race, are drawn from their element in this world, ministering spirits, on the lip of eternity that lies nearest time, receive them and separate the good from the evil. I shall enumerate here some of the reasons which com- THE DRA W-NET. 1 7 > mend this interpretation, and notice some of the objections which may be urged against it. Among the reasons which commend it, — i. It assumes, according to the facts of the case and the express terms of the scripture, that the same persons who draw the net also separate the worthy from the worthless of its contents on shore. 2. In owning this along with Olshausen, it owns also that the angels who separate the good from the evil at the end of the world are angels, and does not with him explain them away into the human ministry of the Gospel. 3. It is perfectly congruous with the habits of fisher- men and the character of the instruments which they em- ploy. As fishers drop the net over a certain space, and, without making any pretence of discriminating between good and bad, drag all within that space to shore ; so the invisible agents whom God employs in his universal ad- ministration, whether laws or angelic spirits or both com- bined, make no distinction between good and bad, when by successive castings of the net, as it were, they enclose section after section, generation after generation of human kind, and draw them slowly, silently, but inevitably to the edge of this life, and over it into the unseen world. I scarcely know in the whole range of nature an analogy more true and touching than this. When you allow that the angels cast and draw the net as well as divide its con- tents, the incongruities disappear, and the picture starts into life, true to the original. The fishes, enclosed within the net when it is first thrown out, but still swimming in the sea, not aware that the net is round them, are intensely like a human generation, with the sentence of death hang- ing over them, yet living and moving freely, and looking for many days. As the circle of the net grows narrower 172 THE DRAW- NET. the fishes gently give way before it, and so enjoy for a little longer the sensation of floating at liberty in the water; and it is not until they touch the ground that they become thoroughly alarmed. The struggle then is sud- den, earnest, short, unavailing. Thus are mankind, with- out respect to their vice or their virtue, indiscriminately drawn to the margin of this world's life, and, willing or unwilling, thrown into an unknown state beyond. 4. If any struggles are made against the encircling net during the slow, solemn process of drawing — any efforts on the part of the captives to leap out into freedom, they are made, not by one kind in displeasure at being shut up with another, but by every kind indifferently in dis- pleasure at being shut up at all. Like the indefinite terror of mute fishes when they feel the net coming closer in, is the instinctive alarm of human beings when the hand of death is felt gradually contracting the space in which the pulses of life are permitted to play. I shall now notice and endeavour to estimate the prin- cipal objections, as far as I am able to anticipate them, which may be urged against the interpretation that I have suggested. 1. The Lord at another time, in calling some of his apostles, said, " Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men" (Matt. iv. 19). He did; and I think it is by a mistake in instituting an analogy between that fact and this parable that interpreters have been led into a wrong track. Some expositors have made a similar mistake in regard to the parable of the leaven, and the one error will throw light upon the origin and nature of the other. Observing that the Lord in another place represents the doctrines of the Pharisees and the Sadducees as a leaven, some have THE DRAW-NET. 173 concluded that the leaven in the parable also must point to the spread of error, and have expounded it accordingly. All judicious critics, however, clearly see and distinctly explain in that case, that the leaven which was in other instances employed to represent the diffusion of evil, was in the parable employed to represent the prevalence of good. Although leaven in one of the Lord's discourses pointed to hypocrisy and unbelief, they teach, and teach correctly, that leaven in another of his discourses points to the progress of saving truth. The same discrimination should be exercised here. It is quite true that the Lord at one time, and in one dis- course, compared the ministry of apostles in winning souls to the labour of fishers in the ordinary exercise of their craft ; but that does not prevent him from employing at another time the universal sweep of the draw-net to re- present the silent, slow, and sure encompassing of human kind, which draws them, good and bad alike, by instru- ments and agencies which they do not see and cannot resist, from this troubled sea of time toward the shore of the unknown eternity. Because the conception of captur- ing fishes in the sea is at one time in the Lord's discourses employed to indicate the benevolent labour of the Gospel ministry, it does not follow that you are compelled to construe that conception in the same way wherever it occurs, although the circumstances manifestly render the application incongruous and contradictory. Let it be observed, moreover, that when the apostles in respect of their work are called fishers of men, not one feature in the process of fishing is specified in detail. Nothing is introduced but the general conception of a fisherman catching fishes in the sea. This conception in the abstract contains nothing incongruous with the 1 7 4 THE DRA W-NE T. labour of the apostles. As long as you abide by the bare general term "fisher," the analogy, as applied to "apostle," is obvious and the meaning easily recognised; but the moment you descend into the details of a net, and the mixture of good and evil, you plunge into inextricable confusion, if you persist in maintaining an analogy be- tween the detailed process of fishing and the labour of apostles for the kingdom of Christ. The general conception of fishing, as it appeared to the mind of speaker and hearers on the margin of the Lake of Galilee, diverged into two dissimilar branches as soon as it descended into practical detail. The fishermen pro- secuted their avocation sometimes with line and baited hooks, sometimes with boat and nets. Fishing with line and hook, a process of watching, selecting, discriminating, whereby the fishes are one by one enticed and taken, readily spontaneously leaps up before the imagination as a line parallel with the work of an evangelist, bent on winning souls; but fishing by the draw-net absolutely refuses to be fashioned into an analogue of the evange- listic work. The Lord in his teaching said that fishers were like apostles ; but he never said that the process of fishing by the draw-net resembles the efforts of his ministers for the conversion of the world. Of the two methods of fishing which were familiar to the parties, one is in some of its main features analogous to the new employment into which Jesus called the twelve, and the other is totally dissimilar. When I read, therefore, that an apostle is a fisher of men, I shall think of the selecting, discriminating method of casting a hook into the water; and when I learn from this parable that the separation between the good and bad of the net's contents upon the shore represents the separation between good and bad THE DRAW-NET. 175 men by the ministry of angels in the unseen world, I am not compelled — I am not permitted to believe, contrary to all analogy, that the Church encloses all, like the net, without an effort, a hope, a desire to discriminate, and that the ministers of the Church, like the fishermen, drag their brothers unwilling out of the world to the judgment- seat. 2. But has not the Lord said in this parable, as in all the rest of the group, the kingdom of heaven is like unto a net that was cast into the sea? He has; yet the fact does not prove that he meant to represent the Church by the net, and the labour of apostles by the spreading and drawing of the net. The formula, " The kingdom of heaven is like," relates to the parable as a whole, and not specifically to that feature of the parable which lies next to it in the record. For the evidence of this proposition it is not necessary to go further than the two immediately preceding parables. In one, " the kingdom of heaven is like unto treasure;" in the other, it "is like unto a mer- chant-man." If, instead of looking to the picture as a whole, you insist on finding the analogue of the kingdom or the Church specifically in the net, you must, in like manner, in the parable of the pearl, find that the Church is specifically compared to a man, whereas in the preceding example it was compared to a treasure. In these examples it is demonstrated that the analogy instituted refers to the picture as a whole, and not to the single feature that first occurs in the narrative.* The Lord intimates in the introductory formula that * The argument on this point'is well stated by Limburg Brouwer. His conclusion is : " Accedit quod Tpo/ivBtov illud, (li/Mww&j i] j3aci\etct, K.r.X.) saepe ita comparatum est, ut proprie non conferendum sit cum solo illo subjecto, quocum ab auctore connectatur, sed potius cum universa re nar- rata" — Be Paraiolis Jesu Christi, 153. 176 THE DRA W-NE T. he intends by this parable to give yet another lesson re- garding the kingdom of heaven ; and it must be deter- mined otherwise than by the mere juxtaposition of the clauses, on what aspect or period of the kingdom he will by this similitude throw light. Six consecutive lessons on the subject have already been given. He has taught already what hinders the kingdom in the deceitfulness of human hearts, and the machinations of the wicked one ; what its inherent power is, and what its contagious all- pervading influence; what is its value in the estimate of those who know it, and how much they willingly part with in order to obtain the treasure. What new and additional characteristic of the kingdom does the Master teach his disciples in the seventh and last parable of the group — the parable of the draw-net? The closing lesson about the kingdom relates to the closing scene of the kingdom — the separation of the wicked from the good on the great day. From the order of the subjects in the series you might expect this ; from the picture actually presented you are logically led to infer this; but, espe- cially, you know this from the spontaneous explanation then and there given by the Lord. Although, according to his usual method, he completed the parabolic picture, filling up the fore and back grounds with the objects that naturally lay there, yet when he comes to the interpre- tation, he passes in silence all these preparatory features, and tells the meaning of the last only — the separation of the wicked from the just through the ministry of angels at the end of the world. Yes, as the Lord said, this parable sheds light on the kingdom, but the portion of the kingdom on which the light falls is the close. It brings out in strong relief the final separation between those who remain distant and those who are brought nigh. THE DRA W-NET. • 7 7 In view of the decisive fact that the Lord gives an in- terpretation, and does not interpret the casting and draw- ing of the net to mean the visible Church and its opera- tions^ — does not interpret the casting and drawing of the net at all, I cannot assent to the demand that the general formula of introduction common to all the seven parables should be held to determine what specific portion of the extended picture, or whether any, represents the Church in relation to the character of its members and the duty of its ministers. When God in his work of creation determined to give this globe a " lesser light," to mitigate the necessary dark- ness of its night in the absence of the sun, he provided an orb which serves that purpose, and more. Although only one of its sides is turned towards the earth, the moon has another side formed in full. For light to the earth the Creator needed only a disc; but in order to provide it he made a sphere. In a similar manner the Lord has acted in the parable, when he desired to give his disciples a lesson upon the separation which takes place at the close of the dispensation ; jHe made the orb full, although he illumined only one side of it by his own interpretation. If any one is disposed to hold me to the letter of this similitude, and say that the uninterpreted portion of the parable is left, like the further hemisphere of the moon, deep in the shade, and beyond our view, I frankly consent to be so held. I agree that those portions of the parable should be considered to us of uncertain significance. We may lawfully and profitably examine them,.and test every proposed explanation, and profit by every good lesson that may be obtained ; but we ought absolutely to abandon all attempts to find there an authority for any w 12 1 7 8 THE DRA W-NE T. doctrine or any duty. I think when the Lord has ex- plained a part of one of his own parables, the portion of it which he has left unexplained is in a different position from a parable which he has not explained at all. When he gives any interpretation, his silence has a meaning as well as his words. If he had meant to determine by a particular feature of this parable any important doctrine or duty, we may rest assured, when he did undertake to give an explanation, he would not have left that part altogether unexplained. On the whole, I think the earlier portion of the parable is debatable ground ; it is left in the shade ; there is room for difference of opinion in regard to it. In some aspects it may suggest useful reflections as a picture of the good and evil mingled in the Church ; in other aspects it may suggest solemn thoughts as a picture of successive generations being gradually drawn from life's moving sea to eternity's stable unknown shore. I believe that profitable lessons may be obtained from it in both of these, and perhaps in other aspects ; I believe that the disciples do not sin, and the Master is not displeased, when to one inquirer it suggests this lesson, and to another it suggests that, as long as all is done in charity, and according to the analogy of the faith. I have suggested a line of thought, which I believe to be relevant and profitable ; but I would not dare to plant my foot on this exposition as the ground of any doctrine or any duty. It is because others, both in ancient and modern times, have pretended to find on the unillumined side of this parable a light to guide Christians authoritatively in points that vitally affect the kingdom of Christ, that I have entered at so great length into the inquiry. I confess frankly that I count it a good and necessary work to wrench this scripture from the hands of those who, THE DRA W-NET. 179 whether in ignorance or conscious partiality, use it as an instrument practically to blot out the line which the Lord has elsewhere drawn between the Church and the world. It is not necessary now to refute formally the fond, feeble notion, that this parable proves the sinfulness of dissenting from the Church of England, established by the State and prelatic in its government. Even although we should concede that the visible Church and the char- acter of its constituents are the subjects with which the parable deals, it would be childish trifling on the part of a Churchman to quote it as of authority against Noncon- formists. In the same Bible stands the precept, " Come out from among them and be ye separate ;" and the Nonconformist has as good a right, that is, no right at all, to quote it as of authority by itself against a Churchman. The matter cannot be settled, on either side, by general announcements like these, although they are selected from the Scriptures. Every case must be judged upon its own merits. The question whether a dissenter has separ- ated from a corrupt community in order to obey his Lord, or has rent the Church to gratify his own pride, must be determined in each case by an appeal to the facts : no solution satisfactory to intelligent Christians, or to grown men, can be reached by superciliously throwing a text in your neighbour's face. This remark is made upon the supposition that the parable bears upon the point, which I think is more than doubtful. Those who gravely counsel the fishes to abide peacefully within the net, and not to leap out pharisaically and schismatically because foul fish abound within the same enclosure, certainly show themselves incapable of appreciating the analogies of nature, whatever may be their familiarity with eccle- siastical affairs. . 180 THE DRAW-NET. We subjoin two practical lessons; the first, though in itself self-evidently true, depending for its suggestion here on the special view of the net which we have sub- mitted ; the second founded directly on the word and enforced by the authority of the Lord. i. We of this generation, a miscellaneous multitude of old and young, good and evil, move about at liberty in the wide expanse of life, as fishes move about in the deep broad sea ; but certain mysterious, invisible lines, have been let down into the water, and are silently, slowly creeping near, and winding round us. The net at first has a vast compass : a fish within its circle has as much room as it needs, and cares not for distant danger. Even when the cords begin to come near, he moves out of their way, and for his own comfort embraces warmly the opinion that these cords do not constitute a net. They are some loose things, — certain species of sea-weed, such as he has often seen before. He has gone round them or through them often and easily : he will do so again. But these approach persistently, and still from the same side: they lie between him and the open sea : to avoid them he must move in-shore. Getting now a nearer view, he descries some new features of the danger. These lines are crossed and knitted in a manner all unlike the sea- weed threads that streamed so long and straight and loose in the tide-way. A secret foreboding of some un- known doom arises : the alarmed captive, having now no further room to retire, darts wildly sea-ward, and is caught in the inevitable meshes of the encircling net, After a moment of violent but feeble struggle, he is laid still and dumb on the shore. It is a picture touchingly, terribly exact of our own state. The net has been spread around us: the sharp THE DRAW-NET. 'Si knitted lines gradually approach and touch us. Shrink- ing from the clammy contact as we would from living snakes, we retire before them, and still find room. But the lines appear again, always on the same side. Our space grows narrower as we recede, from year to year, from week to week, from day to day, until at length we graze the ground and strike upon the eternal world. That net cannot be removed or evaded ; but it may be changed, so that you would not fear its approach. When we become new creatures in Christ, death approaching us becomes a new creature too, as the image in a mirror changes with the object that stands before it. This dreaded net becomes like a warm, soft, encircling arm, pressing a frightened infant closer to a mother's breast. 2. Good and bad alike are drawn in company toward the shore, but the good and bad are separated when they reach it. No lesson can be addressed to men more touching, more piercing than this. Nor is its penetrating power diminished by any deficiency of authority in the word that presses it home. It is the word of the Lord ; not spoken in parables, but expressly given as the meaning of the parable that had been spoken. Its force is not weakened by any quiver of doubt in the Christian brotherhood as to the Master's mind. All Christians hear this word and understand it alike : the whole assembly, when they hear it, bow the head and worship. On the authority of our Redeemer, and in terms so transparent that they afford no room for doubt, we learn that on the shore to which we are silently, surely moving, a separation infallibly exact and irrevocably final will be made be- tween the evil and the good. As to the positive punish- 182 THE DRAW-NET. ment into which the impenitent will be cast, while I simply receive all the words of the Lord, I shall take care not to obtrude many of my own. He spoke of matters beyond the cognizance of sense, and beyond even the range of imagination, and therefore in the nature of the case we cannot fully understand his words., But He who utters this solemn warning knows what we understand by " a furnace of fire," and by "wailing and gnashing of teeth :" he intends to convey to us, regarding sufferings that are not only unknown, but in our present condition to us un- knowable, as clear and deep and awe-inspiring an impres- sion as our minds are capable of receiving. He leads our minds in that direction as far as they can follow ; and, for the rest, darkness will cover it until " that day." In the direction downward unto death, as well as upward unto life, the word holds good, " What thou knowest not now, thou shalt know hereafter." Either line, when it crosses the border of this life, " passeth all understanding." I suppose it is as completely impossible for a human heart to conceive what God hath prepared for them that hate him, as to conceive what he hath prepared for them that love him. It is eminently noteworthy here, that the clearest, most articulate, and most emphatic announcements regarding the positive punishment of the wicked in a future world which the Scriptures contain, were spoken, and spoken repeatedly, by the lips of the Lord Jesus. Wherefore ? Did the love of the Redeemer sometimes wax cold ? Did even he, through the provocations that he met in his ministry, sometimes forget to be gracious ? No ; never at any time did his heart melt more with tenderness for men than when he proclaimed that the wicked shall be cast into outer darkness. He not only intimated, as in THE DRAW-NET. 183 this parable, that such sentence would be pronounced but declared that himself would pronounce it : " When the Son of man shall come in his glory . . ; . then shall he say unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels" (Matt. xxv. 31-41). He who uttered these words pitied and loved sinners ; he loved them while he spoke these words ; he loved them although he spoke these words ; — because he loved them, he spoke these words. The thing which these words declare is true : Christ did not change the eternal law of God that evil shall not dwell in his presence : since this law remains beyond the line of the present world to meet every man as he enters eternity, it was kind to give us warning. It would have been unkind, and therefore unlike the Lord, to conceal the dreadful fact, and leave unwarned sinners to learn it first by feeling it. It was love, overflowing love in the heart of our Brother, that drew these warnings repeatedly from his lips. The reason why he tells us that the wicked shall be cast away, is that we may never be cast away. The good Shepherd would compel the sheep to flee to the fold by sending out his terrors, when they refused to be more gently led. There is a machine in the Bank of England which re- ceives sovereigns, as a mill receives grain, for the purpose of determining wholesale whether all are of full weight. As they pass through, the machinery, by unerring laws, throws all that are light to one side, and all that are of full weight to another. That process is a silent but solemn parable for me. Founded as it is upon the laws of nature, it affords the most vivid similitude of the cer- tainty which characterizes the judgment of the great day. There are no mistakes or partialities to which the light 1 84 THE DRA W-NET. may trust : the only hope lies in being of standard weight before they go in. I gratefully recognise tender, overflowing love, in the faithful testimony of Christ regarding the punishment of the wicked : it is meant to compel sinners now to take refuge in his righteousness.* * Amdt closes his exposition of this parable with a hymn, which I sub- join, not only for the sake of the doctrinal statement regarding the ground of a sinner's hope contained in the first verse, but also, and still more, for the union of simplicity and solemnity in the conception of future punish- ment contained in the second : — Christi Blut und Gerechtigkeit, Das ist mein Schmuck und Ehrenkleid ; Damit will ich vor Gott besteh'n Und zu der Himmelsfreud' eingeh'n. Hilf, Gott, dass yeder kommen mag, Wo tausend Vahr' ist wie ein Tag : Vor dem Ort uns, O Gott, bewahr 7 , Wo ein Tag ist wie tausend Yahr' '. Christ's blood and righteousness Shall be the marriage-dress, In which I'll stand At God's right hand Forgiven, And enter rest Among the blest In heaven. Help, Lord, that we may come To thy saints' happy home, Where a thousand years As one day appears, Nor go, Where one day appears As a thousand years For woe. VIII. THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. ' A Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened unto a certain king, which would take account of his servants. And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him, which owed him ten thousand talents. But forasmuch as he had not to pay, his lord com- manded him to be sold, and his wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made. The servant therefore fell down, and worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee alL Then the lord of that servant was moved with compassion, and loosed him, and forgave him the debt. But the same servant went out, and found one of his fellow-servants, which owed him an hundred pence : and he laid hands on him, and took him by the throat, saying, Pay me that thou owest. And his fellow-servant fell down at his feet, and besought him, saying, Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. And he would not : but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay the debt. So when his fellow-servants saw what was done, they were very sorry, and came and told unto their lord all that was done. Then his lord, after that he had called him, said unto him, O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me : shouldest not thou also have had com- passion on thy fellow-servant, even as I had pity on thee ? And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto him. So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses." — Matt, xviii. 23-35. j HIS parable, and that of the Good Samaritan, as has been justly suggested by Fred. Arndt, although historically separate, are logically re- lated, like two branches that spring from one stem : together they express a Christian's duty to his brother in respect of injuries. When a brother inflicts an injury on you, forgive him ; when a brother suffers an injury from another, help him. Forgiving love is taught in this parable ; helpful love in the parable of the Good Samaritan. 186 THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. The immediate occasion of this parable is obviously Peter's question, " How oft shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him ?" but how Peter's question springs from the preceding context does not so readily appear. The Natural History of the process in that apostle's mind was probably something of this sort : The Master had instructed his disciples how they should act in the event of a brother doing them an injury : three distinct steps are indicated, rising one above another like courts of appeal ; first, a private remonstrance ; jf that prove unavailing, then a remonstrance in the presence of one or two witnesses ; and lastly, an appeal to the Church. These rules are very specific, and together constitute a complete code on the branch of the subject to which they refer. In the matter of dealing with an offending brother with the view of bringing him to a better mind, you can no further go : if all these efforts fail, you must separate yourself from the offender, lest by continued intimacy you should seem indifferent to his sin. After this the Lord proceeds to give instruction on other subjects, and espe- cially on united prayer. Peter, I suppose, had allowed his mind to be so completely occupied with the question of forgiving injuries, that he failed to follow his Teacher when the lesson glided into another theme. I could suppose him to have been so busy with the thought of injuries received, and the difficulty of forgiving them, all the time that the Lord was discoursing on united prayer, that he scarcely observed his Master's words. All the more readily might this happen, if the impetuous fisher- man had a quarrel with some of his neighbours on hand at the very time, and was exercised in conscience about the duty of bringing it to a close. At the first pause, the current which had been for a time flowing under ground, THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. 1 87 burst out on the surface. Taking up and again abruptly introducing the subject which had been for some time dismissed, he asked, as if unconscious that the theme had been changed during his reverie, " Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him ? Till seven times ?" He wanted to have a number specified, beyond which he should not be bound to forgive repeated offences. In suggesting seven he seems to have had in his mind some Pharisaical formula: probably he thought the allowance was liberal, and expected to be approved for his magnanimity. The formula, seventy times seven, while it serves to intimate that there is in the law no limit to the exercise of a forgiving spirit, seizes upon Peter's narrow proposal and makes a show of it openly. It is possible that he may have fallen into a mistake here through the misapprehen- sion of a lesson on the same subject given by the Lordi He may have heard the Master teach, as at Luke xvii. 4, — " If he trespass against thee seven times in a day, and seven times in a day turn again to thee, saying, I repent, thou shalt forgive him." But evidently the number seven in that discourse has substantially the same meaning with seventy times seven here: seven times a day, even when literally understood, includes as much as the ab- solute seventy times seven. The doctrine in both cases is that it is not lawful to set any limit to the principle and the practice of forgiving injuries. To repeat, expand, and enforce this lesson, the parable is introduced. The kingdom of heaven is like a man king — avOpanru) fiacrtXei. Expressly, the divine is in this re- spect analogous to the human. This ruler proposed to take account of his servants. It.was not the final reckon- ing, but a periodical balance. A king is in this respect 188 THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. like a merchant: he takes account from time to time of his. own affairs, and the intromissions of his servants. " Short counts make long friends." These servants were not slaves, the property of their master ; for afterwards it is assumed that he may sell them, not as an ordinary right, but as the special penalty incurred by an insolvent debtor. A king, in ancient times and oriental regions, entered into pecuniary transactions with his servants on a great scale. One man, who owes all to the personal favour of the sovereign, is the governor of a wealthy province. Bound by no written law, and living at a distance from the seat of government, that servant possesses always the power, and too frequently seizes the opportunity of oppressing the people on the one hand, and defrauding the royal treasury on the other. In many cases fortunate or powerful dependants farmed the taxes of a district, paying, or at least promising to pay, a certain sum yearly to the supreme government, and obtaining authority in return to levy contributions on the inhabitants for their own behoof, sometimes almost accord- ing to their own pleasure. Vast sums passed through the hands of these great officers, and vast sums also remained in their hands that should have passed through them. The amount specified in the parable — ten thousand talents — is very great, of whatever species you may suppose the talent to be. The inquiry which has been prosecuted with a view to determine precisely the value of the talent in this case is difficult, and does not lead to any certain or important result. The question is interest- ing to Biblical scholars and antiquarians, but the solution of it is by no means necessary to the perception or the application of our Lord's meaning in the parable. The sense is completely obtained by taking the ten thousand THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. 189 talents as a vast but indefinite sum. A hundred talents of silver constituted the hire of a great army, 2 Chron. xxv. 6 ; and notwithstanding the lavish use of gold in the construction of the Tent-Temple in the wilderness, only twenty-nine talents were employed in all (Ex. xxxviii. 24) Besides the distinction between gold and silver, othei variations occur in the value of a talent, depending upon time, place, and other circumstances. In any view of its worth, however, the disparity between the sum which this servant owed to the master, and the trifling amount which a fellow-servant owed to him, is as great as the imagina- tion can effectually grasp; larger numbers would not sensibly intensify the impression. " One was brought to him :" this servant would not have come to the king of his own accord ; but he could not escape the interview and the reckoning. Aware of his enormous debt, he would fain have kept out of his master's way, but could not. God looks on the heart, and grasps the conscience, whether the man will or be unwilling. The punishment is very severe, but in accordance with law and custom. No complaint is made against the sentence as if it were unjust in principle, or excessive in degree: the culprit appeals only to the mercy of the judge, and thus the righteousness of the verdict is tacitly acknowledged. \ His promise to pay means nothing more than his desire to escape. He made the promise, not in the expectation of being able to perform it, but as the most likely means of escaping from, punishment. His worship was prompted by selfish fear, not by filial love. He did not know his master's heart: he thought he would gain his object most readily by leading the king to expect payment in full. I go THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT, The king did not grant his servant's request: he did more ; he forgave that servant all. The absolved debtor; as soon as he obtained his liberty, went out, and met a fellow-servant, who owed him an hundred pence. I suppose, if that fellow-servant had come to him while yet he was in his master's presence, he would not have dared to act the tyrant ; but " out of sight, out of mind." He forgot his own prayer, and his lord's compassion. He grasped the fellow-servant by the throat and threw him into prison, until he should pay.* The amount is com- paratively small, as is fit between servant and servant: the smallness of the debt brings the cruelty of the creditor out in high relief. His neighbour's pleading is expressed in the same terms as his own: the sound should have reminded him of his duty. Fellow-servants observing the outrage were at once indignant and compassionate. They informed their master. The master displeased, pronounced his condem- nation in full. He who showed no mercy to his brother received judgment without mercy for himself. Before proceeding to the exposition of the parable in its spiritual meaning and application, I shall submit a remark of a general character, bearing on the parables at large, as well as on this in particular, which can be made more conveniently now than at the close. The more I examine the structure and use of the parable in the teaching of the Lord, the more I am convinced that men make a great mistake when they betake themselves to a single feature of the natural scene as a defence of * Die am meisten geschont sind erweisen sich als die Schonungslosesten. Unter den Fliigeln der Zartlichkeit wird die Grausamkeit ausgebriitet (Those who get most mercy give least ; and cruelty is hatched under the wings of tenderness). — Dritieke vom Retch Gotta, ii. 141. THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. 191 some specific and controverted dogma. The rule may be made absolute, or if there are exceptions they are few that the parables are intended to expand, illustrate, and enforce what is elsewhere clearly taught in the Scriptures, and not themselves to constitute the grounds or evidences of the doctrines. But to whatever extent such a general rule may be applicable, it is most certain that those who run to a corner of a parable and take their stand on it, as, impregnable evidence of some doctrine which they hold, are in all cases egregiously mistaken. The controversies, for example, on the question of Church discipline, which were made to turn on the tares among the wheat, and the net that caught all kinds of fishes, are a mere waste of words. Those parables do not afford material for the decision of the question ; they do not speak to the point. In like manner, when theologians gravely refer to this parable in order to prove that after a man's sins have been all freely forgiven by God, he may yet fall from grace, and the guilt of all his sins be laid upon him at the last, they waste their own time, and trifle with the scripture. True, in this picture you see one whose great debt was all freely forgiven by the master brought back into judgment, and made answerable for the whole amount ; but this incidental feature of a human procedure will not bear the weight which men would fain lay on it. This king, whose conduct is represented in the parable, is expressly called a man king. No doubt his procedure in that case is employed to illustrate some laws of the kingdom of heaven ; but this is done by analogy. Analogy is not identity; the very essence of it lies in coincidence in some points, with diversity in others; if the two were identical, there were no longer an analogy. Take two pictures of a person printed from the same negative photograph ; you do not 192 THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. say they are like each other, they are the same. It is most dangerous to fasten on any point of the depicted human procedure, and found on it the affirmation that the divine must be precisely the same. But besides this general consideration demanding caution, there is enough in the parable itself absolutely to refute the notion, that God may forgive a man all his sins, and thereafter lay these very sins all to his charge. It is indeed said in the earlier portion of the parable that the lord of that servant forgave him the debt; but it is as clearly indicated in the close that the debt was not for- given. The man was cast into prison until he should pay it all ; he was held bound for all the original debt, and was punished accordingly. If he was forgiven all that debt, not one penny of it can afterwards be placed to his account; and if it is afterwards placed to his ac- count, the fact proves that it had not been forgiven. The meaning of the phraseology must be determined by the necessary conditions of the fact. That word of the king, " I forgive thee," was not a discharge ; if it had been, mere justice demanded that the debt discharged should not be charged again. The fact that it was all charged again, proves irrefragably that it was not dis- charged. The meaning in the light of the facts must be that these terms were offered by the king. His terms are free forgiveness, bestowed in sovereign love by the giver, and accepted in grateful love by the receiver. The servant, as is shown by his conduct, did not accept these terms, and so there was no transaction. The key-notes of the parable are found at the begin- ning and the end. It was spoken in order to show that a man should set no limit to the forgiveness of injuries;; THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. 193 and in order to show this, the parable goes into the deep things of God. It shows that the motive power which can produce in man an unlimited forgiveness of his brother, is God's mercy forgiving himself. At the close it lays down the law, that the act or habit of extending forgive- ness to a brother, is a necessary effect of receiving forgive- ness from God. If you get pardon from God, you will give it to your brother; if you withhold it from your brother, you thereby make it manifest that you have not gotten it from God. As the king determined to take account of his servants during the currency of their work, and before the final winding up of their engagement, so the King Eternal in various ways and at various periods takes account of men, especially of those who know his word, and belong externally to his Church. One by one the servants are brought into their Lord's presence. The messenger that brings them may be a commercial crisis, a personal afflic- tion, or a revival in the neighbourhood. The King has many messengers at his command, and he employs now one and now another to bring a professing Christian for- ward to his presence. When one who has contrived to keep out of the way, both of his own conscience and of God, is at length compelled to open his heart to the Omniscient, and fairly look into it himself, he discovers that his debt is unspeakably, inconceivably great. The sum of ten thousand talents in the picture is not an exag- geration ; it does not indicate all the guilt which God detects in the conscience, and which the awakened con- science detects in itself. It is a dreadful moment when a sinner is brought face to face with God, and charged with his guilt; it is then that the law performs its terrible yet merciful work of conviction. (9 > 13 194 THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. The first purpose that springs in the heart of the alarmed transgressor is to satisfy the demand : Give me time, and I will pay all. Whether he deliberately expects to be able to pay it may be doubted ; but one thing is clear, he thinks that nothing else will appease the Master, and he makes the promise accordingly. This is, in point of fact, the first proposal of an alarmed conscience, " I will pay thee all." The natural history of the process is here. God does not hold the convicted transgressor to his own rash promise. Treating the criminal, not according to his desert, but according to his need, the Judge an- nounces the terms of his own covenant — a pardon imme- diate, complete, and free. "The same servant went out:" the moment of close deal- ing between God and the soul has passed : the man who has trembled at the sight of his sin, and the prospect of judgment, has heard the Gospel, and gotten a respite. He goes out from that solemn and searching communion : he is released for the moment from the presence of the Judge, and from the sense of his sin. He glides again into the world. He has not been converted ; he has only been frightened. He has not been forgiven; he has only been respited. He has not accepted God's grace, and therefore is not under law to God. The fright is past, and faith has not taken its place. The heart, after terror had driven the evil spirits out, does not open to the Lord, and therefore the evil spirits come back, and possess the empty room in sevenfold power. As soon as he comes in the way of temptation, the unsubdued car- nality of his soul asserts its life and power. A fellow- servant who has in small matters offended him, begs for pardon, as he had done from God. and begs in vain. He THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. 195 shows no mercy ; the fact proves that he has not him- self accepted the mercy that was offered by God. II the channel of his heart had really been inserted into the fountain-head of mercy for receiving, mercy would infallibly have flowed in the way of giving, wherever the need of a brother made an opening ; if the vessel had been charged, it would certainly have discharged. No compassion flowed from that heart to refresh a fellow- creature in distress, because that heart had never truly opened to accept mercy from God; the reservoir was empty, and therefore the outbranching channels re- mained dry. * Beyond all question, the design of the Lord in this parable is to enforce the duty of forgiving one another. In teaching this lesson, he touches matters greater than itself; but these occupy here only a secondary place. The drift of the parable is to take off the artificial limit laid by Peter, and by the Pharisees before him, on the disposition to forgive an offending brother, and to leave it limitless, — infinite, as far as the faculties and the time of men can reach. I think the substance of the lesson may be expressed in these two words, the practice and the principle of for- giving injuries. These two are in effect the ultimate act and the secret power that produced it. They are at once distinguished and united in that new commandment which Jesus gave to his disciples, — " That ye love one an- other, as I have loved you" (John xiii. 34). The first * Draseke expresses the same conception in his own peculiarly terse and antithetic way : — So gewiss kein Gottesreich ohne die Schulderlassung die wir empfangen ; so gewiss kein Gottesreich ohne die Schulderlassung die wir leisten. (As certainly as there is no kingdom of God without the for- giveness which we receive, so certainly there is no kingdom of God without the forgiveness which we bestow.) — ii. 147. 196 THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. part of that commandment tells what they ought to do, and the second part tells what will make them do it. It is when they place themselves under the power of Christ's forgiving love to themselves, that they are impelled in turn to forgive each his brother. The duty corresponds to the moving machinery, and the motive to the stream of living water which makes the machinery go. 1. The practice of forgiving injuries. The terms em- ployed indicate clearly enough that the injuries which man suffers from his fellow are trifling in amount, espe- cially in comparison of each man's guilt in the sight of God. There is a meaning in the vast and startling differ- ence between ten thousand talents and a hundred pence. Even when the injury is the greatest that human beings are capable of inflicting on the one side, and enduring on the other; even when an enemy has killed the body and ceased then, because he has no more that he can do, it is still a measurable thing. Love in a finite being's heart may swell high over it, and exult in bestowing forgive- ness on the murderer with the victim's dying breath. In the beginning of the Gospel a vivid example of that very thing stands recorded : " Lord," said Stephen with faint- ing heart and failing breath, " Lord, lay not this sin to their charge." Great as the injury was, according to earthly measurements, the imperfect love that lived in a man's heart was more than a match for it, and the martyr with his dying breath forgave his murderers. But how rare are those injuries that rise to this extreme height! Most of the injuries with which we are called to deal are small, even in relation to human capacity : they are very often precisely of the size that our own temper makes them. Some people possess the art of esteeming great injuries small, and some the art of esteeming small THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. 19? injuries great. The first is like a traveller who throws a great many stones out of the burden which he carries, and so walks with ease along the road ; the other is like a traveller who gathers a great many stones on the way- side, and adds them to his burden, and is therefore soon crushed by the load. But more than this : the foolish man who made his burden heavier, retains the redoubled weight upon his back; while the wise man who made his burden lighter, contrives to throw off even the smaller weight that re- mained. The same spirit that induced the suffering Christian to diminish his estimate of the injury, induces him to forgive even that which remains, and thus he gets quit of it altogether; for to forgive it, is equivalent to throwing it away, in as far as it had power to burden or irritate you. On the other hand, the same spirit which in an irritable man magnified and multiplied the actual injury which he received, prevents him from forgiving the great and exaggerated mass; thus in effect he is crushed under the accumulated weight of all the real in- jury he has sustained, and all the imaginary injury he has added. The compassionate, loving man, who counted the great injury small, was relieved even of that small remnant by forgiving it: the selfish, unloving man, who counted a small injury great, could not forgive his neighbour, and so was compelled to bear the heavy bur- den on his heart. In this case that sublime rule of the Scripture takes effect : " To him that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance ; but from him that hath not shall be taken even that which he hath." * * Fred. Arndt puts the lesson warmly and well ; his appeal is in sub- stance this: — "A man without compassion has all against him, God and the world ; and meets as many adversaries in judgment as he had associates 198 THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. But we must carefully discriminate here, and ascertain what the Lord means by forgiving a brother. There should not be a little, narrow, grudging forgiveness ; it should be large, loving, and free. But parallel with for- giveness there must be faithfulness. Faithfulness to the evil-doer himself, and to the community, comes in here to modify, not the nature, but the outward form of forgiving. For example, there is no virtue in simply permitting a man to wrong you as often as he chooses, — forgiving him and doing nothing more. In the immediately preceding context the Lord has taught that the injured should tell the injurer his fault. Tell him faithfully in secret his sin: if he repent, thou hast gained thy brother : if he do not listen, tell it in the presence of two or three witnesses : if he is in life. Woe to him who is arraigned in secret by the tears of the feeble and oppressed ! The sighs which he has pressed out, the plaints which he has generated, cry up to heaven against him, and their echo clangs horrid from heaven down again upon the life of the loveless and revengeful And can we sleep in peace another hour, as long as there are men upon the earth with whom we live in unpeace and enmity? Cannot be written the happiness, the inward bliss of the peaceful and peace-making. Revenge, indeed, seems often sweet to men ; but, oh, it is only sugared poison, only sweetened gall, and its after taste is bitter as helL Forgiving, endur- ing love alone is sweet and blissful ; it enjoys peace and the consciousness of God's favour. By forgiving, it gives away and annihilates the injury. It treats the injurer as if he had not injured, and therefore feels no more the smart and sting that he had inflicted. Forgiveness is a shield from which all the fiery darts of the wicked one harmless rebound. Forgiveness brings heaven to earth, and heaven's peace into the sinful heart Forgiveness is the image of God, the forgiving Father, and an advancement of Christ's kingdom in the world. Your unalterable duty is clear : as surely as we are Christians, men who have experienced great compassion, who see in every man a brother in Christ, and are going forward to God's righteous judg- ment, so surely we must forgive. Of no commandment will the fulfilment be demanded of us with such stringency, no divine rule so strictly enforced as this, without the slightest exception to leave a loop-hole of hope to the transgressor. If we forgive not those who injure us, neither will out heavenly Father forgive us ; and this would be the greatest calamity that could befall us in time and in eternity." — Die vergebende Liebe ; oderGleich- niss vom Schalksknahi. THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. 199 still obdurate, tell it to the Church : and if he refuse to hear the Church withdraw from his company ; let him and all the world know that you do not make light of his -sin. Again, in some kinds of injury, it becomes your duty for the sake of the community to aid in bringing the criminal to justice. To bring the discipline of the right- eous law upon the criminal, is not revenge : to shield him from its stroke is not love. So far from being necessarily inconsistent with forgiveness, such faithful- ness in action may be associated with a Christ-like love to the sinner, and a thorough forgiveness of his sin, as an injury inflicted upon you. Here is a side on which there is much room for ad- vancement: let us forget the things that lie behind us on this path, and reach forward to higher attainments. In as far as Christians unite faithfulness and tenderness in their treatment of evil-doers, they become " imitators of God, as dear children." 2.' The PRINCIPLE of forgiving injuries. Suppose that the methods for practice are accurately laid down, where shall we find a sufficient motive ? Suppose that an un- exceptionable machinery has been constructed, whence shall we obtain an adequate force to set it in motion ? From an upper spring in heaven the motive power must flow; it can be supplied only by God's forgiving love, on us bestowed and by us accepted. When, like little closed vessels, we are charged by union with the fountain- head, forgiving love to erring brothers will burst spon- taneously from our hearts at every opportunity that opens in the intercourse of life. The express command of Him who redeemed us is, " Love one another, as I have loved you." In teaching his disciples how to pray, he linked their promise to for- 2O0 THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. give with their plea . for forgiveness, so that no prayer of theirs should rise to heaven for receiving pardon unless it were accompanied by an engagement expressed or im- plied to bestow pardon : " Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors." But there is much more in the connection between receiving and bestowing forgiveness than can be ex- pressed by the conception of yielding to the pressure of a motive. It is not only obedience to a command en- joined ; it is the exercise of an instinct that has been generated in the new nature. The method in which this and other graces operate is expressed by an apostle thus : " It is no more I that live, but Christ that liveth in me." When Christ is in you, he is in you not only the hope of glory, but also the forgiving of an erring brother. A traveller in Burmah, after fording a certain river, found his body covered all over by a swarm of small leeches, busily sucking his blood. His first impulse was to tear the tormentors from his flesh: but his servant warned him that to pull them off by mechanical violence would expose his life to danger. They must not be torn off, lest portions remain in the wounds and become a poison ; they must drop off spontaneously, and so they will be harmless. The native forthwith prepared a bath for his master, by the decoction of some herbs, and directed him to lie down in it. As soon as he had bathed in the balsam the leeches dropped off. Each unforgiven injury rankling in the heart is like a leech sucking the life-blood. Mere human determination to have done with it, will not cast the evil thing away. You must bathe your whole being in God's pardoning mercy ; and these venomous creatures will instantly let go their hold. You will stand up free. THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. 201 Two wheels protrude from a factory, and are seen in motion on the outer wall by every passenger. They move into each other. The upper wheel is large, the under small. From without and at a distance, you can- not tell whether the upper is impelling the under, or the under moving the upper. This question, however, might be settled by an inspection of the interior. By such an inspection it would be found that the larger and higher wheel communicates motion to the lower and smaller. If the upper wheel, which communicates the motion, should stand still, so also would the lower : but more than this, — if the lower wheel, which receives the motion, should by some impediment be stopped, the upper wheel also would stand still. It is in some such way that God's goodness in forgiving freely for Christ's sake our sins, impels us to forgive from the heart those that have trespassed against us. The power is all from above ; yet, though we by our goodness do not set the beneficent machinery in motion, we may by our badness cause it all to stand still. It is not our forgiveness accorded to an evil-doer that procures forgive- ness to ourselves from God ; the opposite is the truth : yet our refusal of forgiveness to a brother prevents the flow of pardon down from God to our guilty hearts. Such is the structure of the covenant. It is only a small part of that covenant that we can comprehend ; but, as far as we are able to perceive its provisions, behold, they are very good ! While a few acres of cold barren moorland constitute all your heritage, if a neighbour encroaches on it by a hair's-breadth, you assert your right and repel the aggres- sion : possibly you may, in your zeal, accuse him of an intention to trespass, if you see him digging his own 202 THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. ground near your border. While your property is very small, you are afraid of losing any of it ; and perhaps you cry out before you are hurt. But if you become heir to a broad estate in a fertile valley, you will no longer be disposed to watch the motions of your neighbour, and go to law with him for a spadeful of moss that he may have taken from a disputed spot. Thus, while a human soul has no other portion than an uncertain shred of this uncertain world, he is kept in terror lest an atom of his property should be lost ; he will do battle with all his might against any one who is, or seems to be, encroaching on his honour, or business, or property : but when he becomes a child of God, and an heir of an incorruptible inheritance — when he is a prince on the steps of a throne, he can afford to overlook small deductions from a possession that is insignificant in itself, and liable to be taken away at any time without an hour's warning. In this aspect it is eminently worthy of notice that the dis- ciples, when their Master on another occasion (Luke xvii. 3-5), taught them a similar doctrine on the forgiveness oi injuries, immediately exclaimed, "Increase our faith." They seem to have been surprised by the extent of the demand, and conscious of their inability to meet it. As soon as the duty of forgiving injuries was laid before them in its true magnitude, they were brought to a stand ; but they had sense to know wherein their weakness lay, and simplicity to seek in the proper quarter for renewed strength. It was a true instinct that led them, then and there, to plead for an increase of faith. A wider, freer channel for the inflow of God's compassion into their own hearts, — this is what they need in the emergency, and this is what they get from the Lord. THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT. 203 The miller, rinding that some of the lumps are large and hard, and that the mill-stones are consequently almost standing still, goes quietly out and lets more water on. Go you, and do likewise. When injuries that seem large and hard are accumulated on your head, and the process of forgiving them begins to choke and go slow under the pressure, as if it would soon stop alto- gether ; when the demand for forgiveness grows great, and the forgiving power in the heart is unable to meet it ; — then, enter into your closet and shut your door, and pray to your Father specifically for more experience of his for- giving love ; so shall your forgiving love grow stronger, and overcome every obstacle that stands in its way. Your heart, under the fresh impulse of pardon to you through the blood of the covenant, will toss off with ease the load of impediments that obstructed for a time its movements, and you will forgive even as you have been forgiven. IX. THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. " For the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which went oul early in the morning to hire labourers into his vineyard. And when he had agreed with the labourers for a penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And he went out about the third hour, and saw others standing idle in the market-place, and said unto them ; Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is right I will give you. And they went their way. Again he went out about the sixth and ninth hour, and did likewise. And about the eleventh hour he went out, and found others standing idle, and saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle? They say unto him, Because no man hath hired us. He saith unto them, Go ye also into the vineyard ; and whatsoever is right, that shall ye receive. So when even was come, the lord of the vineyard saith unto his steward, Call the labourers, and give them their hire, begin- ning from the last unto the first. And when they came that were hired about the eleventh hour, they received every man a penny. But when the first came, they sup- posed that they should have received more ; and they likewise received every man a penny. And when they had received it, they murmured against the goodman of the house, saying, These last have wrought but one hour, and thou hast made them equal unto us, which have borne the burden and heat of the day. But he answered one of them, and said, Friend, I do thee no wrong : didst not thou agree with me for apennyl Take that thine is, and go thy way : I will give unto this last, even as unto thee. Is it not lawful for me to do what I will with mine own 1 Is thine eye evil, because I am good ? So the last shall be first, and the first last : for many be called, but few chosen. — Matt. xx. 1-16. jlGAIN the heavenly kingdom is compared to the proceedings of a human householder. While in fertile plains, like Esdraelon, the grain-field was the Hebrew husbandman's chief care, on the mountain sides, the vineyards were the most valuable property, and required the greatest amount of labour. The steepness of the slopes on which the vine grows best, greatly increases the owner's toil. In many cases the terraces must be supported by strong stonewalls; and THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. 205 not only must the manure be carried on men's shoulders up the steep, but in some cases even the soil itself is carried up in the same way, and laid upon the bare rocks. Different kinds of work are required in vineyards at different seasons. In spring they prepare the soil ; in summer they prune and tie up the vine branches ; and in autumn all the joyous labour of the vintage comes sud- denly on. Looking to the circumstance in the parable, that the labourers who began early counted much on having borne the heat of the day, we might be inclined to suppose that the scene is laid in the middle of summer; but the fact that the householder required so many labourers and hired all that he could find, points rather to the vintage in the end of autumn. The master went out early in the morning to hire labourers. There was some spot, doubtless, recognised both by masters and men, as the common meeting-place for those who needed work, and those who needed work- men, — the Cross or the Buchts * of that place and day. This husbandman at once engaged all the men that he found, and sent them into his vineyard to begin work at six in the morning, — the first hour of the Jewish day. The terms were arranged beforehand, — a penny a day. The Roirjan denarius is reckoned equal to sevenpence half-penny of our money; but obviously it was considered the 'ordinary rate of a labourer's wages at the time. /Again at nine o'clock the husbandman went to the /market-place, and finding some unemployed men, sent them also to work in his vineyard. Again at mid-day, * The name of a great trystmg place for selling cattle and hiring men and women on the eastern outskirts of the city of Glasgow, where the two opera- tions resemble each other too closely for the credit of our institutions or the safety of society. 206 THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. and yet once more at five o'clock in the afternoon he went out, and finding men on each occasion loitering about the market-place, he sent them also into the vineyard. In these cases, however, as was meet when the day was broken, the master did not promise any specific rate of wages ; and themen, thankful for an opportunity of turning- to some profitable account a day which would otherwise have been wholly lost, were content to accept whatever he might be pleased to give. About six o'clock in the evening, — earlier or later according to the season of the year and the consequent duration of daylight at the time, — work in the vineyard ceased for the day, and each labourer, called forward in turn by the steward, received his wages in the master's presence.* The steward, acting doubtless under special instructions, called first the men who had entered the vineyard at five, and quitted it at six, and gave each a penny for his hour's work. Surprised by the munificence of their employer, these men retire towards their homes with silent gratitude. Afterwards those who had laboured one-half, and those who had laboured three-fourths of the day, were called in succession, and each received also a penny. Last of all came the men who had laboured from morning till night. They had been standing near, and had observed that all their fellow-labourers, not excepting even those who had been employed only an hour, received the same uniform reward, each man a penny. As this process was going on, they cherished in silence the expec-"> tation that when their turn should come, they would receive more of the master's money, because they had done more of his work. But the steward, evidently acting * By law, wages for the work of the day must be paid the same evening (Deut. xxiv. 15). THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. 207 on precise orders, gave each of these men also a penny, and no more. No longer able to conceal their disappoint- ment, although they were well aware that they had no legal claim for more than they had received, they broke out into murmurs against their employer. Of course, he closed their mouths in a moment : he had completely ful- filled his agreement with them, and they had no right to interfere with his spontaneous generosity, whenever and towards whomsoever he might choose to exercise it. Here, again, the key-notes of the parable are found at the beginning and at the end- The direct and immediate occasion of the discourse lies in Peter's question at the 27th verse of the nineteenth chapter, " We have forsaken all and followed thee : what shall we have therefore ? " But as the parable sprang from Peter's question, so Peter's question sprang from an antecedent fact. To that fact, accordingly, we must look as the true ultimate root on which the parable grows. As Jesus was going about in the Father's business, attended by the twelve, a young man came running for- ward to him, bending the knee in token of reverence (Mark x. 17), and asking, " Good master, what good thing shall I do that I may inherit eternal life?" Accommodat- ing his lesson to the condition of the learner's heart, the Lord saw meet, at the close of his discourse, to lay a specific cross on this promising disciple, in order at once to reach and eradicate the specific disease that threatened the life of his soul,— -"Sell all that thou hast, and come, follow me." The young man loved the world more than Christ : compelled to make his choice, he cleaved to the portion that he loved best. When by the sovereign act of the Lord he was placed in such a position that he could not enjoy both portions, he parted with the Saviour and J08 THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. clung to his wealth. Peter and the rest of the apostles listened and looked on, during this decisive interview : they gazed after the youth, perhaps with tears, as he slowly and sorrowfully withdrew. But their Lord did not leave the impressive fact to sink into their minds in silence : He interposed at the moment, to print the lesson permanently on their hearts, " How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of heaven!" "Then answered Peter;" — as usual this impetuous man burst suddenly into a speech upon the point in hand, before he had well considered what he was about to say. For one thing, there is no deceit in Peter's question ; he thinks aloud, and his thought is one of intense and undisguised self-conceit. The spirit of the Pharisee was there, " Lord, I thank thee that I am not as other men." His heart at this moment was undisguisedly mercenary ; his eye was on the main chance. We have done and suffered so much for God ; what return may we expect for our services ? That young rich man would not part with his portion in this world, in order to follow Christ : Peter, thereupon, made a most comfortable comparison between himself and the undecided youth, and expressed a hope that his own great devotion would not be overlooked in the day of reward. I sometimes think the Papists acted wisely in making Peter the first Pope. He serves better as a type for them than any one of the twelve, unless they had gone all the way and chosen Judas. None of the true men were so forward as Peter in giving their judgment, or so frequently wrong. The reply of our Lord to Peter's self-righteous demand is twofold. First, he owns and reiterates the truth that all labourers in his kingdom will be rewarded ; and next THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. 209 corrects the abuse of that principle into which a self- pleasing human heart is apt to fall. In the discourse recorded at the close of the nineteenth chapter, he teaches the cheering truth that the Lord will richly reward the services of his people, and in the subsequent parable gives to them and us a solemn admonition against the error into which Peter had been for the moment betrayed. The positive doctrine regarding compensation for all sacrifices and wages for all work needs only to be read in the memorable words of Jesus, as the evangelist has recorded them here. Notwithstanding the incrustations of ignorant self-righteousness that now and then covered and disfigured their faith, these Galileans have in very deed left all for Christ, and shall all in very deed receive from Christ a hundred-fold. Even Peter's own decisive life-act, — his consecration to Jesus, was a higher and purer thing than his own foolish words at this time would represent it to have been. It was not with a mercenary eye to a subsequent equivalent that he left his nets and followed Jesus. That self-devotion in the simplicity of faith will be gloriously recompensed, notwithstanding the subsequent slips that dishonour the disciple and grieve the Master; but Peter, and through him all men, must be clearly taught that work done for the sake of the reward is not owned in the kingdom of heaven.* * These two are thus united and distinguished by Draseke, — " Although the kingdom of God is God's gift in the souls of men, yet without a worthi- ness in men it can neither begin nor continue, neither reveal nor develop itself And again, although our worthiness is necessary, we nevertheless obtain the kingdom, not through the merit of works, but from the fulness of grace, yea, from that alone. In short, the kingdom demands workers ; hirelings it disdains (das Reich verlangt Arbeiter ; Soldlinge verschmaht es). .... Thus it stands shut against the hireling, open to the worker. Not as though the kingdom needed thy labour. He who makes the winds his mes- (9) 14 S 10 THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. Every one that hath forsaken earthly possessions for Christ's sake shall receive an hundred-fold, and shall inherit everlasting life, — " But many that are first shall be last, and the last first." This short antithetic sentence is the very gate by which we enter into the meaning of the parable; if we rightly comprehend it, we rightly comprehend all. It is neces- sary to determine here the connection between this sentence and the doctrine which is taught in the imme- diately preceding verses. While the Lord undertakes that service and sacrifice in his cause will be rewarded, he warns his disciples in the next breath that those who labour longest, or produce the greatest quantity of work, do not in every case, and necessarily, receive the highest reward. In his kingdom the reward is not measured only and always by the length of the service or the quantity of work ; many who are first as to the amount of work done will be last as to the amount of recompense received. A lesson drawn from this scriptural principle may be legitimately addressed to those who are not within the kingdom, but I think the Master in this parable primarily intends to draw distinctions, not between those who are within and those who are without, but between two classes sengers and the flames his servants, can do without thy hand-work, little man. Thy labour avails not ; but that thou shouldest be a labourer, that thou shouldest have a mind for God, and through that mind shouldest elevate thy life into a free and joyful service of him— that avails." — Vom Reich Gottes, ii. 40, 42. Remarkable is the construction of the chain by which this writer connects the poor unemployed men who were standing idle in the market-place with the ever-during, ever-increasing satisfaction of their souls in eternity.. So verlangt das Reich Arbeiter, nicht Sbldlinge. Es beruft die Arbeitlosen. Es stellt die Berufenen an. Es beschaftigt die Angestelleten. Es iibt die Beschaftigten. Es belohnt die Geiibten. Es geniigt den Belohnten. Und Gniige wahrt ewig; wachst ewig. — ii. 51. THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. 211 of genuine disciples, — between those who simply trust in the Lord and serve him in love, and those who, although also in the main believers, allow the leaven of self-righteousness to creep in and mar the simplicity of their faith* It is not said that those who are first in the quantity of work shall all or uniformly be last in the measure of reward, but "many" that are first shall be last. Some who are foremost in the amount of service may also be most free from the self-righteous spirit, and some who have laboured least may also receive least if they do their little under the influence of a hireling's selfishness. The mean- ing is, that although you be first as to length of time and quantity of labour, if the leaven of self-righteousness mingle in your offering, you will be lowest in the Master's esteem, and least in the day of reward ; whereas, although you be last in point of time, and least in point of service, if you receive all from Christ's mercy, and ren- der all in love to Christ, you will be higher in the . end than some who seemed more energetic and successful workers. " For the kingdom of heaven is like unto a man that is a householder," &c. This picture will illustrate the truth which has been declared ; the householder repre- sents Christ, the vineyard his kingdom, and the labourers his servants. The main lesson of the parable concerns, not the way of redemption, but the service which the redeemed render to their Lord. The wages of the labourer represent the rewards which Christ confers upon his servants, but this must be taken with certain * On the other hand the text, Luke xiii. 30, although precisely similar to this in form, distinguishes, as may be seen from the context, between those who are within and those who are without 212 THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. explanations and limitations, especially these two. — (I.)' That the reward is partly a thing now begun, and partly something that is completed in heaven ; (2.) That the value of the reward depends essentially on the dis- position of heart with which the workman receives it. It is not necessary to determine whether the labourers who were first hired, and who laboured all the day, represent the Jews under the first dispensation, or those in the Christian Church who individually are converted in early youth, and continue in Christ's service throughout a long life, or those who, from special talent, or zeal, or op- portunity, do and suffer most for the Lord and his cause. The all-day labourers may represent all these classes, each in turn, and especially the last. We must not un- derstand exclusively by " the first" those who began first in point of time. The term indicates rather those who are first in the sense of being chief or greatest ; it points especially to those who were first in rank as having endured the greatest amount of loss, and done the greatest amount of work in Christ's cause. In the parable it is true those who were first sent into the vine- yard, in point of time, were chief among the labourers as to the quantity of labour contributed, but the time is only an accident. The matter truly brought into view is not the time, but the quantity of work. Time is here employed simply as a measure of quantity, for it is ob- viously assumed throughout that all the men performed equal amounts of labour in equal times. It conduces greatly to a clear conception of the whole lesson when you think of the first and last as indicating those who _djd and suffered most in Christ's cause and those who did and suffered least. Those who toiled only one hour or other larger fraction THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. 21 J of a working day had no contract as to amount of wages ; they entered the vineyard and laboured without a bar- gain. They did not know what wages they would be paid with, but they knew what master they were working for; they were prepared to accept whatever he might be pleased to bestow. In this respect they correctly represent the truest of Christ's disciples — those little-child Christians whom he sets up as a pattern for others. Those, on the other hand, who were first in point of time, and therefore first in point of quantity, made their bar- gain before they began. This is like disciples who slide back in some measure from the simplicity of faith and allow a mercenary motive to mingle in their devotions. Especially is it like Peter when, contrasting his own large sacrifices with the refusal of the young man to sacrifice anything, and counting himself first, while he looked down on others as last, he cunningly inquired, — Lord, what shall we get for leaving all and following thee ? In answer to his egotistical inquiry, he is informed , in plain terms that he is one of those first who shall be last. This, however, according to all the analogy of Scripture, is not, in regard to Peter or any individual disciple, an absolute prediction of what shall be, but a warning of what may be if the same spirit remain. Our Scottish forefathers at the period of the Reforma- tion suffered much for Christ ; some pined long in prison, some died at the stake. These were first, and we who contribute a few pounds to a missionary society, or teach a Sabbath school, or visit some poor families, are last in respect to "the quantity of our doing and suffering in the Saviour's cause. But if any of those first were proud of their sufferings, they will be last in the reward; and whosoever of these last give their mite io 214 THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. simple love to the Lord that bought them, will be first when he comes to bring home his own. Such is the structure of the parable that it must express the difference by giving one labourer not an absolutely but a comparatively greater amount of wages than an- other. The last are recompensed at a higher rate than the first, yet all go home with the same sum of money. But although the labourers are all equal in the absolute amount of wages received, the last are made higher than the first by a distinct addition to the pecuniary recom- pence — that is, a contented, loving, thankful mind. See the two groups of labourers as they severally wend their way home that evening. As to amount of money in their pockets, they are all equal : but as to amount of content in their spirits there is a great difference. The last go home each with a penny in his pocket, and astonished glad gratitude in his heart : their reward accordingly is a penny, and more. The first, on the con- trary, go home, each with a penny in his pocket, and' corroding discontent in his soul : their reward accordingly is less than a penny. Those who know how great a gain is godliness with contentment, and how small a gain is even godliness, when discontent is eating into it like rust, will allow that, while the labourers first and last alike had each his penny, yet the last were first and the first last in the real value of their reward. Considering that Peter is evidently designated as one of the first who shall be last, I cannot understand the parable otherwise than as showing differences among the disciples of Christ, — differences in simplicity of spirit while the labour lasts, and consequently in the value of the reward when the labour is done. As all the labourers get the wages of a day, so all who are represented by THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. 215 them, inherit the kingdom : but as one star differeth from another star in glory, so shall it be when Christ comes to gather all his own. They will wear the brightest crowns who thought most of their Redeemer's goodness, and least of their own sacrifice and work. The latter clause of the 16th verse, "for many be called^ but few chosen," being evidently attached to the parable as its application by the Lord, demands our earnest attention.* If we should understand by it, that many hear the call of the Gospel, but few are chosen by God and admitted through regeneration into his family, it would not be possible, as far as I can perceive, to assign to it any proper connection with the lesson of the parable. But by the terms in which this sentence is introduced, it is clearly intimated that it is the very conclusion and kernel, so to speak, of the doctrine which the parable was in- tended to convey. Whether we shall be able to under- stand . it or not, it certainly must be something precisely in the line of the preceding instructions. In that direction we must seek for its meaning ; for it is manifestly intro- duced as a gathering up in short and condensed form of all that the parable contained. The exposition suggested by Bengel is simple, con- sistent, and clear; and it is, I think, correct. Taking the * While in some cases the application of the parable which the Lord himself makes at the moment is full and perspicuous, it is in other cases like the parables themselves, and doubtless for good reasons, short, senten- tious, and partially veiled. In some cases the subjoined doctrine must be read in the light of the parable itself ere it can be understood. "Majus vero et certius auxilium interpreti paratur in illis locis, in quibus ipse Jesus sensum parabolarum explicat, quod quidem modo luculentius, ut in oratiort- ibus Mat. XIII. modo paucis tantum verbis fit. Saepe enim praemittituf vel subjungitur ab eo doctrina per parabolam prolata, quae tamen ipsa in- terdum paulo obscurius exprimitur, ita ut nisi per parabolam ipsam intelligi non possit." — Schultze de par. 86. 2l6 THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. term "called" as signifying not all to whom the call of the Gospel is addressed, but those only who are effectually called, — not those who only hear, but those who also obey the call, — taking the term in this sense, which is a sober and scriptural view, he finds that this is not a dis- tinction between saved and lost, but between two classes of the saved. The called and the chosen are both true disciples of Christ, and heirs of eternal life, and yet there is some distinction between them. Chosen must here therefore mean, what it did sometimes mean in ancient times, and does often mean still, the best of their kind. We constantly speak of choice or select articles, meaning the most excellent. The phrase, whether used proverbially before Christ's time or not, is in nature and structure proverbial. He either found it a proverb and used it, or he made it a proverb there and then, for such it essentially is. It seems to have been employed by the Lord on more than one occasion, and differently applied at different times. As we might say among a great number of manufactured articles, all true and genuine, "few are first-rate;" so, among a great number of real disciples, few stand out unselfish, unworldly, and Christ- like, honouring their Lord, and making the world wonder. Most, even of those who are disciples indeed, and shall inherit eternal life, are so marred by self-righteous ad- mixtures, and unsanctified temper, and conformity to the world, that their light is dim and their witness inarticulate. Peter, for example, was one of the called, in that he heard and obeyed Christ, and was saved ; but he was not a chosen or choice disciple, when he demanded of his Saviour what he should get for what he had done ; or when in the hour and power of darkness, he denied all connection with Jesus of Nazareth. Alas ' though there THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. 217 are many Christians, how few there are who forget the things behind, and press forward till they reach the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.* Some obvious practical lessons may be appended to the exposition. 1. Judge not. Let a man examine himself rather than his neighbour. When Peter saw the young man refusing to make a sacrifice for Christ, he complacently remem- bered his own sacrifices, and thought he had done remark- ably well. Ah, Peter, Satan desires to have thee that he may sift thee as wheat ; but what by the Master's rebukes addressed to him, and what by prayers poured out for him, he will be saved ; yet so as by fire. You left all, * In the transaction with the young man from which this parable remotely springs, an analogous expression is employed to indicate a chosen or choice disciple; "Jesus said unto him, If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast," &c. (xix. 21.) The term "perfect" in that text seems to be en- tirely parallel with " chosen." The meaning of both is determined by the main drift of the parable; and the meaning thus given accords with the analogy of faith. Another remarkable confirmation of this exposition is found in the use ot the same term, e/AenToi, in Rev. xvii. 14. The word in that passage must have the same meaning that we have attributed to it in the parable. Two reasons, a supreme and subordinate, are given to account for the victory of the Lamb, — his own omnipotence, and the trustworthy character of the instruments whom he employs. "The Lamb shall overcome them : for he is Lord of lords and King of kings : and they that are with him are called, and chosen, and faithful;" kXtjto! kciI iicXe/cml xal irusToi. If you under- stand here by IkXcktoI, chosen by God in the eternal covenant, the logical arrangement becomes obscure. It would be strange if, in enumerating the qualifications of soldiers, one should represent first that they were sum- moned to the warfare, next that they were chosen for that purpose before, and last that they were stanch in the battlefield. If this had been the meaning of (k\£ktoI it must have stood first in order. The fact that it stands second suggests another explanation. Take it, in the sense which it readily assumes and frequently bears, and the order of the series becomes at once transparent. The soldiers were "called, and choice, and faithful." They were enlisted in the cause, excellent in character, and found unflinch- ing when the fight began. *i8 THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. you say, to follow Jesus ; and how much was that ? a share in a boat and some nets, both probably the worse for wear. Ah, Peter, if you had been as rich as this young man, I am not sure whether you would not have done as he did, — gone away, sorrowful indeed, but away from Jesus ! Disciples of Christ that are poor, should beware of judging the disciples who are rich. You were enabled to break the tie that bound you to the earth ; and you see a neighbour struggling with the yoke still on his neck. Be not high-minded but fear. The line that bound you was a slender cord ; the line that binds that brother is a cart rope. He, if he is set free at a later day, may be first in the day of reward, and you last. 2. All whom the Lord meets and calls are sent to work, and all go. From the moment they meet the Master till the evening of life's labour-day, they work for him. They not only labour for the Lord, they labour " in the Lord." Thus it is not a pain but a pleasure ; it is their meat and their drink. God needs not our work, but we, for our own sakes, need work in his kingdom. He can find other servants ; but if we refuse his call we shall never finda"good Master." 3. The true spirit of a worker is love to the Master, and to the work for the Master's sake. The moment that a thought of merit glides into the servant's heart, it brings him down, not indeed from the number of true disciples, but from the highest to the lowest class there. Among the motives that, in these matters, sway a human heart, there are two forces equal and opposite : one is a humble, broken-hearted consciousness that you deserve nothing, and receive all free ; the other is a self- righteous conceit that your valuable services deserve a THE VINEYARD LABOURERS. 219 great reward. If this latter spirit is the main spring of your activity, it determines your position to be altogether outside of the circle of true believers ; if it intrudes more or less as a temptation, and tinges with self-righteous blemishes a substantial faith in Christ, it reduces you from the highest to the lowest rank of disciples, and from the first to the last in the final award of those who serve the Lord. In one of its aspects the lesson of this parable is parallel with that which is taught by the experience of the penitent thief. Both greatly magnify the patience and long-suffering of God : they record and proclaim, each in its own way, that there is hope at the eleventh hour. But in such a case, a perverse carnal mind frequently turns the grace of God into lasciviousness. Because the mercy of our Redeemer is stretched to the furthest verge of safety to leave room for the outcast to enter, when on the darkening evening of the day of grace he flees at last from the wrath to come ; souls cleaving to the dust, take the liberty of stretching their expectations a little further than Christ stretched his offer, and find the door shut, when they come too late. Ah, when the tender Saviour of sinners, by his parable, and the experi- ence of the thief, gives you encouragement to come, although you are late; beware lest you take from his words wrested an encouragement to be late in coming. GROUP— THE TWO SONS, THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN, AND THE MARRIAGE OF THE KING'S SON. Matt. xxi. 28; xxii. 14 |HE natural history of a parable is like the (prob- able) natural history of a pearl. Something alien and irritating has alighted upon life, and forthwith a covering of pure and precious matter is thrown over it. After this manner, indeed, as we have already noted, a greater than the parable came. In this way redemption began, and grew. Sin entered Eden and fastened upon that image of God which had appeared on earth in the person of primeval man ; forthwith holy pro- mises from heaven began to cluster round the sin-spot. As age succeeded age these promises distilled like dew and crystallized around the original nucleus, until redemp- tion was completed in the sacrifice of Christ and the ministry of the Spirit : that glorious gospel on which we now fondly look, gathered round the fall. The sin of man, though not the cause of God's salvation, became its occa- sion and determined its form. The particular lessons which Jesus taught in the course of his ministry, followed in this respect the analogy of his redeeming work as a whole; in most cases his in- structions were called forth and fashioned by hard, bold outstanding sins. Some of the brightest jewels which shine in the life of Christ are the pure pearly coverings GROUP— THE TWO SONS, ETC. 221 which he threw around Pharisaic pride, or Sadducean un- belief, or the self-righteous stumbles of his own disciples Thus he made the wrath, and the malice, and the deceit of men to show forth his own praise ; thus rust-spots were converted into shining pearls ; thus human errors, as they sprung up, were seized and choked and buried under a mantle of glorious grace. Here in Matthew's Gospel, we encounter a group of three parables, the two sons, the wicked husbandmen, and the marriage of the king's son, connected with each other historically in a consecutive report, and logically as suc- cessive steps in the development of one argument. The portion, chapters xxi. xxii. xxiii., is the compact record of a single scene. Approaching by the Mount of Olives, Jesus entered Jerusalem in a simple but significant triumphal procession, heralded by the hosannahs of the multitude, which, if for the most part neither intelligent nor perma- nent, were sincere and spontaneous. Arrived in the city he at once made his way to the Temple, and there assumed an unwonted and severe authority. The mercenary pro- faners of the temple he cast out ; the blind and lame he healed. On the way to and from Bethany, where he lodged for the night, the fruitless fig tree withered under his word. Next morning as he was teaching in the temple, the heads of the Jewish external theocracy, stung to rage by his words and deeds on the preceding day, formally demanded the exhibition of his authority, as a preliminary step to the violent suppression of his work. Jesus knew the hearts of these men ; he knew that while, in virtue of their office, they affected to expound and apply the divine law, and to rule the people in accordance with it, they were at once ignorant of God's word and tamely subservient to the passions of the people. To tear off, or rather to compel 222 GROUP— THE TWO SONS, ETC. them with their own hands to tear off their cloak of hypocrisy, he addressed to them that question of wonder- ful simplicity but wonderful power, The baptism of John, whence was it ? from heaven or of men ? Knowing that if they should confess the divine origin of John's mission they would thereby establish the Messiahship of Jesus to whom John had borne witness, and that if they should deny it they would forfeit the favour of the people, they answered, We cannot tell, meaning, It is inconvenient to express an opinion. As they could not venture to pro- nounce whether a ministry which had left its impress deep on the whole land, was a human usurpation or a divine mission, they had obviously no right to sit in judgment on the credentials of Jesus. When on this point they were condemned out of their own lips the Lord, rising now more into the stern dignity of judge when his ministry was drawing to a close, advances against the discomfited and stunned hierarchs, with another, another, and yet another stroke, unveiling the hypocrisy of their religious profession, predicting the consummation of the crime, the murder of the Father's well beloved, which they were already cherishing in their hearts, and denounc- ing finally the doom which in the righteous government of God should fall upon themselves and their city.* Such are the occasion, the places, the object, and the nature ot the three parables which Jesus spoke that day in the Temple, and the Evangelist Matthew has recorded in this portion of the word. The first is the parable of — * " He now constrains them, in the first parable, to declare their own guilt ; and, in the second, to declare their own punishment ; and as they had now decided to put Him to death, He describes to them, in the third parable, the consequences of their great violation of the covenant and ingra- titude, — the destruction of their ancient priesthood, and the triumphant estab- lishment of his new kingdom of heaven among the Gentiles." — Langein he. X. THE TWO SONS. "But what think ye ? A certain man had two sons ; and he came to the first, and said, Son, go work to-day in my vineyard. He answered and said, I will not : but after* ward he repented, and went. And he came to the second, and said likewise. And he answered and said, I go, sir : and went not. Whether of them twain did the will of his father? They say unto him, The first. Jesus saith unto them, Verily I say unto you, That the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you. For John came unto you in the way of righteousness, and ye believed him not : but the publicans and the harlots believed him : and ye, when ye had seen it, repented not afterward, that ye might believe him." — Matt. xxi. 28-32. jlROM this parable, in connection with that of the labourers in the vineyard, we incidentally learn that among the cultivators of Palestine in those days there was the same admixture of large and small farms which prevails in our own land. In order to provide for the structure of the preceding parable, an agriculturist is introduced who cultivates on a large scale. Group after group of labourers are hired wholesale, and sent successively into the vineyard ; in the evening a steward pays each labourer under the general instructions of his chief. There in a few strokes you have the picture of an ancient Israelitish magnate, owning a broad estate and affording employment to a multitude of dependants. In the parable which is now under review, we have a pic- ture equally distinct, but representing another class of countrymen. This is neither on the one hand a great proprietor, nor on the other a landless labourer. Here is 224 THE TWO SONS. a man who has a stake in the country, a portion of ground of size sufficient to provide for the wants of his family; but his farm cannot afford employment and remuneration to a gang of labourers; the work must be all done by the owner himself and his children. This is a desirable con- dition of life, and the class who occupy it are valuable tc society. There, in the middle, they are sheltered from many dangers to which their countrymen on either ex- treme of social condition are exposed. Woe to the country in which there are only two classes, — the greatest and the smallest, — the large proprietors and the floating sea of labourers. The strong fixed few and the feeble surging many are to each other reciprocally dangerous. Give me a country dotted all over with homesteads, where father and mother, sons and daughters, till their own ground and eat the fruit of their own labour. " To the first he said, Son, go work to-day in my vine- yard." The first was none other than the one whom the father first met that morning. To have intimated whether he was the elder or the younger, would have in- troduced a disturbing element, and obscured the meaning of the lesson. There is no question here between elder and younger, or between Jews and Gentiles. At all events, if those who maintained a place within the theo- cracy are distinguished from those who stood without its pale, we must conceive of the Father approaching on this occasion from without towards the centre', coming in contact first with those who were excluded as aliens, and afterwards reaching the inner circle, who counted them- selves the seed of Abraham. This son, rebellious in heart, and not trained to cover his disobedience under a smooth profession, meets his father's command with a rude, blunt refusal. I think the THE TWO SONS. 225 humble husbandman had received a similar answer from the same quarter more than once before. This is not the first unseemly word which the young man had spoken to his father: neither himself nor his wickedness has grown to maturity in a day. The habit of dishonouring his parents had sprung from a seed of evil in his infancy, and grown with his growth until he and it had reached full stature together. The father seems not to have spoken a word in reply. Probably he knew by experience that an altercation on the spot would only have made matters worse : perhaps he sighed, perhaps he wept as he turned gently round and went away. I do not know how often and how long he had meditated on the grand practical question for a father, when he should be severe, and when he should show indulgence. May God guide and help parents who have disobedient sons; they need much patience for bearing, and much wisdom for acting aright. " But afterward he repented and went." There is much in these few simple words. He repented; perhaps his father's silent grief went to his heart at length and melted it. He saw himself in his true colours, and loathed himself for his sin. The son, who probably ob- tained a glimpse of his father's tears, wept himself in turn, and, as the best amends he could make, went silently into the vineyard, and did a good day's work there. Thus, when Jesus, suffering, bearing reproach before Pilate's judgment-seat, looked on Peter sinning, Peter went out and wept. When he was called to suffer for Christ, he had rudely answered, "I will not;" but afterwards he repented and went — to work, to witness, to suffer, to die for the Lord whom he loved. Perhaps the father, from beneath the cottage eaves, saw the son on the brow of the hill toiling in the noon- (9) 15 226 THE TWO SONS. day heat, — saw and was glad. The value of a day's labour was something ; but it was as the small dust of the balance in comparison with the price he set on the repentance and obedience of his child. I suppose there was a happy meeting at night when the son came home. I suppose the father was a happy man as he saw the robust youth wiping the sweat from his brow, and sitting down to his evening meal. " He came to the second, and said likewise." The second son had an answer ready, sound in substance and smooth in form. It was a model answer from a son to his parent : " I go, sir," said the youth, without hesitation or complaint. I am not sure that the father was over- joyed at the promptness and politeness of this reply: probably he had received as fair promises from the same quarter before, and seen them broken. At all events, this young man's fair word was a whited sepulchre; he did not obey his father. Whether he fell in with trivial com- panions on his way to the vineyard, and was induced to go with them in another direction, or thought the day too hot and postponed the labour till the morrow, I know not; but he said, and did not. It was profession without practice. The tender vine-shoots might trail on the ground for him till their fruit-buds were blackened; he would not put himself to the trouble of tying them up to the stakes, although the food of the family should be imperilled by his neglect. Now comes the sharp question, "Whether of them twain did the will of his father?" The answer is all too easy. The light is stronger than is comfortable for those owl-eyed Pharisees, who were prowling about like night- birds on the scent of their prey. The sudden glance of this sunbeam dazzles and confounds them. In utter THE TWO SONS. 227 helplessness, they confess the truth that condemns them- selves ; they say unto him " The first." * In the first example the Lord represents chief sinners repenting ; and in the second, the form of godliness with- out its power. The publicans and harlots, who had for- saken their sins and followed the Saviour, sat for the first picture ; the chief priests and elders, who concealed their thirst for innocent blood under a mantle of long prayers and broad phylacteries, sat for the second. Let us look first to the two distinct and opposite an- swers, and next to the two distinct and opposite acts. The answers. — That of the first son, " I will not," was evil, and only evil. It is of first-rate practical importance to make this plain and prominent. Looking to the son in the story, we see clearly that the answer was outra- geously wicked: it was an evil word flowing from its native spring in an evil heart Looking next to the class of persons whom that son represents, we find they are the openly and daringly ungodly of every rank in every age. This son, when he rudely refused to obey his father, meant what he said ; he was not willing to obey, and he plainly said so. This represents those who have neither the profession nor the practice of true religion ; they neither fear God nor pretend to fear him. At this point, among certain classes, a subtle tempta- tion insinuates itself. In certain circumstances, ungodly * At an earlier stage of the same interview, when a question regarding the ministry of the Baptist was addressed to them, fearing the consequences which an answer might involve, they had sought shelter under the plea ot Ignorance. As they gained nothing by their duplicity on that occasion, they may have been unwilling to try the same policy again ; and, accord- ingly, they give frankly the obvious answers to the questions that resulted both from this and the succeeding parable. 228 THE TWO SONS. men take credit for the distinct avowal of their ungodli. ness, and count on it as a merit. They are not, indeed, submissive in heart and life to the will of God ; but they do not tell a lie about the matter; they make no preten- sion. The frank confession, that they are not good, seems to serve some men as a substitute for goodness. By comparing themselves complacently with fellow- sinners of a different class, they contrive to rivet the fatal error more firmly on their own hearts. Observing among their neighbours here and there a rank hypocrite, they compare his sanctimonious profession with his indifferent sense of honesty, and congratulate themselves that they are not hypocrites. Well, brother, suppose it were conceded that you are not a hypocrite; what then? If you have lived unre- penting, unforgiven, unchanged ; if with your whole heart and habits you have departed from the living God, and not returned to him through the Mediator, — will all be atoned for and made up by the single fact that to all your other sins you did not add the cant of a hypocrite ? It is true, a hypocrite is a loathsome creature; but his badness will not make a profane man good. When he is cast away for his hypocrisy, it will be no comfort to you as you keep him company that it is for open ungod- liness, and not for lying pretensions to piety, that you are condemned. Hypocrites are, indeed, excluded from the kingdom of God ; but it is a fatal mistake to assume that, provided you are not a hypocrite, you will be welcomed into heaven with all your vices on your back. I scarcely know a more subtle or more successful wile of the devil than this. Many strong men are cast down by it. You don't pretend to be good ; well, and will that save you ? What comfort will it afford to the lost to re* THE TWO SONS. 229 fleet that they went openly to perdition, in broad day- light, before all men, and did not skulk through by-ways under pretence that they were going to heaven ? The answer of the other son was evil too, if you look not to its body, but to its spirit. There is no reason to suppose that it was, even at the moment, an act of true obedience to his father. "He said, I go, sir; and went not : " he said one thing, and did another, an opposite ; but there is no ground for believing that he meant to go when he promised, and afterwards changed his mind. His smooth language was a lie ; and his subsequent con- duct showed, not that he had changed his mind when his father was out of sight, but that he concealed it while his father was present. It is worthy of notice, that although the first son changed his mind after he had given his answer, there is no intimation of any change having passed on the second son, between his answer and his act. By its silence on this point, the narrative leads us to infer that the purpose of the disobedient son was the same while he was promising well as when he acted ill. The course of the life flowing full in the direction of disobe- dience, proves that the expression of the lips which ran in the opposite direction, was a lie; it was like a glittering ripple caused by a fitful breeze, running upward on the surface of the river, while the whole volume of its water rolls, notwithstanding, the other way. Thus is even the worship of hypocrites worthless : Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord ; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven. The want of the subsequent obedience shows that the promise was not true. Thus at first both these sons were in a false and unsafe position. Their characters were not the same, — were not 23° THE TWO SONS. similar: they differed in thought and word ; but the difference, in as far as their answers were concerned, indi- cated only varieties of sin. Legion is the name of the spirits that possess and pollute the fallen; but all the legion do not dwell in every man. Different temptations tinge different persons with different hues of guilt. At the time when the father uttered his command, the character of the first son was bold, unblushing rebellion ; the character of the second was cowardly, false pretence. The one son neither promised nor meant to obey; the other son promised obedience, but intended not to keep his word. In the first instance, therefore, there is no ground for preferring the one to the other. While they stood severally in their father's presence, and before either had repented of his sin, they were both, and both alike evil, The blasphemer has no right to boast over the hypocrite and the hypocrite has no right to boast over the blas- phemer. In either case it is a body of sin, but there is a shade of difference in the colour of the garments. The one pretends to a goodness which he does not possess ; and the other confesses, or rather boasts, that he is destitute of goodness. They measure themselves by themselves; and therein they are not wise. The one thinks his smooth tongue will save him ; and the other counts himself safe because he has not a smooth tongue. We come now to the ultimate act of either son. The first, after flinging a blunt refusal in his father's face, repented of his sin. The turning-point is here. A change came over the spirit of the man, and a consequent change emerged in his conduct : his heart was first turned, and then his history. The honesty of his declaration— the absence of duplicity in giving his answer, would not have THE TWO SONS. 23 1 justified him before either God or man. He repented ; he turned round. He grieved over his sin ; he was sorry that he had disobeyed his father. Repentance immedi- ately brought forth fruit after its kind. He went into the vineyard, and laboured there with a will all. .day at the kind of work which he knew would please his father. These two things go always in company, and together make up the new man — they are the new heart and the new life. The grieved father would weep for joy, as he looked up the precipitous hill-side on which the terraced vine- yard hung, and saw there the head and hands of his son glancing quickly from place to place among the vine plants. Thus there is joy in heaven — deep in the heart of heaven's Lord — over one sinner that repenteth. Among the vines that day work was worship : the resulting act of obedience — fruit of repentance in the soul, was an offer- ing of a sweet-smelling savour unto God. The other son promptly promised, but failed to per- form. The first was changed from bad to good, but the second was not changed from good to bad. No change took place in this case, and none is recorded. It is not written, that having promised, he afterwards repented and did not go. His promise was not true ; at the moment when it was made, the youth did not intend to work, and therefore it required no change of mind to induce him afterwards to spend the day in idleness. This son represents, in the first instance, those Pharisees who were then and there compassing the death of Jesus. They ostentatiously professed that they were doing God service ; yet they were spreading a net for the feet of the innocent, and preparing to shed his blood. Wearing broad phylacteries, making long prayers, and offering 332 THE TWO SONS. many sacrifices, they were, notwithstanding, living in malice and envy, hateful, and hating one another. With their lips they honoured God ; but in works they denied him. These, in as far as they are here represented, were evil first and last. In the second son we have an example, not of a man who meant to do good changing his mind and ultimately doing evil, but of a man who, notwithstand- ing his fair profession, meant evil at the beginning and perpetrated it in the end. Nor are these lessons of the Lord limited to one private interpretation : the lesson of this parable was not exhausted when the Pharisees died out. As surely as the thorns, and the tares, and the lilies to which Jesus on various occasions alluded in his lectures, grow on the ground at this day, and have grown there through all the intervening generations — so surely the various classes of human character which he rebuked, warned, or encouraged in his ministry, have their representatives going out and in amongst us in the present day. It is meant that in this glass all the self-righteous to the end of the world should see themselves ; their profession is fair, but their life is for self, and not for God. In the stratified rocks many species and genera of plants and animals are found in a fossil state which are not found in the flora or fauna of our present earth ; but the human characters that were fixed and stamped as by photograph in the Scriptures are not so far removed from the men and women who now live on the earth. No species has become extinct ; and even the minuter characteristics of distinct varieties remain legible still. Here spring two distinct warnings to two distinct classes, with corresponding encouragements attached, as THE TWO SONS. 233 shadows follow solid bodies in the sunlight ; — to the Publi- cans and Harlots first, and next to the Pharisees of the day. 1. There is a class amongst us answering to those publicans and sinners to whom Jesus was wont to address the message of his mercy. Alas, they may be counted by thousands and tens of thousands in the land ! ■ They are the drunkards, the licentious, the profane, the false, the cruel, — those who abandon themselves to a vicious life, and do not take the trouble of attempting to hide their sin under a cloak of sanctity. They gratify every lust, and crucify none. They live without God in the world. The key-note of their being is, Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die. To all this class the parable proclaims a warning. A tank, soporific superstition has crept over these free and easy spirits, — a superstition as dark and deceitful as any of the inventions of Rome. Men seem actually to persuade themselves that their very wickedness will supply them with a passport into heaven. They seem to expect that they will be made pets in the great day, because they made no pretension to saintship ; and that they will be fondled by the Judge as they have been by their boon companions, because hypocrisy cannot be reckoned among their sins. It is a false hope. Free thinking, free living brother, if I saw you about to put to sea in a ship which I knew to be affected with dry-rot in the timbers of the bottom, I would warn you with all my energy, that I might save your life : when I see you preparing to launch into eternity leaning on a lie, I cry vehemently, Beware, lest you be lost for ever ! Without holiness no man shall see God. The absence of a hypocritical pretension to holi- ness will not be accepted instead of. holiness. All who go away to the judgment-seat without holiness will be 234 TJtR TWO SONS. shut out of heaven — alike those who thought they had it. and those who confessed that they had it not. It was all right at last with the profane son in the parable ; but mark, he repented and obeyed. God's invitation to the wicked is, Turn and live ; but the promise contains in its bosom the counterpart threatening, If you turn not you shall die. It was not the bold, frank declaration of dis- obedience that made the first son all right : it made him all wrong. It was his change, — his passing out of that state, as if he had passed from death unto life, that saved him. But to this class the parable speaks encouragement as well as warning. So great is God's mercy in Christ that even you are welcome when you come ; the gate stands open ; the Redeemer from within is calling chief sinners in ; He has pledged himself to cast no comer out because of his worthlessness. Nor does the freeness of his grace prove that the prodigal's sins are small ; it proves only that the forgiving love of Christ is great. 2. There is still a class corresponding to the Pharisees, and to these the Lord in this parable conveys both warning and encouragement. The essence of the Pharisaic character, under every variety of form, consists of these two things, — an exact and laborious observance of external religious duties, and a heart satisfied with itself while it is devoted to the world. The species is described for all times and places in the Apocalyptic Epistle to the Church in Sardis : " Thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead " (Rev. iii. i). There is a profession of godliness wanting its power ; Christ's name comes readily to the lip, but the god of this world possesses the heart and controls the life. There is encouragement to the Pharisee as well as to THE TWO SONS. 335 the publican to turn and live. There is no respect of persons with God ; the Pharisee was as welcome to Christ as the publican, if he would come. A Pharisee and a publican went up to the temple at the same hour to pray ; the publican returned to his own house pardoned and at peace with God, while the Pharisee went home still unreconciled and under condemnation : but wherefore ? Not that God was more willing to forgive the publican than to forgive the Pharisee ; but because the Pharisee did not ask forgiveness. He would have obtained it if he had asked it : his self-righteousness was his ruin. Thus in the end of this parable, the Lord intimates to the Pharisees that the outcasts whom they despised are entering the kingdom of heaven before them., This does not mean that the way is made more easy, the gate more wide, to the licentious and profane than to the hypocrite, — it intimates merely that in point of fact the profane were then and there hastening in through the gate which stood open alike for all, while the self-righteous were standing aloof. The intimation, moreover, is made, not in order to keep these Pharisees back, but to urge them forward. The Lord desires to provoke them to jealousy by them that were no people. These despised outcasts are going in before you ; arise and press in now, lest the door be shut. It was not because they were publicans and harlots that they were saved, but because they believed and repented under the preaching of John ; and it was not because the others were Pharisees that they were still unsaved, but because even with the example of fellow- sinners repenting and believing before their eyes, they, thinking themselves righteous, would not repent and believe. God delights as much to receive a Pharisee as to re 236 THE TWO SONS. ceive a publican. When a self-righteous man discovers himself at last to be a whited sepulchre, and counting his own righteousness filthy rags, flees to Christ as his righteousness, he is instantly accepted in the beloved. If I could be admitted, in the body or out of the body, to a vision of the saints in rest, I would like to creep near the spot where two saved sinners chance to meet, — the man who wrote this narrative of Christ's ministry, and the man who preached Christ to the Gentiles. I would fain listen for an hour to the conversation of Matthew the publican and Saul the Pharisee when they meet in the mansions of the Father's house. Their loving argument, I could imagine, would sometimes run high. Matthew will contend that the grace of their common Lord has been most conspicuously glorified in his own redemption, " for," he pleads, " I was all evil and had nothing good, I had neither inside purity nor outside whitening. I had neither the seemly profession without nor the holy heart within. I was altogether vile ; and in me therefore is the grace of God glorified most." Paul, on the other side, will contend, with his keen intellect perfect at last, that he was the chief sinner, and that consequently in his redemption a more decisive testimony is given to the abundance of the Saviour's grace. After describing his own hardness and blindness and unbelief, he will add, as the crowning sin of man, the crowning glory of God, — While I was thus the chief of sinners, I gave myself out as one of the greatest of saints. It may be hard to tell whether of the two mountains is the more elevated ; but one thing is clear, — both are covered by the flood. The blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son, cleanseth us, — the profane and the self-righteous alike, — cleanseth us from all sin. XL THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. " Hear another parable : There was a certain householder, which planted a vineyard, and hedged it round about, and digged a winepress in it, and built a tower, and let it out to husbandmen, and went into a far country : and when the time of the fruit drew near, he sent his servants to the husbandmen, that they might receive the fruits of it. And the husbandmen took his servants, and beat one, and killed another, and stoned another. Again, he sent other servants more than the first : and they did unto them likewise. But last of all he sent unto them his son, saying, They will reverence my son. But when the husbandmen saw the son, they said among themselves, This is the heir : come, let us kill him, and let us seize on his inheritance. And they caught him, and cast him out of the vineyard, and slew him. When the lord therefore of the vineyard cometh, what will he do unto those nusbandmen ? They say unto him, He will miserably destroy those wicked men, and will let out his vineyard unto other hus- bandmen, which shall render him the fruits in their seasons. Jesus saith unto them, Did ye never read in the scriptures, The stone which the builders rejected, the same is become the head of the corner : this is the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes ? Therefore say I unto you.The kingdom of God shall be taken from you, and given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof. And whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken : but on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to powder. And when the chief priests and Pharisees had heard his parables, they per- ceived that he spake of them. But when they sought to lay hands on him, they feared the multitude, because they took him for a prophet." — Matt. xxi. 33-46. j HEN a proprietor has determined to appropriate as a vineyard a portion of ground which had previously lain waste, or been employed for some other purpose, his first care is to plant the vines. As some time must necessarily elapse before the young plants begin to bear fruit, he may prosecute the other departments of his undertaking at leisure. In due time, accordingly, he constructs a fence around the field to keep out depredators, whether men or beasts; digs a vat for receiving the juice, and prepares an appa- 238 THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. ratus above it for squeezing the clusters quickly in the hurry of the vintage; builds a tower as at once a shelter for the keeper and an elevated stand-point for the watcher by night or day. In the case which this parable represents, the owner did not continue to reside on the spot and cultivate his own vineyard ; " he let it out to husbandmen, and went into a far country.'' This lease, granted by a non-re- sident proprietor, throws an interesting light on the habits of the place and the time. In regard both to the tenants and the terms, the information, though very brief, is very definite. The vineyard was let not to one capi- talist, who might employ labourers to do the necessary work, but to a kind of joint-stock company of labourers who proposed to cultivate the property with their own hands for the common benefit. It was stipulated, more- over, that the rent should be paid not in money but in kind. It is the system known in India at this day as ryot-rent; the cultivator undertakes to give the owner a certain fixed quantity yearly from the produce of the farm, and all that is over belongs to himself. The structure of the parable in its later stages pre- supposes a country in which the central government is paralyzed, and the will of the strongest has usurped the place of law. With us it requires an exercise of imagina- tion to conjure up a scene in which these events could possibly occur; but in those regions such anarchy was not uncommon then, — is not uncommon now. It is pro- bable that the annals of our own empire in India could supply some parallel conflicts between the privileged superiors and the actual cultivators of the soil. The proprietor, being personally absent from the coun- try, employed agents to demand his stipulated share of THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. 23 «, the produce at the proper season from the tenants in possession. The tenants, presuming on the distance of the superior, and the difficulty which he must necessarily encounter in any attempt to enforce his rights, not only refused, to fulfil the conditions of their lease, but also assaulted the messengers who made the demand ; the)' beat one, and killed another, and stoned a third. Obvi- ously, they determined from the first to retain the whole produce of the vineyard for themselves. They do not seem to have laid their plans with much care: there is more of passion than of policy in their conduct. It is the ordinary practice of those who break the laws of God or of man, to grasp madly a present pleasure, and refuse to think of coming vengeance. Having heard of the treat' ment which his agents had received, the proprietor de- spatched another party more numerous, with the view probably of overawing the refractory peasants by a dis- play of strength ; but the second mission was as cruelly and contemptuously rejected as the first. The proprietor, still unwilling to bring matters to an extremity, adopted next an expedient which he hoped would subdue the rebellion, without imposing on him the necessity of punishing the rebels. Keeping out of sight for the moment his rights and his power, he appealed confidingly to their hereditary reverence for the family of their chief; he sent his son, and sent him unarmed, unattended. The conduct of the husbandmen at this point is unin- telligible, if you suppose that the country enjoyed a re- gular government, and that the men had deliberately adopted a plan. In order to account for the circum- stances, you must suppose that the central government was paralyzed, and that these men were as stupid as they were wicked. Great criminals are often blind to their 240 THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. own interests : their blunders generally lead to their con viction. The murder of the heir by these greedy tenants, in the vague hope of obtaining the property, is a probable event. To show that the scheme was not skilfully devised, does not by any means prove that the crime was not actually perpetrated. The owner was absent; no display of irresistible power was made to their senses; they were not in the habit of nicely considering the remote conse- quences of an act, and an overmastering passion com- pletely paralyzed at that moment a judgment which was feeble at the best. From this point the close of the tragedy is self-evident ; the Lord accordingly does not further prosecute the narrative. Here the Pharisees are invited to pronounce judgment upon themselves ; nor do they hesitate to accept the challenge. Whether in simplicity, as uncon- scious of the Teacher's drift, or in exasperation as know- ing that by this time his drift appeared to the whole company all too plain, may not be certain ; but in point of fact they gave the answer without abatement and without ambiguity : " He will miserably destroy those wicked men, and will let out his vineyard to other hus- bandmen which will render him the fruits in their season." No serious difficulty occurs in the interpretation of this parable, and, consequently, no considerable differences of opinion have arisen among interpreters regarding it. The main lines of the lesson cannot be mistaken; but there is need of careful discrimination in some of the details. Frequently in the Scriptures the seed of Abraham, called by God and endowed with many peculiar privi- leges, are compared to a vine, or to the aggregate of vines THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. 24 1 in a vineyard. I shall here point to three examples of this usage, in order to show that, notwithstanding an obvious general resemblance, they differ from each other and from this parable in the specific purposes to which they severally adapt and apply the analogy : — 1. Isa. v. 1-7: "Now will I sing to my well-beloved a song of my beloved touching his vineyard. My well- beloved hath a vineyard in a very fruitful hill. And he fenced it, and gathered out the stones thereof, and planted it with the choicest vine, and built a tower in the midst of it, and also made a winepress therein : and he looked that it should bring forth grapes, and it brought forth wild grapes. And now, O inhabitants of Jerusalem, and men of Judah, judge, I pray you, betwixt me and my vineyard. What could have been done more to my vine- yard, that I have not done in it? wherefore, when I looked that it should bring forth grapes, brought it forth wild grapes ? And now go to ; I will tell you what I will do to my vineyard : I will take away the hedge thereof and it shall be eaten up ; and break down the wall thereof, and it shall be trodden down. And I will lay it waste : it shall not be pruned nor digged ; but there shall come up briers and thorns: I will also command the clouds that they rain no rain upon it. For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel, and the men of Judah his pleasant plant: and he looked for judgment, but behold oppression; for righteousness, but behold a cry." The vineyard, with its slope to the southward, and rich soil, and careful cultivation, and secure defences, and convenient apparatus, represents the people whom God chose and cherished. The drift of Isaiah's par- able is to show the exaggerated wickedness of that (9) 16 242 THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. favoured nation. The vineyard brought forth wild grapes, — those sour grapes which set on edge the teeth of him who tastes them (Ezek. xviii. 2). Israel lived like the heathen, and thus the care bestowed upon them was thrown away. As a punishment for its ungrateful return, the vineyard was laid waste ; the kingdom and polity of Israel were destroyed by the decree of God, and through the instrumentality of the king of Babylon. 2. Ezek. xv. 2-5 : " Son of man, What is the vine tree more than any tree, or than a branch which is among the trees of the forest ? Shall wood be taken thereof to do any work ? or will men take a pin of it to hang any vessel thereon ? Behold, it is cast into the fire for fuel ; the fire devoureth both the ends of it, and the midst of it is burnt. Is it meet for any work ? Behold, when it was whole, it was meet for, no work : how much less shall it be meet yet for any work, when the fire hath devoured it, and it is burned?" Here Israel is compared, not to a vineyard, but to a single vine; and the special characteristic selected for purposes of instruction is the uselessness of the vine tree as timber. Cultivated only for the sake of its fruit, if it prove barren, it is not only no better than the trees of the forest, but much worse. Forest trees are useful in their own place, and for certain purposes ; but a vine, if it do not bear fruit, is of no use at all. No man can make a piece of furniture from its small, supple, gnarled stem and branches. The wood of the vine is fit for nothing but to be cast into the fire, and, therefore, a fruitless vine takes rank far beneath a forest-tree ; thus an apostate and corrupt Church is a viler thing than the ordinary secular governments of the world. Such obviously and notoriously is ecclesiastical Rome to-day. THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. 2 43 3. Ps. lxxx. 8-15: "Thou hast brought a vine out of Egypt; thou hast cast out the heathen, and planted it. Thou preparedst room before it, and didst cause it to take deep root, and it filled the land. The hills were covered with the shadow of it, and the boughs thereof were like the goodly cedars. She sent out her boughs unto the sea, and her branches unto the river. Why hast thou then broken down her hedges, so that all they which pass by the way do pluck her? The boar out of the wood doth waste it, and the wild beast of the field doth devour it. Return, we beseech thee, O God of hosts : look down from heaven, and behold, and visit this vine ; and the vineyard which thy right hand hath planted, and the branch that thou madest strong for thyself." Again Israel is represented as a vine ; but in this case the features brought into prominence are its former nourishing condition and great extent compared with its present desolation. By the removal of the protecting fence, the wild beasts of the forest were permitted to trample at will on its feeble and lowly boughs. The picture sets forth the ruin of Jerusalem through the with- drawal of God's protecting hand, and the consequent irruption of hostile nations. In all these cases the vine, or aggregate of vines, repre- sents the privileged persons who constituted the kingdom of Israel or Church of God, as it then existed in the world. In the first example, the wickedness of Israel is represented by the bitterness of the fruit which the vineyard produced ; in the second, the unprofitableness of Israel is represented by the want of fruit on the vine ; and in the third, the sufferings of Israel are represented by the inroads of the wild beasts upon the wide spread, tender, unprotected vine. Our parable differs from all three as to the point where 844 THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. its lesson lies. It is not a case in which a favoured vine- yard produces bad fruit ; it is not a case in which a vine bears no fruit ; it is not a case in which a vine that might otherwise have been fruitful is trampled down by wild beasts for want of a fence. It is a case in which, after the vineyard has brought forth its fruit, the cultivators who have charge refuse to render to the owner the portion of the produce which is his due. The difference is import- ant : it determines clearly the main line in which the in- terpretation of the parable should proceed. By the vineyard with all its privileges, I understand the ordinances of Israel as appointed by God, and the people of Israel in as far as they were necessarily passive in the hands of their priests and rulers. The husband- men manifestly represent the leaders, who at various periods had usurped a lordship over God's heritage. Extraordinary ambassadors were sent from time to time in the owner's name, to demand the stipulated tribute, — prophets such as Elijah, Elisha, Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel, men not of the number, or in the confidence of the ordinary rulers, but specially commissioned by the Supreme, to approach them with reproof and instruction. The established authorities of the nation, exercising their office for their own pleasure or profit, rejected the counsel and assaulted the persons of the messengers. Some were imprisoned, some driven into exile, and some put to death. Successive embassies, sent in successive ages, met with similar treatment, until, in the fulness of time, Christ the Son became the messenger of the covenant. He came unto his own, and his own received him not. Already those Jewish rulers who listened to this parable, were laying their plans to cast this greatest prophet out of the city, and to crucify him. THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. 245 The owner of the vineyard said, " They will reverence my son.'' The expression is natural and appropriate in the lips of a human proprietor ; but obviously when it represents the purpose of God, it means only that such reverence was claimed, and such reverence was due. The omniscient knew beforehand that the Jewish rulers would not yield even to this last and tenderest appeal. The expectation of the husbandmen that when they should have murdered the heir, the property should become their own, does not point to any definite, well considered plan by which the wicked expect to gain a permanent portion by rejecting the Gospel ; it indicates merely the blunt determination of the carnal mind to grasp and enjoy God's bounties while it despises and rejects his grace. To crucify Christ by the hands of the Romans, or to crucify him afresh through unbelief, was and is a short- sighted policy. When the Lord of the vineyard cometh he will destroy those wicked men, and will let out the vineyard unto others. The interpretation of this turning-point is given to the Jewish rulers in full, and without concealment. "The kingdom of God shall be taken from you and given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof" (ver. 43). The polity of the Jews was crushed by the Romans, and the charge of the Church fell into other hands. The " nation " that has succeeded to the kingdom is constituted on a different principle, and held together by different bonds. It is not after the flesh, but after the spirit that citizenship is obtained in the Christian commonwealth ; henceforth, the partakers of Abraham's faith are the seed of Abraham to whom the covenant of promise pertains The worship and ordinances of God's house were trans- ferred to the apostles and their followers, neither as Jews 246 THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. nor as Gentiles, but as the disciples of Christ. A new nation (edvos) 1S constituted of those who are born again ; of those the kingdom consists, and under their charge its affairs will be carried on until the Lord come again. The personal and permanent application of the lesson is obvious. A rich vineyard, planted and fenced to our hand, has been let out to us by the Maker and Owner of the world. Civil and religious liberty, the Bible and the Sabbath, the Church and its ministry, have been provided and pre- served for us by our Father's care. We are permitted to enjoy all for our own benefit, under deduction of a tribute to the Giver. Our offerings cannot directly reach him, but he has made them payable to the poor. When Christ the messenger of the covenant stands at the door and knocks, a worldly heart within refuses to admit him. The carnal mind is enmity against God, and therefore resists the claim which the Mediator bears : its language is, "We will not have this man to reign over us.'' The lesson bears also upon the gradual corruption of the Christian Church in the first centuries, and the absolute apostasy of the lordly hierarchy at Rome. At the Reformation the kingdom was in part taken from that faithless priesthood ; but they retain vast multitudes in bondage still. The Lord reigneth ; and the time will come when every yoke shall be broken, and the Church set free to serve the Lord alone. The vineyard will one day be delivered from the tyranny of usurping tenants, and its fruit fully rendered to its rightful Lord. Ah, my country, I dread the punishment of thy unfaith- fulness ! The same righteous God, who cast out the Jews and admitted the Gentiles, reigneth still. On the same principle he has taken the kingdom from Asia Minor and THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. 247 Greece, and given it to this island of the sea. Alas, if we render not to him the fruits of his vineyard, he may take our privileges in judgment away, and give them to another nation, perhaps to Italy— ^emancipated, regenerated Italy (Rom. xi. 19). This parable is remarkable for the codicil taken from the Old Testament and attached to it by the Lord on the spot and at the moment. The picture of the tenant vine- dressers usurping possession — driving off the owner's servants and slaying his son, although transparent in its meaning and pungent in its reproof, does not contain all that the Lord then desired to address to the Pharisees. It pleased him to employ that similitude as far as it reached ; but when its line had all run out, he seized another line that lay ready in the Scriptures to his hand, and attached it to the first, that by the union of the two he might make the reproof complete. The first type taken from human affairs is not broad enough to represent the kingdom of God at a crisis of its conflict. The son whom the proprietor sends on an embassy to the vine- dressers, points to Christ sent by the Father to his own Israel, The terrestrial fact serves to show that the son was put to death by the rebels in possession, but there its power is exhausted ; it has no means of exhibiting the other side of the scene, — that this son rose from the dead, and now reigns over all. The parable, when it came to its natural conclusion, left the lesson which it had begun to teach abruptly broken off in the midst, — left a glorj' of the Lord unrevealed, and a terror to wicked men un- spoken. That he might proclaim the whole truth, and leave his unrepenting hearers without • excuse, the Lord proceeded then and there to demand of them, " Did ye 248 THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. never read in the Scriptures, The stone which the builders rejected, the same is become the head of the corner ?" The parable of the husbandmen has already shown that the Son was rejected by the favoured people to whom he was sent ; and this grand text from the Old Testament Scriptures, which the Scribes well knew, shows further that he whom the official but false builders rejected and cast down, was accepted and raised up by God. Whom they refused, dishonoured, and slew, him God raised up and made King upon his holy hill of Zion.* It is a dread- ful discovery for those husbandmen to make, that the Son whom they murdered lives, and has become their Lord. Nothing is more appalling to criminals than to be con- fronted with their victim, — living and reigning. Hence the agony of Joseph's faithless brothers when they dis- covered that Joseph was their judge. Herod beheaded the Baptist in the intemperate excitement of a licentious feast, that he might keep before his nobles the word which he had rashly pledged to a fair, false woman : but Herod was not done with John when John's body, tenderly buried by his disciples, lay silent in the grave. Many times by night and day the king saw that gory head again lying on the charger — it would not go out of his sight. The creak- ing of a door, or the sighing of the wind among the trees, seemed the footfall of the Baptist stalking forth to reprove him. When an attendant reported to Herod the miracles of Christ, reporting at the same time that some took Jesus of Nazareth for Elias, and some for another prophet, he had his own opinion on the point ; he knew better, and * What wise one of this world, — what human reason would have con- ceived, under the cross, that this man suspended between two malefactors, and despised by all, would one day receive the worship of the whole world i This is the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes. — Heubnerin Lange. THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. 249 in a whisper, with pale face, and starting eye-balls, and trembling limbs, he said to his informant, — " It is John the Baptist whom I beheaded" (Mark vi. 14). It is a fearful thing for his murderers to fall into the hands of this living God. It is a fearful thing to see him whom you have crucified afresh coming in the clouds to judge the world in righteousness. Further expanding this conception regarding the chief corner stone, the Lord transfers from another scripture (Isa. viii. 14, 15), the prophecy spoken of old on this very point, — "And whosoever shall fall on this stone shall be broken ; but on whomsoever it shall fall, it will grind him to powder." We seem to mark here a change in the character of Jesus. Sterner and more stern he becomes; as in his prophetic office he approaches the subject of his own kingly judgment. His eyes pierce these hypocrites, and they quail before him. As his witnessing approaches its close, he draws the two-edged sword from its sheath and holds it before the time over the naked heads of his enemies, if so be they may even yet fear and sin not. For his own holy purposes he lays aside for a moment his gentleness, and appears as the Lion of the tribe of Judah. The last days of the Mediator's ministry on earth are now running : it must now be decided whether his own will receive or reject him. The leaders of Israel stood before him, with all their crooked purposes revealed to his eye ; the plot was ripening to take his life away. Laying aside the style of a meek Beseecher, he assumes the aspect of a just Avenger; already we seem to see the wrath of the Lamb gathering on his brow. Kiss the Son, lest he be angry ; as yet, his wrath is kindled but a little ; in that day, it will burn like fire. Why has it been kindled a little before the time ? Mercy has lighted this premonitory *5° THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. fire. This terror of the Lord, like all the others that he sends in the day of salvation, is employed as the means of persuading men. He not only receives all who come at his invitation, but sends out foreshadowings of judgment to drive from their unbelief those who refuse to yield to gentler means. Many of the forgiven, on earth and in heaven, are ready to tell that after they had long re- sisted his tender invitations, they were overcome at last by gracious terrors launched against them by a loving Saviour. The Jews were familiar with these ideas connected with the corner stone. The prophecy in the aspect of a promise they readily understood, but here the other and opposite side of it also is displayed. The picture — for it is by itself a short parable — repre- sents a great stone at rest. In Alpine valleys, close by the root of rent, rugged, precipitous mountains, you may often see a rock of vast dimensions lying on the plain In magnitude, it is itself a little hill ; and yet it is only a stone that has fallen from the neighbouring mountain Suppose a band of living men should rush with all then might against that stone, they would be broken and it would not be moved. If they retire and repeat the onset, the rock lies still in majestic repose, while their feeble limbs are mangled on its sides, and their life-blood sinks into the soil at its base. The next part of the conception, which the imagination can easily form at will, is precisely the reverse of the first. The rock rises now into mid-heaven, hovers over the assailants for a while, and then falls upon their heads. Here, as in the other case, the human adversaries of this rock are destroyed, but their destruction is wholly different in degree and kind. In the first case, they were broken ; THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. 251 in the second, they are grinded to powder* The words in the original are very specific, and the translation is remarkably accurate. The term employed to indicate the injury which men inflict upon themselves when they resist the Redeemer in the day of grace, conveys the idea of the crushing which takes place when a man strikes swiftly with all his force against a great immoveable rock ; the term which indicates the overwhelming of Christ's enemies by his own power put forth in the day of judgment, con- veys the idea of the crushing which takes place when a great rock falls from a height upon a living man. The one calamity is great in proportion to the weight and impetus of a man ; the other calamity is great in propor- tion to the weight and impetus of a falling rock. Both the rejection of Christ by the unbelieving in the time of grace, and the rejection of the unbelieving by Christ when he comes for judgment, are bruisings ; but the second is to the first, as the power of a great rock is to the power of a man. The first bruising, caused by a man's unbe- lieving opposition to Christ under the Gospel, may be cured ; but the grinding accomplished by the wrath of the Judge when the day of grace is done can never be healed. There remaineth no more sacrifice for sin. There are only two ways. This stone lies across our path from edge to edge. It is not possible to be neutral, so as to be neither for Christ nor against him : we must either accept or reject the Son of God. In the prophecy to which the text refers (Isa. viii. 14, 15,) it is intimated that "He shall be for a sanctuary, but for a stone of * The expression is chosen with reference to the mysterious stone in Daniel ii. 34, 35, which grinds to powder the image of the monarchies ; that is, to Christ who unfolds his life in the kingdom of God and grinds the kingdom of this world to powder. — Lange. «5? THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. stumbling." The mighty one stands on our life path, and we cannot pass without coming into contact with him. If we flee to him for refuge, he is the sanctuary in which we shall be safe ; if we fall on him, in a vain effort to escape, we shall stumble, and fall, and perish. As a general rule, it is in the present life that he bears the weight of sinners ' striking against him ; and in the life to come that those who rejected him here, must bear the weight of his judgment. But some do not relish this doctrine ; those who heard it directly from the lips of the Lord resented it keenly, and many resent it still when it is taught from the Scrip- tures. In our day men do not often expressly find fault with the teaching of Jesus as it is recorded by the Evan- gelists : they prefer to blame the ministers who take up and echo their Master's words. People fondly grasp one side of God's revealed character and use it as a veil to hide the other from themselves. The tenderness of God our Father is employed to blot out from view the wrath of God our righteous Judge. Since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were; where, therefore, is the promise of his coming ? A great rock is lying on the plain : the cultivators have ploughed and the cattle have grazed round it since the flood. Standing beside it, and reverting to its possible history, you give scope to your imagination and ask, What if it had fallen, or should yet fall on me? The bare conception makes you shudder : you are fain to shake off the reverie and compose yourself by the reflec- tion that the rock, fixed to the spot by the laws of nature, cannot move to harm you. But the Judge of the quick and the dead, though likened to a stone as to crushing power, is not like a stone THE WICKED HUSBANDMEN. 253 in its silent still inertia. He liveth and abideth for ever. He bears now, — has borne long. The Almighty God does not move himself to hurt those who are his enemies, any more than the rock which has slept half buried in the valley many thousand years. But he will not thus bear for ever : he will come to judge the world. He will come as the lightning comes : then blessed will all be who shall have put their trust in him, while he waited, through the Gospel, to be gracious. " When the Son of man cometh" the second time, "shall he find faith on the earth ?" He will then find only the faith which his first coming generated ; for his second coming creates no new faith. Then, it is not "believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved ;" but "a fearful looking for of judgment." XII. THE ROYAL MARRIAGE FEAST. PART I. — THE WEDDING GUESTS. " And Jesus answered, and spake unto them again by parables, and said, The kingdom of heaven is like unto a certain king, which made a marriage for his son, and sent forth his servants to call them that were bidden to the wedding : and tlicy would not come. Again, he sent forth other servants, saying, Tell them which are bidden, Behold, I have prepared my dinner: my oxen and my fatlings are killed, and all things art ready : come unto the marriage. But they made light of it, and went their ways, out to his farm, another to his merchandise : and the remnant took his servants, and en- treated them spitefully, and slew them. But when the king heard thereof, he was wroth : and he sent forth his armies, and destroyed those murderers, and burned up their city. Then saith he to his servants, The wedding is ready, but they which were bidden were not worthy. Go ye therefore into the highways, and as many as ye shall find, bid to the marriage. So those servants went out into the highways, and gathered together all, as many as they found, both bad and good : and the wedding was furnished with guests. And when the king came in to see the guests, he saw there a man which had n6t on a wedding-garment : And he saith unto him, Friend, how earnest thou in hither not having a wedding-garment? And he was speechless. Then said the king to the servants, Bind him hand and foot, and take him away, and cast him into outer darkness ; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. For many are called, but few are chosen." — Matt. xxii. 1-14. / |HIS parable stands connected both historically and logically with the two which immediately precede it : especially between the guests here invited to the feast and the husbandmen to whom the vineyard was entrusted, there is a close resemblance in privileges enjoyed, in perversity mani- fested, and in judgment incurred. Yet the lessons, though in some respects parallel, are to a great extent distinct ; and though both traverse partially the same ground, the THE ROYAL MARRIAGE FEAST. 255 latter carries the argument some steps further forward than the former parable. A question has arisen and been largely canvassed, on the relation between the parable and one* recorded in Luke xiv. 16-24 regarding a certain man who made a great supper and bade many. Around this subject much useless and some mischievous debate has accumulated The criticism which assumes that only one discourse on the subject was spoken by Jesus, and that consequently two reports of it differing from each other, cannot be both correct, is impertinent and trifling. It is a pedantic literalism contrary to experience and to common sense. It rests upon the assumption that a public Teacher who taught the common people daily, on the margin of the lake and in private dwellings, in the Temple at Jerusalem and in the sequestered villages around, never repeated with variations in one place the substance of a lesson which he had given in another. Even in the immense profusion of nature every plant is not in all its features different from all others; two individuals or species are found in some respects the same and in some respects different. The two walk together as far as they are going the same way, and separate when each approaches his own peculiar and specific terminus. This combination of identity and difference pervades creation ; and you may observe the same characteristics in the scheme of Pro- vidence. Two men during a portion of their life-course suffer the same troubles and taste the same joys ; but at a certain point in their progress their paths diverge, and they never meet again in a common experience. Look even to the history of any citizen whose life is public, and you will find that by speech, or writing, or act, he prosecutes * No. XXI. of this series. 256 THE ROYAL MARRIAGE FEAST. his objects by a mixture of sameness and diversity. His address in the high court of the nation, and his address to his rustic constituents in a distant province, will be found in some features similar and in some different : yet the address in either case will be found an independent and consistent whole, corresponding to the character of the speaker and the circumstances of his audience. This " Teacher sent from God " was wont in later lessons to walk sometimes over his own former footsteps, as far as that track best suited his purpose, and to diverge into a new path at the point where a diversity in the cir- cumstances demanded a variety in the treatment. This is the method followed both in nature and revelation, — the method both of God and of men. " A certain king made a marriage for his son," the two important features here are the royal state of the father, and the specific designation of the supper as the nuptial feast of his son. It may be quite true, as some critics say, that because the greatest feasts were usually con- nected with marriages, the epithet " marriage " was some- times applied to any sumptuous banquet ; if in the Scriptures or elsewhere we should find a banquet de- nominated a marriage feast, while from the circumstances it appeared that no marriage had taken place, we should experience no difficulty in explaining the apparent incon- gruity. But in this case there is no reason for adopting the exceptional, and the strongest reason for retaining what is confessedly the ordinary arid natural signification of the term. The conception of the Redeemer as the bridegroom, and his redeemed people as the bride, lies too deep in Scripture and protrudes too frequently from its surface to leave any doubt concerning the allusion in the parable. The feast, introduced into the story for the PART I.— THE WEDDING GUESTS. 257 sake of its spiritual significance, is the marriage supper of the king's son. The king sent forth his servants, not on this occasion to give the first invitation, but to warn those who had been previously invited that the time had come, and the preparations been completed. It is obviously assumed, and analogies are not wanting to justify the assumption, that those whom the king desired to honour were informed of that desire before the day of the feast, and that another message was sent to each, after everything was ready, requesting his immediate attendance in the palace of the king. This feature of the transaction is not explained or defended in the narrative ; it is silently taken for granted as at least sufficiently common to be well understood.* This peculiarity of the invitation is important in con- nection with the severity of the punishment which was subsequently inflicted on the recusants. They did not repudiate the invitation when it was first addressed to them. By retaining it, and enjoying the advantage of being accounted the king's guests during the interval, they pledged themselves to attend the marriage festival, and honour their sovereign by their presence. Their abrupt refusal at the eleventh hour, after all was ready to receive them, partook of the nature both of breach of engagement and disloyalty. " They would not come." * I have witnessed a process closely analogous, in a small detached island of the Shetland group in which the message sent was an invitation, not figurative but literal, to come and hear the word of the kingdom. It had been previously intimated to the islanders that a minister of the Gospel from the south would preach to them on the occasion of his visit to the neighbour- ing mainland, as the largest island of the group is styled. When the minister and his friends succeeded at length in crossing the Channel, several children were dispatched as messengers in different directions to inform the people that public worship would immediately begin. In a very short time a con- gregation was assembled consisting of the whole population of the island. (9) 17 258 THE ROYAL MARRIAGE FEAST. A second message was sent, more specific and more urgent: but the men met the importunate kindness o< the king with contemptuous mockery : " they made light of it, and went their ways, one to his farm, another to his merchandise." A portion of them carried their opposi- tion beyond supercilious neglect into blood-thirsty enmity ; " the remnant took his servants and entreated them spitefully and slew them." " But when the king heard thereof, he was wroth : and he sent forth his armies, and destroyed those murderers, and burned up their city." As far as appears from the narrative, those who affronted the king by neglect, and those who put his messengers to death, received the same punishment. Although the cruelty perpetrated by some of the conspirators was an aggravation of their guilt, the crime for which they suffered was one of which all alike were guilty,— the crime of despising the king's invitation, and pouring contempt upon his authority. The transaction may have had great political signifi- cance. It was a combination among the aristocracy to thwart the king and dictate to nim a line of policy. They meant by their absence in mass to leave him with- out support, that he might be compelled to court them on their own terms. In such a case only two alternatives are open to the supreme magistrate : he must either sub- mit to the aristocracy and buy them back at their own price, or supersede them by a bold appeal to the common people. Suppose that in this country the Lords should by compact refuse to attend Parliament, for the express' purpose of extorting concessions in favour of themselves by bringing the process of legislation to a stand : the sovereign, in that case, must either submit to the terms of the refractory nobles, or by prerogative create a new PART I.—TBE WEDDING GUESTS. 259 peerage from the plebean ranks. Such, on a minute scale and in a simple form, was the course adopted by the king in this ancient oriental drama. He destroyed their city : it was the king's own city, but he loathed it because of the rebellion of its inhabitants. He took no pleasure in its streets and palaces when their moral glory had departed. The loss of so much property was a small loss ; the gain for the discipline of unborn generations was unspeakably great. The overthrow of the city in which the rebels dwelt would make children's children shudder at the thought of apostasy. The sacrifice of a material interest in order to afford sanction to moral laws is the highest wisdom of government, both human and divine. This principle was adopted on the largest scale after the first rebellion, when the earth was cursed for man's sake. The king took his servants into his counsel. They had suffered in his cause, and he will not conceal from them what he is about to do. " Go ye therefore into the high- ways," — the public places of resort, as well the city's streets as the roads that traverse the country, — " and as many as ye shall find, bid to the marriage." In the first instance the invitation was limited to the class who had a prescriptive right to appear at court ; when these by their perversity had excluded themselves, the king in his sovereignty extended the invitation generally to the common people, — to persons who previously possessed no right of admission, but who obtained the right then and there by the free act of the sovereign. The servants did as they were instructed. They under- stood and executed their commission according to its letter : they brought in " bad and good." As they were not instructed to institute an inquiry into the character 260 THE ROYAL MARRIAGE FEAST. or social position of the persons whom they should invite, they made no distinction ; they swept the streets to fill the royal halls. At this point the parable becomes logically complete, and ijs lesson may be exhibited apart from the addition regarding the wedding garment which immediately follows. It will be more convenient, accordingly, to pro- secute the exposition of the earlier portion by itself, and leave the latter portion to be treated afterwards as sub- stantially a separate lesson. The parable, as far as we have hitherto read it, repeats and extends the warnings previously given regarding the spiritual privileges which the Jews enjoyed and abused, the judgments which had been and still would be poured out upon the nation, and the successful proclamation of the Gospel to the Gentiles, when the natural seed oi Abraham should have in rebellious unbelief rejected the offers of their Lord. The marriage festival made by the king in honour of his son, points manifestly to redemption completed in the incarnation, ministry, death, and resurrection of Christ. Banquets had before this period been provided by the king, and enjoyed by the favoured circle of his guests ; much advantage was possessed by the Jews over the Gentiles in every way, but especially in that to them were committed the oracles of God. But the feast depicted in this parable was the last and best ; it was the way of sal- vation in its completed state. As the king made known his intention before it was carried into effect, and intimated to the guests that they would be summoned as soon as the preparations were complete; so a period of preparation, and promise, and expectation intervened between the incarnation and the sacrifice of Christ. To PART I.— THE WEDDING GUESTS. 261 the Jewish commonwealth the promise was made in the birth of the babe at Bethlehem, and they were invited to be upon the watch for the moment when the kingdom should come in its power. When the fulness of time had come, the Lord himseli undertaking the work as well as assuming the form of a servant, carried to the chosen people the message, " Come, for all things are now ready." His immediate followers and their successors repeated and pressed the invitation. It is worthy of notice that the servants, when they went out with the commission of the king, did not announce the feast as a new thing, then for the first time made known; they spoke of it as that which was promised before, and actually offered them ; they summoned those who had previously been fully informed that the feast was provided for their use. These favoured but unthank- ful people were not taken at their word ; after the first refusal, another and more urgent invitation is sent. The successive reiterated mission of the servants to the class who were orignally invited, may be understood to point to the ministry of the Lord and the seventy until the time of the crucifixion, and the second mission of the apostles after the Pentecost, and under the ministration of the spirit. Both invitations were neglected and rejected by the people to whom they were sent ; Christ came unto his own, and his own received him not. Significant are the differences in the treatment which the message and the messengers received from different classes within the privileged circle of the first invited. We learn here the solemn lesson that though there is much diversity in the degrees of aggravation with which men accompany their rejection of the Saviour, all who do not receive him perish in the same condemnation. At 262 THE ROYAL MARRIAGE FEAST.. first no distinction is made between class and class of unbelievers; of all, and of all alike it is recorded, "they would not come." But when the offer became more pressing and more searching, a difference began to appear, not as yet the difference between the believing and the unbelieving, but a difference in the manner of refusing, and in the degrees of courage or of cowardice that accompanied the act. The greater number treated the message lightly, and preferred their own business to the life eternal which was offered to them in Christ ; while a portion, not content with spurning away the offer, perse- cuted to the death the ambassadors who bore it. The fault of those who are first mentioned takes the form of indolent, frivolous neglect, rather than of active opposition. They were occupied with many other things, and there- fore could not attend to this one ; they were bent on pro- secuting their own gains, and therefore set no value on God's favour.* These two, ungodliness and worldliness, are always found in company; but it is sometimes difficult to deter- mine which of the two goes first, and draws the other after it. You seldom meet a man who neglects this great salvation, and neglects also the gains and the pleasures of life. Those who forget God follow hard after anotherlord, although they may be unable to detect or unwilling to confess their own idolatry. No man can serve two masters ; but every man practically serves one. It may not, however, be easy in any given case to discover whether a man pursues some particular pleasure because * A melancholy interest adheres to the contrast between man's heedless- ness of God as expressed in this parable, d/tteXiJiraiTes, made light of it, did not care for it ; and God's regard for men as expressed in I Peter v. 7, airri uAe! irepi i/iuv, hme had nothing more than convictions and professions, while others had passed from death unto life and had gotten tljieir life, through the Spirit's ministry, " hid with Christ ii^ God." This will more fully appear as we proceed stage bj{ stage with the interpretation. \ " The bridegroom tarried." For a special purpose, it&e Lord represents that the bridegroom lingered till a muofo THE TEN VIRGINS. *9> later hour than that at which the virgins expected him. The disciples, during their Master's ministry and long after- wards, cherished a belief that the coming of the Lord and the end of the world would take place in their own gene- ration. This expectation was, in its literal sense, incorrect ; but it could not be corrected by an explicit announcement that for more than a thousand years all things should continue as they were ; for such an intimation would have destroyed the expectant watchfulness which in the cir- cumstances was salutary and even necessary. By that watchfulness the Christians of the immediately succeed- ing generation escaped the disasters which befell the Jews at the destruction of Jerusalem, and by it believers in sub- sequent times were kept more loose to the world and more close to Christ. In this parable, however, and elsewhere in the Scriptures, prophecies are recorded, which events subsequently explained,— prophecies which showed the Christians of a later age that while their Lord desires to keep them in an expectant attitude through all genera- tions, his intention from the beginning was to permit a long period to intervene between his ascension and his return. The preparation which , Christ desires and true Christians attain, pertains more to the inner spirit than to the anticipation of the external advent. While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. At this point many interpreters endeavour to grasp a lesson regarding the tendency of even true disciples ta slumber sinfully at their post, like their worldly neighbours. The lesson is in itself good, and comes readily to hand, but it is not taught in this text. Calvin has correctly con-' eeived and clearly expressed the meaning of the sleep that oppressed the waiting virgins; it intimates the ne- cessity that lies on all of going down into the ordinary «9 2 THE TEN VIRGINS. affairs of this life. Disciples in the body cannot be occu- pied always and only with the expectation of their Lord's appearing. Sleep and food, family and business, make demands on them as well as on others, — demands which they cannot and should not resist. If the coming of the bridegroom be delayed till midnight, the virgins must slumber; this is not a special weakness of individuals, it is the common necessity of nature. So, when life is leng- thened in the body, we must attend to the affairs of this world. The coming of the Son of man may surprise one at his farm and another at his merchandise, but it does not fol- low, on that account, that it will surprise them unprepared. Now and then in the histoiy of the Church a Christian has been found dead in his closet and on his knees. A few years ago, in a rural district of Scotland, an elder who was leading the devotions of a district prayer-meeting suddenly ceased to speak, — ceased in the middle of a sen- tence, in the middle of a prayer. The worshippers opened their eyes, and observed that his head and breast leant heavily on the desk ; they approached and found him dead. At the moment when the bridegroom came this watcher was wide awake, standing on tiptoe, and straining forward to catch the first glimpse of the glory that should herald his approach. When the bridegroom came this watcher went out to meet him, and" went in with him to the feast: safe and happy he, but not he only. On the other side we hear sometimes of a merchant who died in his counting-house, his ledger, not the Bible, the last book he had read ; of a miner killed in an instant by an explosion while he was picking coals in the bowels of the earth ; of a soldier falling on a battle-field, while his right hand raised the sword to strike a foe ; these Were THE TEN VIRGINS. 293 all slumbering and off guard when the bridegroom came What of them ? were they all shut out ? Nay, verily Some of them were shut out, and some were let in, ac- cording as they were carnal or spiritual when the de- cisive moment came. The new creature in Christ, who is surprised amid the toils of his daily calling, goes as safely into rest as his brother of the same family who is summoned over in the very act of prayer. The five wise virgins were stretched on the ground asleep, with their lamp fires dead or dying, when the cry arose, Behold the bridegroom cometh, and yet there was no surprise, and no damage. Although they were only awakened by his coming, they were ready to meet him when he came, and to enter with him into his rest. When the cry was heard all those virgins arose and trimmed their lamps. When life is closing behind, and eternity opening before us, we are all aroused. Every one who has a lamp hastens then to examine its condition and stimulate its flame: all who have borne Christ's name search themselves to see whether they are ready for his presence: There is no visible distinction at this stage between those who have only a name that they live, and those who have attained also the new nature: all bestir themselves to examine the ground of their hope, and the state of their preparation. {y At this point the decisive difference which existed in secret long before emerges into view. The foolish virgins, having no oil in separate vessels, could not keep the flame of their lamps any longer alive. Both classes had a pro- fession ; the formalists had a profession and nothing more. Finding in the hour of their extremity that they had ne- glected their souls while the day of grace was running, they make a piteous appeal to believing neighbours for 294 THE TEN. VIRGINS. help. " Give us of your oil, for our lamps are gone out " How true to nature is this picture ! He who draws it knows " what is in man." How fondly the empty, in such a crisis, lean on the full. ' Alas, even the full is but a little vessel filled by Christ. That vessel is not a spring ; this saved sinner is not a saviour of sinners. He has gotten from his Lord all that himself needs ; but he cannot supply a neighbour's want. Brother, if the call come to you while you are not in Christ reconciled and renewed, though all the saints in heaven and earth stood weeping at your bedside < ^the y could not save you. If you neglect the Son of God while he stands at the door and knocks, in vain will you ap- ply to a godly neighbour, after the day of grace is done. Taking into view generally the intimate relations which Subsisted among that group of maidens, and in particular the unselfish tenderness which must have characterized the wiser five, we should expect to learn that they had generously resolved, at all hazards, to share their oil to the last drop with their unfortunate companions. But this, though consonant with nature in the external body of the parable, would have been 'incongruous with the spiritual truth which the parable has been framed to con- vey. In the structure of the parable provision is made for defining sharply the spiritual lesson, even at the ex- pense of some measure of harshness left on one feature of the story. True Christians cannot impart a share of the grace that dwells in their own hearts to deluded forma- lists in their departing hour. On the spiritual side such , a distinction cannot be made, and therefore the Master represents the wise virgins as distinctly and peremptorily refusing to share their store of oil with their improvident companions.* ' * They turn themselves to the wise, whom, perhaps, they had lately THE TEN VIRGINS. 295 " Go to them that sell, and buy for yourselves." The advice was the best that in the circumstances could be given. The mention of " them that sell " calls up all the scene of the preceding day. Oil was plentiful in the town ; the five wise virgins having gone by daylight to the stores with their vessels, had experienced no difficulty in obtaining a supply. The same method was open to the rest : they failed to secure a store in the daytime, and then they tried in vain to make good the deficiency at midnight, after the merchants had retired to rest. This feature of the parable intimates that those who are found destitute at the coming of the Lord, enjoyed their day and their opportunity, but neglected them: they allowed the day of mercy to run out, and cried frantically for mercy, after the merciful Saviour had wearied waiting and gone away. While the foolish virgins are absent on this errand, the bridegroom comes up. They that are ready go in with him to the wedding, and the door is shut. Christ calls away his own at some midnight hour when they are off their guard ; but though surprised, they are 1 not hurt. The five wise virgins were asleep when the approach of the bridegroom was announced, and yet they were ready to meet him. Their safety resulted not from their fluttering activity at that moment in the trimming of the lamps, but from their wise, foresight on the preceding laughed at, with the prayer : " Give us of your oil, for our lamps are gone out." They betake themselves, if they are Catholics, to the dead saints, if they are Protestants, to the living, whom they have been accustomed to re- vere as their guides on account of their wisdom and grace, and plead, Help us, comfort us, pray for us, that we may be brought into a state of grace. In vain. They answer : Not so, lest there be not enough for us and you. What you desire is impossible. None of us has any surplus merit out of which he could give a portion to another. — Amdt, ii. 177. , 296 THE TEA' VIRGINS. day. The salvation of a soul depends not on frightened earnestness in the moment of departure, but on faith's calm closing with Christ, before the moment of departure comes. In the vessels of the wise there was store of oil, and it was easy for them at any time or place to refresh the fading fire of the torches which they bore. Deep in the hearts of those disciples dwelt the spirit of Christ, and the light of their profession which had shone brightly in a time of ease, burst into greater brightness in the hour of their extremity. An abundant entrance was adminis- tered to them, — an entrance into the joy of their Lord. The door was shut ! Suffering, sorrowing believers, do you hear the clang of that closing gate! Be of good cheer, disciples; when your Lord and you go in, the door is shut behind you, and nothing shall enter that defileth. Heaven is for the holy, and for them alone; if it were open for all it would not be heaven. The foolish virgins went away after midnight to seek a supply of oil ; but we are not informed whether or not they obtained it. The omission is significant; this word of Jesus gives no encouragement to delay in the matter of the soul's salvation ; not a ray of hope is permitted to burst through the gloom that shrouds these hapless wanderers. . The sole lesson of the parable is a simple, sublime warning that sinners should close with Christ now, lest they should be left to invoke his name in vain at the hour of their departure. This parable is a voice from an open heaven promising all grace now, but refus- ing to promise any then. They came afterwards to the door and cried bitterly for admission, but the Lord answered from within, I know you not. As the omniscient he knew them; he was acquainted with all their ways. He knew them, for they THE TEN VIRGINS. 297 had crucified him afresh by their neglect. But he did not know them, as he knew the poor bashful woman who crept near in the crowd and by her touch drew saving grace from his overflowing heart ; he did not know them by feeling their weight, like John's, leaning on his breast.* After the parable is finished the marrow of its meaning is given in one short sentence by the Lord : "Watch, therefore, for ye know ne ithgrt he day nor t he hour wherein _ jhe_Soa_of_ man cometh." Let us take heed here, lest after all the pains we have bestowed on this scripture, we should miss the portion for ourselves with which it is charged. This parable was not spoken for the purpose of kindling an agony of repentance in the hour of death. It describes ^, sudden call, and an eager upstarting, and a fruitless effort, and a right prayer uttered too late, and a final rejection, and a fearful doom, — but it reveals this dreadful close of a life, in order to show us what we should be and do before the close of life comes on. The end of the foolish five is unveiled in order that we may be wise * The concluding application is well expressed by Arndt : — " Perhaps the breaking heart grasps at the Bible ; it has only spikes and nails, but no balm of consolation. Perhaps the dying man calls in those who have the care of souls ; the words of comfort slide over the ears, while the Holy Spirit seals none of them upon the heart. Perhaps he partakes of the Holy Supper : ah, the feast is to him not a feast of blessings, but an eating of judgment. Perhaps he prays to the Lord himself: the Lord answers, I know you not. Oh, it is sad to be so near heaven, and yet to be lost — to be almost saved, and yet altogether lost. Were it not the Lord who speaks here, Jesus Christ, the Life Eternal, the Judge of the living and the dead, our feeling would be mightily to resist the terrible conclusion of this parable, which cuts all and every hope clean away, and leaves not an If or a But behind, nor any other possible interpretation. But he speaks ; and before his words every mouth is silent in fear and adoration. He writes into out breast; with a glowing iron pen, the warning word — therefore watch, &c Short is life ; fleeting is time ; quick is death ; long is eternity. There fore what thou desirest to do, do it quickly." — Gleichnisse. *9 8 THE TEN VIRGINS. unto salvation in the beginning of our days. The light- house reared on a sunken reef flings its lurid glare far through a stormy air and over a stormy sea, not to teach the mariner how to act with vigour when he is among the breakers, but to warn him back, so that he may never fall among the breakers at all. Even so, the end of the lost is revealed in the word of God, not to urge us to utter a very loud cry when the door is shut, but to compel us to enter now while the door is open. " Behold I stand at the door and knock." His word to-day runs, Soul, soul, open for me : if that tender plea is echoed back from your closed heart in a beseeching Saviour's face to-day, your cry, "Lord, Lord, open to me" will come back to you in empty echoes from a closed heaven. ^/The foolish five came to the door only a little too late, but it was not a little damage that they suffered thereby. In the matter of fleeing to take refuge in Christ, to be late by a little is the loss of all. XIV. THE ENTRUSTED TALENTS. For the kingdom of heaven is as a man travelling into a far country, who called his own servants, and delivered unto them his goods. And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and to another one ; to every man according to his several ability ; and straightway took his journey. Then he that had received the five talents went and traded with the same, and made thein other five talents. And likewise he that had received two, he also gained other two. But he that had received one went and digged in the earth, and hid his lord's money. After a long' time the lord of those servants cometh, and reckoneth with them. And so he that had received five talents came and brought other five talents, saying, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me five talents : behold, I have gained beside them five talents more. His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things : enter thou into the joy of thy lord. He also that had received two talents came and said, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me two talents : behold, I have gained two other talents beside them. His lord said unto him, Well done, good and faithful servant ; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things : enter thou into the joy of thy lord. Then he which had received the one talent came and said, Lord, I knew thee that thou art an hard man, reaping where thou hast not sown, and gathering where thou hast not strawed : and I was afraid, and went and hid thy talent in the earth : lo, there thou hast that is thine. His lord answered and said unto him, Thou wicked and slothful servant, thou knewest that I reap where I sowed not, and gather where I have not strawed : thou oughtest there- fore to have put my money to the exchangers, and then at my coming I should have received mine own with usury. Take therefore the talent from him, and give it unto him which hath ten talents. For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance : but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath. And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness : there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth." — Matt. xxv. 14-30. jHE owner of a large property has occasion to leave the country for a time and reside in a foreign land. His possessions, consisting of "his own servants" and "his goods," must necessarily be left in the country, and naturally he con- siders how he may so dispose of them during the in- 300 THE ENTRUSTED TALENTS. terval that they may yield to him the largest profit at his return. Two distinct principles were open to his choice corresponding to the method,s of day's-wages and piece-work in modern social economics ; he might either confide to his servants generally the management of his estate, and give them wages according to time, or give each a certain amount of capital, to be exclusively at his own disposal, promising to reward him according to his diligence and success. The latter method is obvi- ously the one which contains a spring within itself con- stantly urging to diligence. With a set of slaves who are ignorant, degraded, and suspicious, this plan would not be practicable, but if the men possess a certain amount of moral principle, self-reliance, and intelligence, it is safest and best. The master accordingly, counting on the good-will and honesty of his dependants, frankly entrusts each with a certain amount of capital, graduated according to their capacity for business. Nothing is said in the record regarding the terms of the compact, but it is implied that these were clearly understood between the parties. The money was given in order that it might be laid out to the best advantage, primarily for the owner's interest, and secondarily for the due remuneration of the faithful ser- vant. This practice was carried to a great extent among the Romans; the owner of a skilful slave could make a greater profit by giving scope to the man's energies than by confining him forcibly to menial occupation. It is by no means necessary to determine the precise character of the bond which united the servant to his master in this case. The circumstances of the parable will suit equally the supposition of absolute right on the part of the master and a voluntary contract between him THE ENTRUSTED TALENTS. 301 and his servant for a limited time. Whatever may have been the amount of service due to the master at the time of his departure, — whether the whole life and energy of a slave, or a limited quantity of work from a servant, — that service was his property, and he desired to turn it to the best account. Two of the servants traded with the capital entrusted to their charge and doubled it ere the master returned ; one from a morbid dread of his master's severity, coupled with indolence in his personal habits, hid the money in the ground, thereby deliberately sacrificing his master's profit in order that himself might incur no risk. The two who had successfully traded were commended and rewarded ; the one who allowed his talent to lie idle was condemned and punished for his unfruitfulness, although no positive dishonesty was laid to his charge.* We are now ready to proceed with the exposition. The proprietor who went abroad represents Christ at the close of his ministry on earth leaving his disciples and ascending to heaven. His continued presence spiritually with his people is not inconsistent with this representa- tion, for our parable deals with the bodily and the visible. His own servants, whom he called, like the ten virgins who went out to meet the bridegroom, represent the whole number of those who are called by his name and seem to be his disciples. The delivery of the master's goods to these servants intimates that the Lord gives to every member of the visible Church all his faculties and opportunities. In this distribution different amounts are consigned to * For the relation between the talents and the pounds, see the exposition of the latter parable. —the last of the series. 302 THE ENTRUSTED TALENTS. different persons. Here the representation obviously accords with the fact : of time, of intellect, of health, of learning, of wealth, scarcely any two persons possess a precisely equal portion. There is a clause here generally overlooked by expositors, but which must be intended to express some feature of importance, — " to every one ac- cording to his several ability." We can easily understand it as it occurs in the story: the master, at the moment of his departure, graduated his gifts according to the abilities and acquirements of the servants that he might not throw a great responsibility on a weak man, or leave a man of vigour only half employed. What doctrine does this feature represent? Probably that, while all the gifts that a man possesses are bestowed by God, some, such as bodily constitution and mental capacity are con- ferred by God as governor of the world ; while others are subsequently conferred by the Lord Jesus as the king and head of the Church. I am inclined to understand these latter gifts by the goods which the master bestowed on the eve of his departure; these gifts are in some way proportioned to the faculties of the receiver, so that one may not be oppressed and another left with inadequate occupation. The one who received most and the one who received a medium amount of gifts and opportunities proved both faithful, and both faithful alike. Although the first did ab- solutely more for Christ and the world than the second, both were equally diligent and faithful according to their means. Examples both of the likeness and the difference occur by hundreds day by day before our eyes. A disciple with greater and a disciple with smaller endowments labour in the Lord's work with equal love, but the amount of fruit is greater where greater gifts and graces have been THE ENTRUSTED TALENTS. 303 received and employed. We shall learn soon how the two cases are treated at the master's return, but in the meantime we have observed what the two cases are. The servant who had received one talent went and digged in the earth, and hid his lord's money. The mean- ing of his conduct and its result we shall discover more fully when we reach the record of the reckoning ; at present, and in general, we may understand that this man made no effort to serve his lord, but devoted himself exclusively to one aim, — that he might be able to stand at last on the plea that he had at least done his lord no harm. These three examples are obviously given in order to cover all cases : they represent an indefinite and all but infinite variety in the measure of the gifts. Two are represented to have been diligent and only one indolent, but no information is thereby given regard- ing the proportions of mankind in general or within the Church who shall be found faithful in the great day] Two, cases were required in order to show that, where the diligence of the workers is equal, the result may, iri quantity, be unequal ; and a third case was required to show that, besides some who lack the power to do much, there are some who lack the will to do anything at all ; the numbers have no other meaning. Another very important question is suggested here, — What is meant by the representation that the person who possessed only one talent became unfaithful, rather than the person who possessed two, or the person who possessed five ? It is precisely analogous to the repre- sentation contained in another parable that one man, and not ten or twenty, came to the marriage-feast without a : marriage garment. Most certainly it does not mean that 304 THE ENTRUSTED TALENTS. those who have few talents are more liable to be un- faithful than those who have many ; and yet something is gained by making the servant who had received one talent rather than the servant who had received five, the example of unfaithfulness. It does not mean, If you have only one talent you will be unfaithful ; but it does mean, Although you have only one talent, you will be condemned for unfaithfulness if you do not employ it. The lesson is much more emphatically given than if the servant who received five talents had proved unfaithful. Much of the master's property was entrusted to him : if he had permitted it to lie waste, and been punished ac- cordingly, it might have been supposed that the essence of the guilt lay in the largeness of the loss. As it is faithfulness, without regard to the amount of capital at stake, that determines the sentence of approval ; so it is unfaithfulness, without regard to the amount involved, that determines the sentence of condemnation. He who has least is bound to serve the Lord with what he has ; and if he serve the Lord faithfully with little, he will be honoured and rewarded, while those who had greater gifts, but less diligence, will be cast out. Every one possesses some talents. He who has be- stowed them expects that we shall diligently improve them. He has departed, but he desires that we should act as in his presence. In this respect he is never absent — " Lo, I am with you alway." Now is the time for lay- ing out our gifts in the Lord's service ; for it will be too late to begin, in terror, when he comes to judgment. " After a long time the Lord of those servants cometh and reckoneth with them" (ver. 19). The time is not long in the account of the Lord himself: his latest warn- ing to the Church is, " Behold I come quickly ;" and with THE ENTRUSTED TALENTS. 305 him a thousand years are as one day. Nor is the time long to ungodly men ; for in such an hour as they think not, the Son of man cometh. At whatever time he comes, he comes too soon for them who would give all the world, if it were theirs, that he should not come at all. But to the true disciples of Christ, especially in times of perse- cution, the period of his absence has often appeared long: they have often borrowed the unbeliever's cry, " Where is the promise of his coming ?" and used it with a new significance. But to saints and sinners, whether they long for his presence or loathe it, he certainly will come at length. The two who had received from their Lord unequal gifts, and had laid them out with equal faithfulness, give in their account with joy. They are equally approved ; and either is rewarded with the fruit of his own diligence. The case of the unfaithful one, in accordance with the obvious design of the parable, is given with much greater fulness of detail than those of the faithful two. Per- mitting our comment on this point to mould itself after the proportions of the text, we shall look more narrowly into this man's character and conduct. All the more willingly shall we devote the most of our attention to the darker side of the picture, that the evangelical obedience of the faithful servants may be most distinctly seen in the dark mirror of the opposite unfruitfulness. In the case of the unprofitable servant, as it emerges in the latter portion of the parable, three points demand our attention separately and successively, — the Reason, the Nature, and the Reward of his unfaithfulness. 1. The reason of his unfaithfulness, as explained by himself, is, " I knew thee that thou art an hard man," &c. The naive confession of this man is a very interesting (» 20 306 THE ENTRUSTED TALENTS. feature of the! story, and a very precious lesson to us regarding the deep things of God. Through this opening light is thrown at once upon the spring of continued dis- obedience in human hearts, and upon the nature of the remedy which the ailment needs. Some persons take much pains to extol a good life at the expense of the mysteries of grace. They know not that they are endeavouring to break the upper links of a chain, while themselves are suspended on the lower. All the value of service rendered by intellectual and moral beings depends on the thoughts of God which they entertain ; and the thoughts which they entertain of God depend on the attitude in which he presents himself to them — that is, upon the revelation of the Father in the person and work of the Son. Obviously the conception which this man had formed of his master's character, was the direct efficient cause of his unprofitable idleness. The picture, at this point, represents a human heart secretly conscious of guilt, not reconciled through the Gospel, and dreading the wrath of the righteous Judge. When one is at peace with God in the Redeemer, perfect love casteth out fear ; but here, in the absence of this reconciliation, perfect fear casteth out love. Love is the fulfilling of the law ; and without love there can, in God's sight, be no obedience. Thus, by a few links which can neither be obscured nor broken, active obedience is bound to faith in Christ. Where faith in the Mediator is wanting, God, as shown in a guilty con- science, is dreaded as an enemy ; and such fear produces no obedience. You might as well sow stones in your field, and expect them to produce bread. It is not necessary to examine in detail the continu- ation of the unfaithful servant's answer. When he had THE ENTRUSTED TALENTS. 30J taken his ground on a sullen plea of not guilty which threw the blame upon his Lord, it was natural that he should endeavour to justify himself and fortify his posi- tion by specific averments of hard treatment ; but the essence of his answer lies all in his first words, " I knew thee hard." The meaning cannot be mistaken here. These words do not make known to us what the master's character really" was : the only thing which they deters mine is the servant's conception of the master's character. The servant's conduct is, in point of fact, regulated not by what the master absolutely is, but by what he is in the belief and regard of the servant. The parable represents at once, with rich pictorial effect and strict logical exactness, the legal relation of sinful men to a righteous God, apart from the peace that comes through the Gospel. While you think of the Judge, recording now your thoughts, words, and actions, in order to render unto you what you deserve in the great day, you cannot love him, and you do not like to retain the knowledge of him in your mind. The Bible calls him good, and perhaps your lips have pronounced him good in your prayers and hymns ; but what you really know of him in your heart is his hardness. This hard measure expected, haunts you like a spectre, and casts a dark shadow over your path. Whatever your ears may hear or your lips may speak, you know God only as the disturber of your joy in life, and the inexor- able exactor of impossible penalties at last. The natural and necessary, as well as actual result of this knowledge or conception of the master, is the utter idleness of the servant. Tell a criminal in chains that by his own hands he must remove yonder mountain into the sea in the space of one year, on pain of death when the 308 THE ENTRUSTED TALENTS. year is done, and the certain result will be that the wretched man will permit the appointed time to expire without removing a single atom of its mass ; but on the other hand, let it be gently intimated to some emancipated slaves that their service in removing earth from that mountain to the sea will please their deliverer, and forth- with they will carry with all their might, their burden meanwhile being their delight, because they have thereby an opportunity of serving the Lord that bought them. Thus the idleness of one servant is explained, and the activity of others. 2. As to its nature, the disobedience was not active but passive; he did not positively injure his master's property; he simply failed to turn it to profitable account. The terror of this servant was too lively to admit of his enjoy- ing a debauch purchased by the treasure which had been placed under his charge. Fear is a powerful motive in certain directions and for certain effects; it makes itself felt in the heart, and leaves its mark on the life of a man. Like frost it has power to arrest the stream of energy, and fix it cold, stiff, montionless ; only love can, like the sun of summer, break the chains and set the prisoner free to run his race rejoicing. The passive character of the servant's fault greatly ex- tends the sphere of the lesson, and increases the weight of its rebuke. If only positive activity in evil had been condemned, a multitude of the unfaithful would have escaped, or at least would have thought themselves ex- empted from the indictment. The bearers of poisonous fruit constitute a comparativelysmall class in the vegetable creation; the plants that bear no good fruit are much more numerous. Unfruitfulness includes both those that bear bad fruit and those that bear no fruit. The idleness THE ENTRUSTED TALENTS. 309 of the servant who knew his master only as a hard man, reproves all except those who obey the Lord whom they love, and love the Lord whom they obey. 3. The reward of unfaithfulness is, "Take the talent from him and cast him out. In both parts the sentence of condemnation corresponds to its. opposite in the recep- tion of those who had been faithful to their trust. These retain their employed gifts; from him the unused talent is taken away. These are received into their master's favour ; he is cast out of his master's sight. It is worthy of remark that the execution of the sentence begins in time, and in its first stages lies within the reach of our observation. The portion of the sentence, more- over, which is inflicted in our sight, comes through the regular operation of law. The disuse of any personal, faculty, surely, though gradually, takes the faculty away. Those who explain away the positive doctrines and facts of the Gospel, delight in representing that God does everything by the instrumentality of law. It is super- stition, they say, to suppose that he will put forth his hand to arrest the mighty machinery of nature, with a view either to punish your guilt or reward your obedience. Here at least we can meet them on their own ground, and accept their rule. Let any member of the body, or any faculty of the mind lie dormant for a time, and by the very fact, its power is diminished or destroyed. It is a law of life that a talent becomes feeble in proportion as it has been left in idleness. It is not only true in point of fact that when we do not diligently lay out our gifts, the Giver recalls them ; it is further true, that he recalls them in our sight by the silent operation of an inexorable law. To waste life in the hope of getting all made right by 310 THE ENTRUSTED TALENTS. an energetic repentance at the close, is a very foolish and mischievous species of superstition ; it is the exercise of a very strong faith, without any promise from God on which it may lean. You seem to expect that God will arrest the operation of his own laws in order to afford you every facility for living in sin. In the Scriptures we read of an interference with the natural laws — the sun standing still — in order that the enemies of the Lord and his people might be destroyed ; but you expect a greater miracle ; — you expect the Omnipotent to arrest the operation of his own laws, in order that his enemies may prosper now and escape at last. You expect that Jesus will work a miracle not to cast out the unclean spirit, but to maintain him in possession of a human heart. The disuse of the talent takes the talent away; this is the law of the king- dom ; and it will not be changed in order to encourage the sinner in his sin. " For unto every one that hath shall be given," &c. Obviously from the whole circumstances of the case, " to have " in this connection, means to possess and use aright. He who received only one talent was distinguished from him who received five, not by not having, but by not using. The law announced here is that they who employ well what they have, shall retain it all and receive more in addition ; whereas they who do not rightly employ what they have, will be deprived of that which they possess but do not use. Fearing lest I should darken counsel by words without knowledge, I leave the positive penal infliction, which takes effect beyond the precincts of this life, without one word of comment, in the short and solemn words of the Scripture, " Cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness : there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth " THE ENTRUSTED TALENTS. 3 1 1 The sentence " Take it from him," goes before the sen- tence, " Cast him out." A sinner is given over to himself, before he is given up to judgment. The first prepares the way for the second death ; the process is now going on by which the destiny is decided. Now is the accepted time ; now either salvation or condemnation is wrought out. See the process and the path of death ; the steps are few and well marked. I knew thee hard, and I hid thy talent ; ' take it from him, and cast him out. The cor- responding steps on the other side are, I tasted thy tender mercy, and lovingly laid thy talent out ; give the faithful servant more, and lead him into the joy of his Lord. The stumbling-block at the outset that turned the un- faithful servant aside was his conception of the Lord as a hard master: it is the experience of the master's love that impels the servant forward in the path of duty. When we know God in Christ, we know him reconciled to our- selves. Christ, therefore, is the way ; by him we go in to the Father for acceptance, and by him we go out for needful work upon the world. Without me ye can get nothing from God ; " Without me ye can do nothing " foi God. XV. THE SEED GROWING SECRETLY. 4 And he said, So is the kingdom of God, as if a man should cast seed into the ground ; and should sleep, and rise night and day, and the seed should spring and grow up, he knoweth not how. For the earth hringeth forth fruit of herself; first the blade, then the ear, after that the full com in the ear. But when the fruit is brought forth, immedi- ately he putteth in the sickle, because the harvest is come." — Mark iv. 26-29. |HIS is the only parable that is peculiar to Mark. The subjects contained in the fourth chapter of Mark are obviously the same, in the main, as those which occupy the thirteenth chapter of Matthew. The parable of the sower occurs in both at the beginning ; and at several other parts they coincide. The parable of the seed growing secretly holds in Mark the place that the parable of the leaven holds in Matthew. We might, therefore, expect a close analogy between these two parables : and accordingly we find in point of fact that they exhibit the same characteristics of the kingdom, and convey the same lessons to its subjects. When a man has cast the seed into prepared ground at the proper season, he thenceforth leaves it to itself, He sleeps by night, and attends to other affairs by day, often looking to it indeed, and oftener thinking of it, but never touching it till harvest. By its own vitality it grows secretly, gradually until it arrives at maturity. Man in- terferes only at the beginning and at the end ; in spring he sows, and in autumn he reaps, but throughout the THE SEED GROWING SECRETL Y. 313 interval between these extremes he lets it alone. The point on which the parable concentrates our regard is, that the growth of the plant, from the time of sowing to the time of reaping, proceeds according to its own laws, and in virtue of its own inherent power, neither visible to the owner's eye nor dependent on his hand. In the interpretation of the parable certain great leading points must first be determined, and then all the rest will be safe and easy. There are two such points, one at the beginning and one at the end, which are in themselves uncertain; and one in the middle which, being itself determined by cir- cumstances, serves to determine the other two. The question at the beginning is, Who is the sower ? And the question at the end, What is the reaping ? The point in the centre already fixed, on which the two extremities depend, is the growth of the seed without the aid, and even beyond the cognisance, of the sower. Look first to the question which meets an inquirer at the outset, Who is the sower ? Obviously it has two sides and two only ; the sower represents either the Lord himself, or the human ministry that he employs from age to age. Both representations are in themselves true and scriptural; it is by means of other features less am- biguous that we shall be able to determine whether of the two is adopted in this parable. Try first the supposition that the sower is the Lord himself; . of him, in that case, it is immediately said that he sleeps, and rises night and day, and that the seed meanwhile springs up, he knows not how. This representation is palpably incongruous with the attributes and character of the Lord. The things that are hidden from us, both in the natural and spiritual growth, are open in his sight. Expressly it is said of Jesus. 3' 4 THE SEED GROWING SECRETLY. "he knew what was in man;" and we learn, from many circumstances in the evangelic history, that he knew the thoughts alike of plotting enemies and of fainting friends. The suggestion made by some that this part of the parable may be understood to represent the Lord's ascension into heaven, after having sown the word in his own ministry, does not satisfy the demands of the case. We cannot, without doing extreme violence to the analogy, find a sense in which the divine Redeemer does not help and does not know the growth of his own grace in believ- ing hearts. The germination and increase of vegetation without the intervention of the sower and beyond his ken, represent a helplessness and an ignorance so definite and complete, that we cannot, on any rule of sober inter- pretation, apply it to the omniscient and omnipotent Redeemer. The impossibility of acceptingthe first suggestion throws us necessarily back on the only other supposition that remains ; — the sower in the parable must represent the earthen vessel to which the ministry of the Gospel has been entrusted, — the human agent employed in the work of the Lord. This will, of course, accord perfectly with the representation in the heart of the parable that he who sows the seed neither helps the growth nor understands its secrets ; but does it accord also with the representation, in the end of the parable, that he who in spring sowed the seed, thrusts in his sickle and reaps the ripened harvest ? Some, assuming that the reaping means the closing of all accounts in the great day,* conclude that to represent the sowing as the ministry of men is incongruous with the * Dr Trench takes for granted, without a word of proof, or any evidence that he has even considered the question, that the reaping is the consumma- tion of all things, the exclusive prerogative of the Lord. THE SEED GROWING SECRETLY. 3*S reaping, which must, as they suppose, be the work of the Lord at his second coming. In this way they become involved between two impossibilities. If the Lord him- self is represented as the sower the representation is in- consistent with the middle of the parable, in which it is declared that he neither aids nor understands the growth of the grain ; if, on the other hand, men are represented as the sowers, the representation is inconsistent with the end of the parable, in which it is declared that they thrust in the sickle at the close of the dispensation and reap the harvest of the world. Now in order to escape from this double difficulty it is not necessary to put to the rack either the words or the thoughts of the parable. The path out of the difficulty is broad and straight ; it is the path into it that is crooked and narrow. The question which demands solution here, and which, when solved, will solve all the rest, is, What is meant by thrusting in the sickle and reaping the ripened grain when the harvest has come ? Apart from this parable two dis- tinct significations may be attributed to the analogy, both alike true' in fact, and both alike adopted in the Scriptures. In some cases the harvest and the reaping point to the end of the world and the awards of the judgment; expressly in the Lord's own interpretation of the parable of the tares, it is said, " The harvest is the end of the world, and the reapers are the angels " (Matt. xiii. ,39). But in other cases the reaping of the ripened grain is employed to re- present that success in the winning of souls which human ministers of the word jtnay obtain and enjoy. Such is its meaning in Ps. cxxvi. 6, " He that goeth forth and reapeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." In the same 316 THE SEED GROWING SECRETLY. sense it is employed by the Lord (John iv. 35, 36), "Say not ye, There are yet four months, and then cometh har- vest ? behold I say unto you, Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields ; for they are white already unto harvest. And he that reapeth receiveth wages, and gathereth fruit unto life eternal : that both he that soweth and he that reapeth may rejoice together." The same idea is expressed in terms, if possible, still more articulate, in Matt. ix. 37, 38. " The harvest truly is plenteous, but the labourers are few; pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he will send forth labourers unto his harvest." * But while the symbol taken from the reaping of ripened grain represents alternately in Scripture, these two dis- tinct though analogous conceptions, it is the latter and not the former which this parable adopts and employs. The reapers are the human ministers of the word, and the reaping is their successful ingathering in conversion here, not the admission of the redeemed into glory at the end of the world. No other conclusion is compatible, either with the scope of the lesson or the facts of the case. The sower in this story neither helps the seed to grow nor understands how the growth proceeds. The parable is spoken in order to * Bengel's suggestion is ingenious and interesting, but contributes nothing towards the solution. " Sermo concisus. Mittet falce preditos, nam airoa- TtXketrBtu est viventis cujuspiam." He would understand the phrase "he putteth in the sickle " as a curt form of expression, intended to intimate that he sends out reapers with sickles to reap the grain ; fortifying his opinion by the remark that the term "putteth in," (cwroin-eXXei, " sends out,") refers to a living person, and not an inanimate instrument. Countenance for this view might be found in Matt. ix. 37 where eic^oXeiK equivalent to a7rocn-eX- \etr0at is employed to indicate the sending forth of reapers. On the other hand, however, the passage, Rev. xiv. 15, 16, goes decidedly against it; for there both irennrew and j3aX\uv, " thrust in" (the sickle) are certainly applied to the instrument itself, and not to the men who wield it. THE SEED GROWING SECRETLY. 3*7 show that, while men are employed at first to preach the word and at last to gather the fruits in the conversion of their brethren, they can neither perform the converting work nor trace the footsteps of the quickening Spirit in the secrets of a human heart. By this similitude the Lord represents the extent and the limits of human agency in the progress of his kingdom. Having made our way through the difficulties of the parable, and found the key-note of its interpretation, we turn again to its terms for the sake of observing and applying the practical lessons which it contains. The sower sows the seed ; the seed is the word ; the hearts of those who hear it are the field. Parents make known the Gospel in their families, ministers in the con- gregations, teachers in the schools. These sowers lose sight of the seed from the moment that it drops into the ground. It sinks and disappears ; they must go away and leave it. They sleep by night,* and attend to other matters by day ; they cannot see how it fares with the Gospel in a neighbour's soul. They cannot put their hand to the. work at this stage to help it : the seed must be left to itself in the soil. At this point the likeness between the natural and the spiritual is exact and obvious. When you have made the Gospel of Christ known to some in whom you are interested, you are precisely in the position of the agri- culturist who has committed his seed to the ground. If you think of the matter when you lie down, or when you awake, you discover, perhaps with pain, that you do not * Here, as in the case of the tares, the sleep of the husbandman implies no culpable negligence either in the natural or spiritual sphere. "Sind wir am Tage recht wach ; dann, mogen wir Nachts ruhig schlafen."— Driiseke, vom Reich G. 3»8 THE SEED G&OWING SECRETLY. know whether the seed is swelling and springing or not : and that though you knew its condition you could not reach it, to stimulate the process. It is out of your hands, and out of your sight. It is not, however, out of mind, when it is out of sight ; and your own helplessness may draw forth a more eager prayer to the Almighty Helper. In this way it is when we are weak that we become strong; it is when we are made most keenly sensible of our own weakness that we cast our care most fully on the Lord. The law that shuts the sown seed out from us, shuts it in with God. One door closes ; but the closing that hides the seed in its seed-bed from our eyes and separates it from our hands, leaves it open to His sight, and pliant to his power. The moment that the seed is sown, he takes it out of our sight, but then and thereby he brings it into his own. It is away from us, and with God.* The parable shows, with great perspicuity and cer- tainty, both the extent and the limits of this with- drawal from human cognizance and help. In the main concern the exclusion is complete ; but in some sub- ordinate and incidental matters, it is only partial. As to the power of germination, and the knowledge of it, the sower is entirely shut out from the seed, both in the natural and spiritual departments. But as he may con- tinue his care in nature, with much profit to the seed ; so he may, in a subordinate capacity and in an indirect manner, do much to promote the growth of grace in the heart, after the Word has been addressed to the under- standing. The exclusion of a minister, a teacher, a * Like the seed, is the Word himself. He became flesh and dwelt among us ; but he has ascended out of our sight. At the beginning he came into the -world ; and at the close he will return ; — a spring and a harvest, but all the space between, he is out of sight. THE SEED GROWING SECRETLY. 3 19 parent, from knowing and helping the growth of grace after the Gospel has been published, is like the ex- clusion of the farmer from his seed after it has been com- mitted to the ground. He can help it, and does help it much by his care. He keeps the fences up, that the field may not be trampled by stray cattle: he keeps the drains open and the furrows clear, that water may not stand on the field, but run off as soon as it falls : he gathers off the stones, that they may not crush the seed, and pulls out the weeds that they may not choke it. In a similar way and with similar profit, ministers and teachers of the word may remove obstructions which would prevent its growth. Not only have we permission to do this : we are bound positively to do it. The parable excludes us indeed from further knowledge or power, after the word is made known, but it excludes as the farmer is excluded from his sown seed. We know the nature and extent of that exclusion. While the lesson relieves us from the responsibility of that which is beyond our power, it lays upon us the responsibility of that which is within our power. You may have seen a sown field in spring immediately after a great rain-fall ; and you may have observed that a large portion of it, on its lower side, was smooth, and run together and caked, bearing all the marks of having been for some days under water. On the higher portions the wheat was springing, but on this portion, sown at the same time, the ground was bare. You examine the matter more minutely and discover that the drains that had been made for carrying off the surplus moisture, had been choked in the operations of the seed-time, and not cleared out again ; and that consequently when rain fell heavily, it accumulated on the lower ground ; 320 THE SEED GROWING SECRETLY. and having soaked and -soured it for several days, had killed the germinating seed beneath the ground. You go to the farmer and ask why he had allowed a large portion of his crop to be lost. Suppose he should say, My work was done, as soon as the seed fell from my hand into the soil ; I can neither make it grow, nor understand how it grows ; it was not in my province that the failure took place, and therefore the failure could not be my fault. No such specimen of hypocrisy is found in the kingdom of nature : no man could hold up his face before his fellow and cover his indolence by such an im- pudent plea. We must see to it, that we be not guilty of the same inconsistency in matters of greater moment. A parent or minister or teacher has committed the good seed of the word to the hearts of his young people, with all due solemnity and care ; and thereafter permits them to be steeped in a flood of folly, which he could easily have drained away. The good seed is drowned in that deluge; but it is the sower's fault. It is true he cannot make it grow by his care ; but he can make it not grow by his carelessness. We cannot do the saving ; but we can do the destroying. Many pains and many prayer^ are com- petent to the sower, although he cannot directly control the growth of the seed. When it grows, it grows inde- pendently of him ; but when it fails, the failure may in part be due to his unfaithfulness. Further, when it is said that the earth bringeth forth fruit of herself, the influences of heaven are not excluded, any more than the collateral care of the husbandman. We know how and in what sense the earth brings forth spontaneously, after it has received the seed into its bosom: if the sun were kept from shining, or the rain from fall- THE SEED GROWING SECRETLY. 3 2 ' ing on it, the earth would produce nothing. It is thus also with grace in the heart : the Spirit ministering the things of Christ is as necessary in the kingdom of grace, as rain and sunshine are in the kingdom of nature. Surrounding circumstances, morever, tend powerfully to help or to hinder the growth of the new life. The seed grows indeed by its own vitality : the most favour- able circumstances that are possible on earth could not produce a harvest of grace without the seed of the Word ; but these circumstances go far instrumentally to help or to hinder the growth and ripening of the seed. The family of which you are a member, either as child or servant,; — the Church with which you worship, — the com- panions with whom you associate, — the tone of the society in which your social life moves on, — the business that occupies your day, — and the amusements that refresh you when you are wearied ; — these and many others affect for good or evil the growth of grace in Christians, as wet or dry, cold or warm seasons, affect the growth of the seed after it has been committed to the ground. Watch and pray ; one of these small points may be the turning-point of your destiny. The seed grows gradually from stage to stage. Three stages are specified ; first the blade, then the ear, then the full corn in the ear. This does not determine the time occupied in the spiritual process. In this respect there is not uniformity : the spiritual growth from spring to maturity sometimes requires more than one natural season, and sometimes is accomplished in less. In the first stage of growth, it is not easy to distinguish with certainty between the wheat and common grass; it is when the ear is formed and filled, that you know at a glance, which is the fruitful and which the fruitless plant. (9) 2j 322 THE SEED GROWING SECRETLY. There is a similar ambiguity, in as far as appearance is concerned, in the earliest outgrowth of convictions from the hearing of the word. Not that there is any uncer- tainty in the nature of the things : the wheat is wheat, and the grass is grass from the first: but an observer cannot so surely at first determine which is wheat, and which is merely grass. Thus, many hopeful impressions that appear for a while in the young, die away, and bring forth no fruit ; but at later stages, a judgment may be formed with greater confidence. The plant assumes by degrees a more de- finite form, and a more substantial fulness : the fruits of the Spirit, green at first, but growing gradually more and more mellow, crown the profession of a Christian. Let us not deceive ourselves, in connection with the acknowledged secresy of the Spirit's work. The grow- ing is an unseen thing; but the grown ripened grain is visible. It is the inner power that is hid ; the fruit may be seen by all. There is indeed an invisible Christ, who is already within his people the resurrection and the life ; but there is no invisible Christianity. How grace in the heart grows is an inscrutable mystery; when it is grown, it is known and read of all men. Your life, as to its source and supply, is hid with Christ in God : but your life, as to its practical effects, is a city set on a hill. There is a great difference between the light that you get and the light that you give. The Lord in heaven is the light of Christians ; but Christians are the light of the world. The source of the mighty Ganges is secret; and that secret the superstition of the Hindus has converted into a religious mystery. But the Ganges is not a secret un- seen thing, as it flows through the plains of India, fertil- izing a continent. THE SEED GROWING SECRETLY. 323 " The harvest is come." It is not the end of the world ; it is not even the close of a Christian life in the world. There is a ripening and a fruit-bearing while life in the body lasts : there is also a reaping and an enjoying of the harvest by those who sow the seed, or their successors. The announcement, "one soweth and another reapeth," clearly implies that the same one who sows may also to some extent reap. There is part of both ; a sower gathers some of the fruit of his labour in his own lifetime; and some of it is gathered by others after he has departed. Here is a lesson for ministers and teachers. The Lord, who sends them out to sow, expects that they will look and long for fruit, and be disappointed if it does not appear. When the case occurs, as occur it may, in which the sower is not permitted to reap, the delay, although not a ground of despair, should be a source of disappoint- ment : the stroke will be felt painful, if there is life where the stroke falls. The giver of the seed expects that the sower, if he lives to see it ripening, will reap it joyfully. It is like the joy of harvest to see the Lord's work pros- pering under our own hand. The Master seems to chide the inertness of his servants when he says, "the fields are white already to harvest." If it were their meat, as it was his, to do the Father's will, they would bound more quickly into the field, whenever they saw it whiten* ing. Some lessons, partly encouraging, partly reproving, which lie in the parable, but have hitherto been either omitted or only incidentally touched in the course of ex- position, may be now conveniently enumerated in the close. 1. The work of sowing and the joy of reaping advance simultaneously on the spiritual field. The labour of the 324 THE SEED GROWING SECRETLY. husbandman in the natural sphere is all and only sowing at one season, all and only reaping at another: the seed of the word affords a different experience ; in the kingdom of God there is no period of the year when you must not sow, or may not reap. These two processes are in ex- perience very closely linked together. They become alternately and reciprocally cause and effect : if we were not permitted at an early period to reap a little, the work of sowing would proceed languidly or altogether cease ; on the other hand if we cease to sow, we shall not long continue to reap. When the workmen are introduced into this circle, it carries them continuously round. 2. In any given spot of the field there may be sowing in spring, and yet no reaping in harvest. If there is no sowing, there will be no reaping ; but the converse does not hold good ; you cannot say, wherever there has been sowing, it will be followed by a reaping. The seed may be carried away by wild birds, or wither on stony ground, or be choked by thorns. " Watch and pray that ye enter not into temptation." 3. The growth of the sown seed is secret ; secret also is its failure. It is quite true, there may be grace in the heart of a neighbour unseen, unsuspected by me ; but the heart of my neighbour may be graceless while I am in its earlier stages ignorant of the fact. The gnawing of a worm at the root of one plant is for a time as secret as the healthful growth of another. "Lord, is it I?" I must not too lightly assume either in the natural or the spiritual husbandry, that everything is prospering that is out of sight. 4. Though the sower is helpless after he has cast the seed into the ground, he should not be hopeless ; we know that the seed is a living thing, and will grow except THE SEED GROWING SECRETLY. 325 where it is impeded by extraneous obstacles. " The word of God is quick (living) and powerful." 5. In every case the harvest, in one sense, will come; on every spot of all the field there will be a reaping. If one set of ministers do not reap there, another will. Where there is not conversion, there will be condemnation. The regeneration is one harvest; the judgment is another. The angels are not sowers, but they are reapers. Where the men who sowed the seed find nothing to reap during the day of grace, those ministering spirits to whom no seed has been intrusted will be sent with a sickle to cut down and cast away. The first harvest is like the first resurrection ; blessed are they who have part in it. In the ministry of the Baptist, the appointed preparer of his way, Christ comes from heaven to earth on the blessed errand of gathering his wheat into the garner : rejoice therefore, Christians; he has prepared for you a place, and he will bring you safely to it ; but take heed and be- ware of hypocrisy ; for see, while he comes to bring home the wheat, he carries a "fan in his hand" (Matt. iii. 12). XVI. THE TWO DEBTORS. "* And one of the Pharisees desired him that he would eat with him. And he went into the Pharisee's house, and sat down to meat. And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment. Now when the Pharisee which had bidden him saw it, he spake within himself, saying, This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him ; for she is a sinner. And Jesus answering said unto him, Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on. There was a certain creditor which had two debtors : the one owed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me therefore, which of them will love him most? Simon answered and said, I suppose that he, to whom he forgave most. And he said unto him, Thou hast rightly judged. And he turned to the woman, and said unto Simon, Seest thou this woman? I entered into thine house, thou gavest me no water for my feet : but she hath washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss : but this woman since the time I came in hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint : but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven ; for she loved much : but to whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little. And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven. And they that sat at meat with him began to say within themselves, Who is this that for- giveth sins also ? And he said to the woman, Thy faith hath saved thee ; go in peace." — Luke vii. 36-50. JIN interesting and difficult question regarding the harmony of the Gospels generally attaches itself to the exposition of this parable. Each of the four Evangelists narrates that a woman anointed Jesus while he sat at table; and it becomes difficult to determine with certainty whether they refer all to the same event, or some to one event and some to THE TWO DEBTORS. 327 another. In the narratives features of similarity occur, leading to the one conclusion, and features of dissimilarity leading to the other. The prevailing opinion now is that Matthew, Mark, and John, speak all of the same fact, and that Luke speaks of another. I have thought it right to mention, that this question has been often discussed in connection with our parable; but I shall do no more. The decision of it here and now is by no means necessary : the interpretation of the parable does not in any measure depend upon it. It is an inquiry belonging to a different branch of Scripture exposition, and to discuss it here would tend to distract attention from the subject in hand. Assuming then without argument that Luke here records an event which is not mentioned by any of the other Evangelists, I shall proceed at once to examine its substance as the ground from which the parable directly springs. The husbandman at one time operates directly on the tree, and at another time directly on the ground in the neighbourhood ; in both cases however, and in both alike, his aim is to increase the fruitfulness of the tree ; it is thus that an expositor must in some instances turn his attention in the first place to the surrounding context which suggests and sustains the parable, as the best means of ascertaining the import of the parable itself. A Pharisee invited Jesus to a feast: he accepted the invitation and joined the company at the appointed place and time. A woman who had been of bad character in the town, as soon as she learned that he was there, entered the apartment where the guests reclined at meat, and stood at his feet behind him weeping. Her tears rained down on his feet ; she wiped them off with her hair, and then anointed them with precious ointment. 328 THE TWO DEBTORS. Let us endeavour to determine precisely the charactei of the several actors and the meaning of their acts. The Pharisee, having formed, on the whole, a favourable opinion of Jesus as a prophet in Israel, and being, as he supposed, in a position to act the patron, with benevolent intent, but with a high estimate of his own character and position, invited to his house and table the remarkable Nazarene, whose miracles and doctrines were in every one's mouth. Doubtless he expected, also, that by closer contact, and by means of his own shrewd observation, he should be able definitely to make up his mind on the character of the new prophet, and so to favour or frown on him according to the result. While her actions only are recorded in the narrative, we may, by the light of the Lord's subsequent declara- tions, also read without danger of mistake the emotions that were working in this woman's heart. She had fallen into a course of vice, and consequently lost caste in the community. Knowing that she had lost the respect of her neighbours, she had lost respect for herself. From a sinful act she had glided into sinful habits. Perhaps re- morse from time to time made her inwardly sorrowful ; but she put on a bold countenance, and tried to laugh down rebuke. This woman, while in this state, crept one day to the outer edge of a crowd in the neighbourhood of the city, to satisfy her curiosity as to the cause of the concourse. In the centre stood Jesus of Nazareth preaching; and all the people in solemn silence hung upon his lips. She listened too, and heard some wonderful words ; God loved the world; God pardons sin — pardons freely, pardons it all ; pardons chief sinners ; loves to pardon ; has given his Son to seek and save; this is the Son, revealing the THE TWO DEBTORS. 329 Father, and inviting the prodigal to return to the Father's bosom. Hark; he says, " Come unto me all that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Peeping through openings in the crowd, she might see the love that beamed in the preacher's countenance, as well as hear the gracious words that came from his mouth. The woman's heart is touched and taken ; the woman is won. By that still small voice the devil's chains are broken, the rocky heart is rent. When the congre- gation dissolves, she steals away to her house alone. There her eye falls on some gaudy ornaments, the in- struments of her sin, and the badges of her shame. Whence this sudden strong loathing ? Perhaps she grasps them convulsively and flings them on the fire, shutting her eyes that she may not see her tormentors. She sits down, and searches her own heart, — her own life. She discovers that it is altogether vile. Her own heart is the darkest, deepest pit out of hell ; she is the chief of sinners. She never knew this before. She had often ex- perienced twitches of conscience for particular acts of evil ; but now her whole life and her whole being seem one dark, deep, crimson sin. What has done this ? It was that word of Jesus ; it was the pardon that he offered ; it was the divine compassion that beamed on his counte- nance and glowed on his lips. She was melted. The old stony heart flowed down like water, and went away ; and a new, tender, trustful, loving heart came up in its place. She is not the same woman that she was yes- terday. She is a new creature in Christ Jesus ; but she could not yet tell the name and describe the nature of the change that had taken place in her being, as a new-born child could not announce the fact and explain the nature of its birth. The infant will manifest its birth and life, by 33° THE TWO DEBTORS. seeking sustenance from its mother's breast; and when the child has grown, the grown man will reflect on his birth, and perhaps understand in some measure its nature and importance. Such was the passing from death into life in the experience of that woman. Conversion in our own day often takes place as secretly, and as soon. The word of the Lord that proved itself quick and powerful then, liveth and abideth the same for ever; and this is the word which by the Gospel is preached unto us still. The natural history of conversion does not change with the lapse of centuries, any more than natural history in other departments ; there were doubtless examples of secret regeneration in the time of our Lord and his apostles, as well as in our own time. He knew this woman's case as well as he knew the case of the woman who pressed through the crowd to touch the hem of his garment. That woman, when she was healed, would have kept her case secret at the time if she could ; she was put about and ashamed when she was called in public, and her experience proclaimed in the crowd. It suited the purpose of the Lord to make known her experience on the spot ; that method he saw would do most for his kingdom. But in the case of this woman who was a sin- ner, he did not act in the same way. There are diversities in his operation. He foresaw an occasion when her repent- ance and faith could be turned to greater account ; accord- ingly he postponed the public announcement of her for- giveness till then. True to the new instinct that had been planted in her heart, this saved sinner, as soon as she heard that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, grasped the richest offering she possessed and hastened to the spot. Her plans, I think, were not fully laid. The impulses of a bursting heart drew her to the place where her Redeemer THE TWO DEBTORS. 331 was; but she had not foreseen all the difficulties, and consequently had not prepared the means of overcoming them. Arrived at the house, she entered the open door; and passing through the attendants, penetrated into the apart- ment where the company reclined at meat. The table stood in the middle of the hall, and sofas in a continuous line were placed near it on either side. On these sofas were the guests, not sitting as we do with their feet on the floor beneath the table, but reclining with their feet projecting a little behind, the sandals having previously been drawn off by servants, for coolness and comfort. Thus it was easy for one who entered the room, to walk up to any individual of the company and converse with him during the meal ; and, so far from being out of the way and unnatural, it was the easiest and most natural of all things, that the woman, when she came to Jesus, should touch his feet. This was precisely the part of his body which she could most easily reach, and which she might bathe and anoint, while the meal proceeded, without difficulty to herself or inconvenience to him. We shall fall into a mistake if we think either that the act as here narrated was altogether accordant with the habits of the time and place, or altogether contrary to them ; it was partly the one and partly the other. In the first place it was an act radically diverse from the intrusion of a stranger to anoint the feet of a guest sitting at dinner with his friend in our, country and our day. Such an act among us would be so unprecedented, so difficult, so awkward, that it would shock every observer, if it were attempted, and bring the whole business to a stand. There and then, in as far as the entrance of a person unbidden is concerned, there was 33 2 THE TWO DEBTORS. nothing to attract attention. There is abundant evidence that even at this day, it is common in the East for persons not of the party to enter the feast chamber during the progress of the meal, and sitting on seats by the wall, converse on business or politics with the guests that recline beside the table ; and, further, from the position of the guests, it was not difficult, but easy to reach his feet. Thus far, all was accordant with use and wont. But as to the person who entered on that occasion, and the act which she performed, there was something strange and out of the way. It was fitted to attract attention, and to excite suspicion ; and so indeed it did. A woman, coming in while the company sat at meat, and such a woman, habit and repute disreputable ; and besides all this, the ardency of her emotions, and the familiarity of her acts, surprised the onlookers. I think it important to notice these two sides of the case ; so much of it was according to use and wont, that the entrance of the woman by itself did not surprise and shock the company; and yet so much of it was strange, that the curiosity of the company was aroused, and their attention arrested. The circumstances of the incident on both sides, were thus calculated to promote the design of Jesus, to instruct and reprove. There was as much of the ordinary in the act as prevented it from shocking the feel- ings ; and as much of the extraordinary as awakened the interest of the spectators. When she reached the feet of the Redeemer with the intention of anointing them in token of her adoring grati- tude, her plan seems to have been deranged for the moment, by a sudden and uncontrollable flood of tears, as if the fountains of the great deep within her being had been opened, and grief and gladness, both at their height, THE TWO DEBTORS. 333 had met and caused an overflow. From the position she had assumed those tears wet the feet of Jesus; and having no other towel, she, with a woman's sudden instinct, dried them again with her long flowing hair.* " Now, when the Pharisee which had bidden him saw it, he spake within himself, This man, if he were a pro- phet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him." It was an acknowledged sign of a true prophet to be a discerner of hearts. Simon had this test before his mind, and was secretly apply- ing it to determine the claims of Jesus. But another principle lay deep in the heart of the Pharisee, which he considered applicable to the case in hand : he counted, as a matter of course, that a prophet, while he might sit at table on terms of equality with himself, a good man, would not accept any mark of homage from a bad one. He believed that, by his knowledge of the town, he had gained advantage over the prophet of Nazareth, who was a stranger, and had found a ground on which he might reject his claims. Simon knew the character of this woman. Believing that Jesus, as a righteous man, * " She was forgiven much ; therefore she loved much. As soon as she had learned that Jesus was at table in Simon the Pharisee's house, her heart drew her thither to him, that she might offer him the expression of her gratitude and love, — of her adoration and her joy. She took with her a phial of ointment, the costliest that she possessed, found an entrance into the Pharisee's house, and walked behind backs to the feet of Jesus, as he reclined at table on an elevated cushion. Arrived there, she is incapable ol accomplishing her purpose. The thought of the greatness of her sin, and the greatness of the compassion of Jesus, broke her heart. She wept, and so unwittingly wet the feet of Jesus with her tears. Oh, salt, salutary tears ! They are tears at once of repentance and gratitude. Now, she must first dry the Lord's feet again. But for this she had not prepared herself ; for this she had nothing but her hair. So she wiped them with her hair ; and kissed the feet of Jesus, and then anointed them with ointment. All this was the manifestation of her inward burning love to the Lord." — Amdt. ii 85. S6. 334 THE TWO DEBTORS. would have spurned her away if he had known what she was, he thought he saw in the fact of his bearing with her an evidence that he was ignorant of her character. The reasoning was this. Either he knows what sort of a woman this is, or he does not. If he does not know, he is not a prophet, because he cannot discern spirits ; if he knows, he is not a prophet, for he does not cast the disreputable person away. On either alternative, there- fore, he is not a prophet.* I proceed now, under the direction of the Lord's own words, to consider the spiritual meaning and the prac- tical use of the narrative. The creditor is God, in whom we live, and move, and have our being — from whom we derive all, and to whom we must account for all ; the debtors sinful men ; and the debts the sins which they have severally done. Of the two, while both are in debt, one owes ten times as much as the other. A comparison of this proportion, with that which appears in the parable of the unmerciful servant, is interesting. Between the debt which the servant owed to his master, and the debt which a fellow- servant owed to him, there is no assignable proportion : so vast is the difference that we cannot form a definite concep- tion of the relation. This is precisely what we should expect in order to show the disproportion, or want of all proportion, between sins against God and sins against a neighbour. In this parable, on the other hand, the debt in both cases is due to the master, and not in either due by one servant to another. We accordingly do not ex- pect, and do not find a disproportion so vast; and yet, there is a great difference between the two sums. In * The dilemma is well put by Dr. Trench. THE TWO DEBTORS. 335 the one case the debt is five hundred pence, and in the other fifty : the less is only one-tenth of the larger sum Although there are aggravations in one case, and allevi- ations in another, I think the disproportion would not have been so great as in the parable it actually is, if it had been the design of the Lord here to teach us how much the guilt of one man may exceed that of another in the sight of God. From the circumstances of this case we may safely gather that these sums represent not the absolute quantity of sin-debt that stood against these men severally in the book of divine justice, but the esti- mate which they severally made of their own short- comings. The fifty and the five hundred pence indi- cate the amounts which the debtors severally acknow- ledged, rather than those which the creditor might have claimed. The plan of providence in the present life permits every man to keep his own accounts of debt to God : no neighbour is empowered to record the items, and sum them up, and keep a record of their amount against you. The Romish priesthood attempt to usurp this prerogative, but in its purpose it is boldly unjust, and in its results miserably ineffectual. They ought not, in point of prin- ciple, to make the attempt ; and they are not able, in point of fact, to accomplish their object. Every man keeps his own account book ; and no other man dare or can look into it, except in as far as the owner opens it of his own accord for the inspection of his neighbour. Some teachers adopt this principle, with good effect, in the discipline of children at school. Each child has a book in which he marks, from day to day and from hour to hour, his own successes and his own failures ; and according to this record the prizes are awarded or with- 336 THE TWO DEBTORS. held. When the child is put upon his honour, it is ex- pected that he will be honourable. Probably a large balance of advantage results from this contrivance where it is judiciously managed ; but it is capable of telling two ways, and does tell in opposite ways with different persons. If the child deal fairly, the principle of truth within him will be strengthened by habit ; but if he cheat, all of the sense of honesty that remained within him will soon be worn away. " To him that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance ; but from him that hath not shall be taken, even that which he hath." But while each man is permitted to keep the account of his own sins against God, and no human being can rightfully possess a duplicate, there is a duplicate : an- other record is kept in the Book of God. That record is true ; and woe to the self-deceiver who made false entries in his own favour all his life, when it is found that the two accounts will not tally in the great day. Simon the entertainer kept account of his own debt to God — his sins of omission and commission — and balanced them from time to time against a column of merits which he possessed. The balance, he confesses, was against himself, and the difference he set down as the amount due : it is expressed by fifty. The woman, on the other hand, had during a course of wickedness lost all reckon- ing, both of her own sins and of God's mercies. Lately she had obtained a copy of the missing documents. A reflection of the charge had been suddenly thrown down from the archives of the Judge, upon the tablet of her own conscience. Without attempting to tax the account in her own favour, she accepted it iii full, and expressed it by five hundred — ten times as much as the Pharisee had laid to his own charge. He, taking his own reckoning for THE TWO DEBTORS. 33? authority, counted his liability light : she, taking her data from God's law, counted her liability heavy. In the story, as it is. constructed by the Lord" for the instruction and reproof of Simon, the love of both ser- vants to their master is caused, and consequently measured by, the forgiveness which they had received : one having obtained the remission of a small debt, loved the forgiver a little ; the other, having obtained the remission of a great debt, loved the forgiver much. In any such case, however, love springs up strong in proportion, not to the absolute amount of the debt remitted, but to the estimate of its amount which the debtor himself has formed. This principle must be kept in view when we apply the lesson of the parable to Simon. The Scripture does not concede that the amount of forgiveness that he needed and obtained was in respect to that of the poor woman as fifty to five hundred : the Scripture does not even determine that Simon was, in point of fact, forgiven at all. In its application to the case in hand, the Lord's instruction is equivalent to the conditional formula, If you have been forgiven fifty pence, and she five hundred, whether will she or you experience the more fervent gratitude to your common benefactor ? This, I think, is the only true and consistent method of applying the parable to the experience of the woman and the Pharisee. The point on .which all the weight should lean is not the absolute amount of guilt incurred by the sinner and for- given by God, but the estimate made by the sinner of his own sin, and his consequent appreciation of the boon he receives when it is unconditionally blotted out. This view, besides being in itself right, possesses this practical advantage, that it steers entirely clear of the entangling question, If the greatest sinner, when forgiven, loves his ») 22 33 8 THE TWO DEBTORS. Forgiver most, will not he be happiest at last who is the guiltiest now ? There is no place here or elsewhere in the Scriptures for such a speculation : it is not admissable in any form. The conception which the parable produces when legitimately applied is at once beautiful and bene- ficent : love to the Saviour rises in the heart of a saved man in proportion to the sense which he entertains of his own sinfulness on the one hand, and the mercy of God on the other. Thus the height of a saint's love to the Lord is as the depth of his own humility : as this root strikes down unseen in the ground, that blossoming branch rises higher in the sky. The woman did not speak of her own acts, either with- in herself or to her neighbours ; but her acts are, notwith- standing, proclaimed and recorded. They are minutely catalogued (ver. 44-46), by the Lord himself. Nothing is lost on him ; his ear is open, and his eye. As in provi- dence not a sparrow falls to the ground without our Father's permission and regard, so in the new covenant not a tear falls for sin indulged, not a sigh rises for deliverance from its pollution, without attracting the notice and obtaining the approval of the Sinner's Friend. Love, burning as a night lamp silently in a penitent's breast, or bursting forth in impetuous praise, or calmly supplying the motive power of a useful life — love in the heart of the forgiven sinner, serves and pleases the forgiving Redeemer. One point still remains unnoticed, needing indeed some notes of explanation, but capable of being easily and fully explained ; it lies in these words of Jesus : " Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins which are many are forgiven ; for she loved much." A question has been raised here, Did the woman's love to the Lord cause him to forgive her, or did his pardon freely bestowed cause the forgiven woman THE TWO DEBTORS. 339 to love him ? To state the question is in effect to answer it. This announcement which Jesus makes in the close of his exposition is obviously meant to run in the line of the parable; but if you understand it to represent the woman's love as the procuring cause of pardon from the Lord, it runs right in the face of the parable from first to last. The love of the servants, the lesser as well as the larger love, is not the cause but the effect of the Master's kindness ; and it would not only be out of harmony with the parable, but in sheer opposition to it in letter and in spirit, to understand it as countenancing the doctrine that the sin- ner's spontaneous love to God merits and obtains forgiveness. Although, in sentences of this form, it is more common to express the effect in the first clause, and the cause, introduced by a For in the latter; yet the converse method is frequently employed and perfectly correct. You may say, Tan-waste is strewn on the street opposite this man- sion, for a member of the family, lies within it sick ; or, A member of the family lies sick within this mansion, for tan-waste is strewn on the contiguous street. In the first instance you place the cause last, and in the second in- stance the effect, using precisely the same formula in both. Nor is it difficult to perceive why Jesus places the effect of forgiveness in the prominent position here, for it is the only thing that is visible to the Pharisee whom he desires to instruct. The pardon which this woman had obtained Simon did not and could not see ; but her love being em- bodied in action was palpable to his senses. The ener- getic act of adoration was evidence of the heart-love from which it sprang. To this love accordingly Jesus points, and thence infers the existence of the great forgiveness which prompted it. In the end, He confirms and seals, by his own lips, the pardon which . the repenting sinner 340 THE TWO DEBTORS. had already secretly received. The Redeemer's forgiving love to sinners is the only cause of all their love to him. " We love him because he first loved us." Have you seen a broad, straight path of silver brightness lying by night upon a smooth sea, and stretching from your feet away until it was lost in the distance — a path that seemed to have been trodden by the feet of all the saints who have ever passed through a shifting world to their eternal home. Oh that silver path by night across the sea, — it glittered much : but it was not its brightness that lighted up the moon in the sky. Neither was it the love to Jesus trembling in a believer's heart, that kindled forgiving love in him. We love him because he first loved us ; the love that makes bright a forgiven sinner's path across the world was kindled by the light of life in the face of Jesus ; from him and to him are all things. There is a peculiarly wise and tender adaptation to our need in that feature of our Lord's character, which consists in his desiring and appreciating our love. He is not a distant, cold, omnipotence. He lavishes love on the world, but he is disappointed when the world does not throw back a reflection of his own love, as the rippling sea throws up to heaven again, the light it got from heaven. When the ten lepers were cleansed, and one returned to lavish love on his healer, that healer, while he enjoyed the single penitent's devotion, permitted a sigh to escape his lips, articulated in the sad pensive question, " Where are the nine ?" I love the Lord for uttering that complaint. It proves to me that he counts it no intrusion when we burst in upon him with our glad thanksgiving. In the bold in- bursting of this woman ; in her premeditated anointing, and unpremeditated tears, the Lord Jesus sees — tastes of the travail of his soul and is satisfied. XVII. THE GOOD SAMARITAN. ' And Jesus answering said, A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead. And by chance there came down a certain priest that way : and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on him, and passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was : and when he saw him, he had compassion on him, and went to him, and bound up his wounds,, pouring in oil and wine, and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. And on the morrow when he departed, he took out two pence, and gave them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him ; and whatsoever thou spendest more, when I come again, I will repay thee. Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves ? And he said, He that showed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him, Go, and do thou likewise." — Luke x. 30-37. jpGICALLY this parable may be conveniently associated with that of the unmerciful servant. They constitute a pair ; that teaches us to for- give the injurer; and this to help the injured. On the almost pictured page of the evangelic history you may often observe two persons, sometimes in pre- sence of a multitude, and sometimes far apart, engaged in close and earnest conversation. In most cases you discover, when you approach, that one of them is the Lord Jesus, and the other one of the lost whom he came to save. At one time it is a rich Jewish ruler, and at another a poor woman of Samaria; now, it is Nicodemus in a private house, and then Pilate in the judgment hall; here the Saviour, suffering, converses with the thief on the cross, and there the Saviour, reigning, calls to Saul as he is 342 THE GOOD SAMARITAN. entering Damascus. Many of the precious words of Jesus which now constitute the heritage of the Church, were at first spoken in answer to friends or foes, during the period of his ministry on earth, or after he ascended into heaven. Thus the Lord's word frequently took its form from the the character and conduct of those with whom he con- versed. On their ignorance, or simplicity, or malice, his wisdom and goodness were cast for keeping till the end of time. The temper, and conceptions, and tricks of those Jews, like sand in a foundry, constituted the mould in which the pure gold of our Redeemer's instructions was poured ; and like the sand, when they had served that pur- pose, they were allowed to fall asunder, as being of no further use. Here is a case in which the question of a self-righteous Jew elicits and gives shape to the subsequent discourse of the Lord ; here, accordingly, the meaning of the discourse depends, in a great measure, on the history in which it grows. At some pause in the Lord's discourse, while the multitude still remained on the spot expecting further instruction, a certain lawyer who was watching his oppor- tunity, interposed with the demand, " Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?"* The question was not put in simplicity, with a view to obtain information, it was employed knowingly as an experiment and a test. Very many such questions were addressed to the Lord Jesus during the period of his public ministry by differ- * "How eagerly would the critics seize on this passage, and pronounce the question of a certain lawyer to be identical with the narrative contained in Matt. xix. 16, only differently reported — if St Luke had not himself subse- quently narrated that second incident (xviii. 1 8) ! This once more shows that many things could naturally, and would necessarily, occur more than once in the life of Jesus." — Stier, THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 343 ent persons, and with different motives. We may safely gather from the whole spirit of the narrative that this example, as to the character and motive of the questioner, was neither one of the best nor one of the worst. This scribe was not, on the one hand, like Nicodemus, a meek receptive disciple, prepared to drink the sincere milk of the word that he might grow thereby, nor was he like some, both of the Pharisaic and Sadducean parties, who came with cunning questions to ensnare and destroy. This man seems to have been from his own view point sincere and fair: his tempting aimed not to catch and betray, but simply to put the skill of the new Nazarene prophet to the test. The man was full, not of conscious malice against Jesus, but of ignorant confidence in him- self. The scribe's question is cast in the mould of the most unmitigated self-righteousness : " What shall / do that / may inherit ?" &c. No glimpse had he ever gotten of his own sinfulness, no conception did he ever entertain of the publican's prayer, " God be merciful to me a sinner." Taking the, man on his own terms, and meeting him on his own path, the Lord replies by the question, " What is written ? and refers him to the law." The lawyer, a professed theologian, answers well. He gave a correct epitome of all moral duty, showing that love is the ful- filling of the law, — " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind, and thy neighbour as thyself." The Lord approved the answer, seemed to require as to profession, not another word, and closed for the time the colloquy with the simple announcement, " This do and thou shalt live." A very great question crosses our 344 THE GOOD SAMARITAN. path here, but we must not discuss it fully lest we should be diverted too far from our immediate object. This answer of the Lord we accept in all simplicity as the great universal cardinal truth in the case. Life was offered at first, and life is offered still as the reward of obedience. It is not safe, it is not needful to apologize for this statement or to explain it away ; it is not in any sense contrary to evangelical doctrine. It is really true that the fulfilling of God's law will secure his favour. Nor is this a thing merely to be admitted in its own place when it comes up ; it is the truth that lies at the foundation, and on which all other truth leans. The basis of all is, — Obedience deserves life, and disobedience deserves death. Mankind have disobeyed; we have all sinned, and are therefore all under condemnation. Nothing but a per- fect obedience can gain God's favour. Hence the cove- nant, and hence the incarnation and sacrifice of Christ; hence the substitution of the just for the unjust. The Gospel is not an exception to the Law, " This do and thou shaltlive;" the Gospel is founded on that Law. This Law Christ came not to destroy but to fulfil. < " This do and thou shalt live :" whether by an emphasis on the word, or by an expressive glance at the moment in the speaker's eye, or by the simple majesty of the truth declared, the scribe's conscience was aroused and arrested. The questioner was not altogether comforted by the result of the conversation ; he could not allow the matter to drop there. The reason why he continued the dialogue is expressly given ; he was " willing to justify himself." Justify himself ! But who accused him? Not the Lord : he had only said, " This do and thou shalt live.' The man's own conscience was awakened and at work: well he knew at that moment that he had not done what THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 345 his lips confessed he should do ; he had not loved God with all his heart, and his neighbour as himself. It is interesting to notice the principle on which he proceeds to defend himself: conscious that love to neigh- bours is in his heart a very narrow thing, he conducts his argument so as to justify its narrowness. If he can show that his neighbours are limited to a small circle of rela- tives, with the addition perhaps of some chosen indivi- duals beyond the line of blood, he may yet be able to live on good terms with himself as a keeper of the law; accordingly, in order to form a basis for his own defence, he inquires, "Who is my neighbour?" The parable constitutes the answer. But before we proceed to examine its contents, it is of great importance to observe that it is not a direct answer to the scribe's question. It is the answer which the Lord saw meet to give, but it is not a decision on the case which had been submitted for adjudication. In his question the scribe contemplated other people, and speculated upon who had the right to receive kindness: the answer of Jesus, on the contrary, contemplates the scribe himself, and inquires whether he is prepared to bestow kindness. As to those who should receive our love there is no limit: the real subject of inquiry concerns the man who bestows it. The question is not, Who is my neighbour? but, Am I neighbourly? This is the line in which the parable pro- ceeds. It does not supply the scribe with an answer to the question which he had put; but it supplies him with another question which he desired to evade. He is not per- mitted to ride off upon a speculative inquiry about the abstract rights of other men; he is pinned down to a personal practical duty. "A certain man went down from Jerusalem," &c. It is a narrow, dreary mountain 346 TIIB GOOD SAMARITAN. pass. By nature it is fitted to be a haunt of robbers; if there are any robbers in the country, they will certainly gravitate to this spot. In point of fact it was notoriously unsafe for travellers in that day, and it is equally danger- ous still. A particular portion of the road acquired the name of the path of blood, and under the feeble go- vernment of the Turks, as well as in more ancient times, it has well deserved its appellation. The scene of the event therefore is laid in a place which is eminently suit- able to its character: the audience who heard the story first would at once and fully recognise its appropriate- ness. Robbers assailed the solitary traveller, and after plun- dering him of his money, left him so severely wounded that he could do nothing to help himself, and must soon have died if he had not obtained help. Although it is not expressly stated, it appears from the whole com- plexion of the narrative that this man was a Jew. Indeed this is so obvious and so necessary that the point of the parable would be lost if it were otherwise : I think the nationality of the unfortunate sufferer is not stated, pre- cisely because it could not be mistaken. : " And by chance there came down a certain priest that way," &c. By chance is an unfortunate translation here. It was not by chance that the priest came down by that road at that time, but by a specific arrangement, and in exact fulfilment of a plan; not the plan of the priest, not the plan of the wounded traveller, but the plan of God. By "coincidence" xrara orwyicvpiav) the priest came down: that is, by the conjunction of two things, in fact, which were previously constituted a pair in the provi- dence of God. In the result they fell together according to the omniscient designer's plan. This is the true theory THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 34J of the divine government, and this is the account of the matter which the parable contains.* By previous appointment and actual exact coincidence that meeting took place between the hale comfortable priest and the wounded half-dead traveller in the bloody path between Jerusalem and. Jericho. It is thus that all meetings take place between man and man. " The poor ye have always with you," said Jesus to bis disciples. It is not only that once for all the poor and the rich are placed in the same world : but day by day, as life's current flows, by divine unerring purpose those who need are placed in the way of those who have plenty, and the strong are led to the spot where the feeble lie. We are accustomed to admire the wisdom and foresight that spread layers of iron ore and layers of coal near each other in the crust of the earth that the one might give the melting heat which the other needed ; but the divine government is a much more minute and pervading thing. The same omniscient provider has appointed eaeh meet- * The analogy between the meetings exhibited in this parable and the meeting of Philip with the Ethiopian (Acts viiL) is interesting and instruc- tive. In both cases the place is a desert, in both a man in great need and a man who has the means of supplying that need meet each other there. Here the want and its supply are material and temporal, there they are moral and spiritual. The man who fell among thieves on the way to Jericho suffered from bodily wounds, and the Samaritan who came to his relief ap- propriately applied material remedies : the Ethiopian treasurer, in that way towards Gaza which is desert, suffered in his soul, and the name of Christ was the ointment which Philip the evangelist poured into his wound. These two cases are indeed diverse, but as we learn from the Scriptures through- out, they proceed, both as to disease and cure, upon analogous principles, so that the knowledge of the one throws light upon the meaning of the other. The meeting in the desert near Gaza did not happen T>y chance, it was a tryst duly made and exactly kept, for " the angel of the Lord spake unto Philip, saying, Arise and go toward the sputh," &c. (Acts viii. 26)'. The appointment for the meetings in the valley between, Jerusalem and Jericho was as certainly made,' although it has' not been as expressly recorded. 34 8 THE GOOD SAMARITAN. ing between those who are in want and those who have abundance ; and for the same reason, that the one may give what the other needs, and that both may be blessed in the deed. But he who lays the plan watches its pro- gress, and is displeased when men do not take the oppor- tunity that has been given. When he has brought the strong to the spot where the weak are lying he is dis- pleased to see them pass by on the other side. " Lo, I am with you alway even unto the end of the world." Is _ that a pleasant promise ? No ; if after the Lord has led you to the spot where the needy are perishing, you pass by on the other side ; it is a dreadful thing to have him beside us, looking on in such a case as this. We are led to suppose that the wounded man was not only unable to walk, but that he could not even move his head, so as to observe at a distance the approach of a traveller. Possibly the sound of footsteps was the first warning he received that a human being was near. Per- haps he started in terror lest it should be the robbers returning to take what remained of his life away. But as the priest came and looked upon him, he might well begin to hope. This is a man who is consecrated to the service of God ; he is even now on his way from his turn of office in the temple. He who gets so near to God will surely show mercy to man. No : the priest passed by on the other side. We are not informed what his excuses were ; but we may be quite sure he had plenty, and that they were very good. Those who seek a good excuse for neglecting the labour of love always find one. He was alone ; he could neither cure the unfortunate man there nor carry him away. To make the attempt might bring the robbers down from fheir fastnesses upon himself, and thus he should only throw away a good life after a THE GOOD SAMARTTAN. 349 damaged one. Right well would he justify himself that evening as he told his adventure in the pass to his friends or his family in Jericho. Love saw no excuses for leav- ing the man lying in his blood, for it was not looking for them ; but selfishness saw them at a glance, and would have created them in plenty if there had been none at hand. In like manner also a Levite came to the spot, looked for a moment on the sufferer, and passed on. At last a Samaritan came up ; and when he saw the wounded man " he had compassion on him." The root of the matter lies here : " Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks," and the hand labours ; the foun- tain is opened, and you may expect to see a flowing stream. .Love in presence of human suffering takes the form of compassion ; and love in all its forms tends to express itself in action : compassion issues in help. In this case evidently compassion was the secret force that produced all the subsequent beneficence : yet we must not too readily count that all is safe for practical efficiency, when in presence of a brother's suffering this tender emotion begins to flutter about the heart. As the heart itself is deceitful, so also in turn are each of its affections ; even those that in name and nature are good may swerve aside after they have sprung, and degenerate into selfishness. Probably both the priest and the Levite experienced some compassion as they looked on the pale and bleeding victim of lawless violence ; perhaps they went away pleased with themselves on account of their tenderness, and somewhat angry with the wounded man for being wounded, and so hurting their sensibilities. The best things corrupted become the worst ; and some- times the sight of distress among poorer neighbours stirs 35° THE GOOD SAMARITAN. into fermentation some of the worst elements of character in the comfortable classes. A little water may spring in the bottom of the well ; but if it do not increase so as to fill the cavity, and freely overflow, it will become fetid where it lies, and more noisome than utter dryness. It is quite possible, as to emotion, to be very languishing over the misfortunes of others, and yet do the unfortunate as little good as the misanthrope who laughs at human sorrows. But while the spurious compassion is thus vile and worthless, the true is beyond expression beautiful and good. It breaks forth in power, and sweeps down what- ever obstacles may be thrown in its way. In this parable the Lord expressly points to the fountain of compassion opened before he invites us to follow the stream of bene- ficence in its course. The nationality of the compassionate traveller is an important feature of the parable ; he was a Samaritan. The Jews and Samaritans were locally nearest neigh- bours, but morally most unneighbourly. An enmity of peculiar strength and persistency kept the communities asunder from age to age. The alienation, originating in a difference of race, was kept alive by rivalry in religion. The Samaritans endeavoured to cover the defects of their pedigree by a zealous profession of orthodox forms in divine worship. The temple which they presumed to erect on Gerizzim as a rival to that of Jerusalem was naturally more odious to the Jews than others that were more distant in space, and more widely diverse in pro- fession. Distinct traces of the keen reciprocal enmity that raged between the Jews and the Samaritans crop out here and there incidentally in the evangelical history, as in chapter ix. 54 THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 35 1 Most certainly the Lord does not here intend to inti- mate that all the priests and Levites were cruel, and all Samaritans tender-hearted : to apply them so would be to wrest his words. This teacher grasps his instrument by the extremity, first one extremity and then the other, that his lesson may reach further than if he had grasped it by the middle. The honourable office, and even the generally high character, of priest and Levite will not cover the sin of selfishly neglecting the sufferings of a fellow-creature : self-sacrificing love is approved by God and useful to men as well in a Samaritan as in a Jew. There is no respect of persons with God. It is quite cer- tain that there were benevolent priests and unkind Sama- ritans ; and it is also certain that the Lord would not overlook kindness in the one, nor sanction cruelty in the other. The lesson was addressed to a Jew ; and there- fore the lesson is so constructed as to smite at one blow the two poles on which a vain Jewish life in that day turned — "they trusted in themselves that they were right- eous, and despised others." That high thing, the scribe's self-righteous trust in his birth-right, the Lord will by the parable bring low ; and this low thing, the mean position of a Samaritan in the estimate of the scribe, he will at the same moment exalt. He hath done all things well.* * In the case of the ten lepers (Luke xvii. 16), which is not a parable, but a history, we learn that the one who experienced and expressed grati- tude to God for his recovery was a Samaritan. Whether their low ana despised condition had been to some extent blessed in making them more humble and receptive than their I ewish neighbours, we do not know ; but, in point of fact, in the historical incident a Samaritan was more ready than the Jew to give praise to God ; and in the construction of the parable a Samaritan is represented as also more beneficent to men. In connection with this case a striking example may be seen of the divine impartiality of the Scriptures. Some persons, with a view to objects of their own, take pleasure in representing ministers of religion as more self- seeking and less generous than those who make no religious profession 35 2 THE GOOD SAMARITAN. The Samaritan had compassion on the wounded man ; and the emotion is known to be genuine by the fruits which it immediately bears : he bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and'wine. These methods doubtless repre- sent the opinions and practice of the time and place as to the treatment of wounds. They constituted the expres- sion of the Samaritan's painstaking compassion ; and for our present purpose no further notice of them is needful.* The contrast between the Levite and the Samaritan, if this case stood alone, might seem to support their theory. But there is no respect of persons or classes with God; you may learn from the Scriptures— and that, too, from the writings of the same apostle — that the Samaritans were not all kind, and the Levites not all hard-hearted. They were Samaritans (Luke ix. 53) who would not permit Jesus and his disciples, when they were weary, to pass the night in their village ; and he was a Levite (Acts iv. 36) who was named Son of Consolation, and sold his property that he might distribute the pro- ceeds among the poor. * The Samaritan was riding; for he set the wounded man "on his own beast." What of the priest and the Levite ? — were they riding, or perform- ing the journey on foot ? If they were both pedestrians, while the Samaritan had a mule or an ass, it is obvious that the two parties were not on equal terms, and that consequently no fair test of their benevolence could in thai transaction be obtained. On that very ground I think it is certain that they were riding as well as he. The parable is not a history, containing the simple facts of any given case, without respect to the lessons which the facts may contain ; it is a picture, constructed according to its Author's mind, and constructed for the purpose of expressing a particular lesson which the Author already had in his mind, and desired to teach. The doctrine which the Teacher intended to declare obviously requires that the two parties whose compassion is compared and contrasted should be on equal terms. The lesson which he meant to convey would slip through and be lost, like water through a. leaky vessel, if the priest and Levite were walking when they found the wounded man : we must, therefore, if we would not do violence to the parable, assume that both were mounted. With this conclusion, resulting from the nature of the case, the expressions in their minutest details correspond. The journey of the priest is narrated in the same terms as that of the Samaritan: "A certain priest came down that way," and "A certain Samaritan as he journeyed came where he was:" we never learn that the Samaritan had a beast of burden until he sets the half-dead traveller upon its back. There was no occasion for mentioning the priest's mule, for he made no special or remarkable use of it. THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 353 The inn to which the patient was conducted must have been more than a khan built on the way-side, and left empty, a free shelter to each party of travellers who chose to occupy it for a night. It must have been something more nearly allied to our modern system ; for there was a resident manager, who kept in store such provisions as travellers needed, and supplied them to customers for money. The Samaritan remained all night with his patient, and then intrusted the case to the care of the inn-keeper, paying a sum to account, and pledging his credit for the balance, if the expense should ultimately exceed the amount of his deposit. Two denaria (pence) were at the time and in the circumstances of value sufficient to meet the probable outlay. Now comes the searching question, " Which of these three thinkest thou was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves ?" The scribe, shut up to one answer, gives it rightly, beginning perhaps to be dimly conscious of its bearing upon himself, — " He that showed mercy on him." Here, as has been already noted, the tables are turned upon the questioner. The point on which atten- tion is fixed is not, Who of all mankind have a right to receive kindness ? but, Are you willing to show kindness, as far as you have opportunity, to every human being who is in need ? The scribe desired to select a few who might rank as his neighbours, hoping that by limiting their number he might show kindness to each, without any substantial sacrifice of his own ease. The Lord shows him that love is like light : wherever it truly burns it shines forth in all directions, and falls on every object that lies in its way. Love that desires to limit its own exercise is not love. Love that is happier if it meet only o) 23 354 THE GOOD SAMARITAN. one who needs help than if it met ten, and happiest if it meet none at all, is not love. One of love's essential laws is expressed in those words of the Lord, that the apostles fondly remembered after he had ascended, " It is more blessed to give than to receive." " Then said Jesus, Go and do thou likewise." Through the self-sufficient Jewish theologian the command is addressed to us. The direct form of the injunction inti- mates, what might be gathered from the nature of the case, that this parable is more strictly an example than a symbol. It does not convey spiritual lessons under the veil of material imagery : it rather describes a case of practical beneficence, and then plainly demands that we should imitate it. However various the required redupli- cations may be in their form, they are the same in kind with the sample which is here exhibited. Besides this more obvious and literal application, almost all the expositors find in the parable an allegorical repre- sentation of the world's lost state and Christ's redeeming work. In this scheme the wounded man represents our race ruined by sin ; the robbers, the various classes of our spiritual enemies ; the priest and Levite, the various legal and ineffectual methods by which human wisdom endea- vours to cure sin ; and the Samaritan shadows forth the Redeemer in his advent and his office. I mention this scheme in order to intimate that I cannot adopt it. From the nature of the things, there must be some likeness to our Redeemer's mission, wherever a loving heart pities a fallen brother, and a strong hand is stretched out to help him ; but beyond this general analogy I see nothing. I can derive no benefit from even the most cautious and sober prosecution of the details. I find in it a reproving and guiding example of a true and effective compassion ; THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 3SS but I find nothing more. Nor should we think the lesson unworthy of its place, although it does not directly reveal the redemption of Christ ; He who loved us, and whose love to us is the fountain and pattern of all our benevo- lent love to each other, counted it a suitable exercise of his prophetic office to teach his disciples their relative duties in life. The lesson of this parable is parallel with that other lesson, " Love one another, as I have loved you. * Some who experience a genuine love are so poor that when they meet a sufferer they cannot supply his wants. In such a case the Lord acknowledges the will, and knows why the deed does not follow. In the example of the widow's mite he has left it on record that he does not despise the gift because of its smallness. Nay, further, he approves and rewards the emotion when it is true, although the means of material help be altogether want- ing : " I was sick and in prison, and ye came unto me." f In the vast mass and complicated relations of modern society, it is extremely difficult to apply right principles in the department of material benevolence. On two oppo- site sides we are liable to err ; and we ought on either side to watch and pray that we enter not into tempta- tion, (i.) It would be a mischievous mistake to give money, food, and clothes to every importunate beggar who contrives to cross our path and present an appear- ance of distress. There are men, women, and children * Draseke has happily expressed the conception that to love is truly to live : " Wir finden hier demnach die Lehre : Willst du leben, liebe." — Vom Reich, G. ii. 130. + "If the robbers had seized the Samaritan before he was able to accom- plish his design, his work would have been accomplished in the sight of God ; — and if the priest and Levite had given help on account of approaching spectators, it would have been of no value." — Sticr. 3S 6 THE GOOD SAMARITAN. in our day, who trade upon their sores, and even make sores to trade upon. To give alms indiscriminately, in these circumstances, is both to waste means and propagate improvidence. But (2.) it is not enough to resist importunities which may proceed from feigned dis- tress. Shut your hand resolutely against the whine of trained, unreal pauperism ; but, at the same time, dili- gently search out the true sufferers, and liberally supply their wants. If from defective knowledge errors must sometimes be committed, better far that now and then a shilling should be lost, by falling into unworthy hands, than that our hearts should be drained of their compas- sion and dried hard by the habit of seeing human suffer- ing and leaving it unrelieved. "A man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth;" it is better that his abundance should be diminished, by an occasional excess of disbursement, than that love, in which his life really lies, should wither in his breast for want of exercise. " The milk of human kindness " this compassion has been called ; but let us remember that if no needy child is permitted to draw it, this milk will soon cease to flow. XVIII. THE FRIEND AT MIDNIGHT " And he said unto them, Which of you shall have a friend, and shall go unto him at mid- night, and say unto him, Friend, lend me three loaves ; for a friend of mine in his journey is come to me, and I have nothing to set before him ? And he from within shall answer and say, Trouble me not : the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed ; I cannot rise and give thee. I say unto you, Though he will not rise and' give him, because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him as many as he needeth. And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you ; seek, and you shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. For every one that asketh receiveth ; and he that seeketh findeth ; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened." — Luke xi. 5-ro. j|N prayer, as in every other department of his ministry, the Lord Jesus gave his disciples both example and precept : he prayed in their presence, and taught them to pray. The order of events at the beginning of this chapter is worthy of notice : it was the Lord's praying that led to the Lord's Prayer. The disciples heard their Master praying, and requested him to teach them also to pray : in reply he imparted to them the brief germinal directory which the Church has been living on ever since, and which the Church will live on till her Redeemer come again. "As he was praying in a certain place;" — the scene here presented is sublime and mysterious. The Son of man — the Son of God in our nature, is praying to the Father, and his followers, are standing near. Silently, reverently they look and listen. They bate their breath till the prayer is done, and then eagerly press the request. 358 THE FRIEND A T MIDNIGHT. " Lord, teach us to pray." They observed in their Mastei while he prayed a strange separation from the world, a conscious nearness to God, a delight in the Father's pre- sence, and a familiarity in communion with the Father, which seemed to them like heaven upon earth. Fondly desiring to partake of these blessed privileges, they be- sought their Master to show them the way. He com- plied with their request. He taught them as one teaches children — he put words in their mouths. Behold, the natural history of the Lord's Prayer ! Thus sprang that wonderful specimen-prayer, which serves at once as the first lesson for babes beginning, and the fullest exercise of strong men's powers.* Having taught his followers first by praying in their presence, and then by dictating an example of prayer, he next gives them a specific lesson on importunity and perseverance in praying. This lesson he has been pleased to impart in the form of a parable — " And he said unto them, Which of you shall have a friend," &c. The picture refers to a simple, primitive condition of society, and reveals corresponding social habits. We must abandon our own modern, artificial view-point, ere we can comprehend and appreciate the facts on which the parable is based. Some cottages, built near each other for common safety, are owned and possessed by the cul- tivators of the surrounding soil. Daylight has disappeared, and the inhabitants of the hamlet, wearied with their toil, have all retired to rest. Meantime a benighted traveller is threading his way to the spot expecting food and * This seems, however, not to have been the first occasion on which he gave " The Lord's Prayer " to the disciples ; it is embodied in the Sermon on the Mount, which belongs to an earlier date. The learners were defective both in understanding and memory ; and the Master gave them ."line upon line." THE FRIEND A T MIDNIGHT. 359 shelter in the house of his friend. It is midnight ere he arrives ; for, footsore and weary, he has consumed many hours in accomplishing the distance between his resting- place at noon and his destination for the night. The in- mates, hearing his knocking and recognising his voice, forth- with open the door and hospitably receive the traveller. But here a new difficulty occurs : the bread prepared for the household had satisfied their wants for the day, but none remained over. The last remnant had been consumed at the evening meal, and the family had retired to rest with the intention of providing early in the morn- ing for the wants of the following day. They had not a morsel to set before the weary stranger. The head of the house, willing to undergo any amount of trouble rather than seem lacking in hospitality, determined to borrow even at that late hour the necessary supply of bread. To the door of his nearest neighbour, accordingly, he went, and knocked as the traveller had already knocked at his own. Between the two villagers a conversation now takes place, the one lying in bed within, and the other standing on the street without. The request is met at first by a polite but peremptory refusal. The hour is untimely; the children are asleep; unwonted movements in the house will awaken and alarm them : better that one stranger should fast till morning than that a whole family should be disturbed in the night. But the suppliant at the door has taken the matter much to heart. The customs of society elevate the exercise of hospitality into the highest rank of virtues : he was ashamed- to be caught off his guard, and unable to comply with the cardinal social duty of the East. He knew not how to meet his friend and confess that he had no bread in his house ; bread he must have, and will not 360 THE FRIEND AT MIDNIGHT. want ; he plies his request accordingly. He will listen to no refusal ; he continues to knock and plead. To every answer from within, " I will not give," he sends a reply from without, " I shall have." It was for the sake of shielding his own sleeping family from disturbance at midnight that this neighbour had, in the first instance, refused ; but now he discovers that the method which he had adopted to preserve the seemly stillness of night is the surest way of disturbing it. At first, that he might protect his sleeping family from disturbance, he refused ; but at last, for the same reason, he complied. Although he would not give from friendship, he gave to importunity. This parable is remarkable in that the temporal and spiritual, instead of lying parallel throughout their length, touch each other only at one point. They are like two straight rigid rods laid one upon another at right angles ; all the weight of the upper rod lies on the under at one spot, and therefore presses there with tenfold intensity. The comparison has been chosen, I think, precisely be- cause of this quality. Because the analogy does not hold good in every feature, it better serves the purpose in hand : the point of comparison delivers its lesson all the more emphatically when it stands alone. When you have been convinced that God cares for his creatures, and have therefore begun, in the Mediator's name, to pray; — when you have not only said a prayer in fulfilment of a commanded duty, but felt a want, and like a little child requested your Father in heaven to supply it, another lesson concerning prayer remains still to be learned — to persevere. When you have asked once — asked many times, and failed to obtain relief, you are tempted gradually to lose hope and abandon prayer. Here the lesson of the parable comes in : it teaches you THE FRIEND A T MIDNIGHT. 3<> I to continue asking until you receive. Ask as a hungry child asks his mother for bread. It is not a certain duty pre- scribed, so that when you have performed it you are at liberty to go away. Nor is it, Ask so many times — whether seven or seventy times seven : it is, Ask until you obtain your desire. When the Lord desired specially to recommend importunity in prayer, he selected a case which teaches importunity and nothing more. He gives us an example in which unceasing pertinacity alone triumphed over all obstacles, and counsels us to go and do likewise when we ask good things from our Father in heaven. In this parable, as in that of the unjust judge, a human motive that is mean is employed to illustrate a divine motive that is high and holy. In both cases the reason of the choice is the same ; and in both the reason of the choice becomes the explanation of the difficulty. An example of persevering importunity in asking was needed in order to become the vehicle of the spiritual lesson ; but in human affairs such an example cannot be found among the loving and generous : you must descend into some of the lower and harder strata of human character ere you reach a specimen of the pertinacious refusal which generates the pertinacious demand. That feature of the Father's government which the Son here undertakes to explain cannot otherwise be represented by analogies drawn from human experience. If the villager had been more generously benevolent, he would have complied at once with the request of his neighbour ; but in that case no suitable example for the Lord's present purpose could have emerged from his act. In order to find an example of persevering importunity, itwas necessary to select a case in which nothing but persevering importunity could prevail 362 THE FRIEND AT MIDNIGHT. The terms are distinct and emphatic : " Though he will not rise and give him because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity, he will rise and give him as many as he needeth." The term avaiSeiav, translated " impor- tunity," signifies freedom from the bashfulness which cannot ask a second time. The shamefacedness which prevents a modest man from importuning a fellow-creature for a gift, after the first request has been refused, is out of place in the intercourse between an empty but believing suppliant and the God of all grace. If this Jewish country- man in his perplexity had been ashamed to ask a second time, he would have failed to accomplish his object ; but because he was not so ashamed, or at least did not permit the shame to drive him from his purpose, he obtained at length all his desire. Now, his conduct in this respect is specially commended to us for imitation in our prayer : " And I say unto you, Ask. and it shall be given you." As that man asked a gift from a brother, we should ask from God. This is the kind of prayer that Christ teaches us to address to God ; and the Son who is in the bosom of the Father will rightly declare the Father's mind. The lesson is in some of its aspects difficult. We have not experience — we have not faculties sufficient to make us capable of understanding it fully. Our Teacher might have maintained silence regarding it ; or he might have said, as we often in substance say to little children, "What thou knowest not now, thou shalt know hereafter ;" and this not from our unwillingness to teach, but from their incapacity to comprehend. But the Lord does not leave us wholly ignorant, because we are incapable of under- standing all. He makes one point abundantly clear — that persevering importunity in prayer is pleasing to God and profitable to men. THE FRIEND A T MIDNIGHT. 363 But the lesson is not easy : analogies drawn from sensible objects or human experience cannot express it fully. The two parables which bear upon it — the one now under consideration, and that of the unjust judge — touch only the edges of the theme. The human motive is in the one picture mean, and in the other wicked ; yet these are the best analogies that can be found on earth for ex- pressing this feature of our Father's love. Knowing the defect of the analogy employed in the parable, the Lord has supported and supplemented it by a fact in his own history. The case of the Syro-phoenician woman (Matt. xv. 21—28), although a historic event, serves also as an allegory. The two parables, one enacted and the other spoken, together make the lesson plain, as far as we are capable of comprehending it. In the mouth of these two witnesses the Lord has established his doc- trine regarding importunate pressure in prayer. When I was a little child I often stood near a forge, and watched a blacksmith at work, admiring the strength and skill of the wonder-working man. He was wont to treat me kindly and bear with me patiently, although I sometimes stood in his way. At one time he would benevolently answer my childish questions ; and at another, instead of answering, would continue to handle his tools with his strong, bare arms, throwing glances of tenderness towards me from time to time out of his deep intelligent eyes, but all in silence. When two pieces of iron, placed in the fire in order to be welded together, became red, I thought and said he should take them out and join them ; but he left them lying still in the fire without speaking a word- They grew redder, hotter; they threw out angry sparks : now, thought I, he should certainly lay them together and strike ; but the skilful 364 THE FRIEND A T MIDNIGHT. man left them still lying in the fire, and meantime fanned it into a fiercer glow. Not till they were white, and bend- ing with their own weight when lifted, like lilies on their stalks — not till they were at the point of becoming liquid, did he lay the two pieces alongside of each other, and by a few gentle strokes weld them into one. Had he laid them together sooner, however vigorously he had beaten, they would have fallen asunder in his hands. The Lord knows, as we know not, what preparation we need in order that we may be brought into union with himself. He refuses, delays, disappoints, — all in wise love, that he may bring the seeker's heart up to such a glow of desire as will suffice to unite it permanently with his own. A father, when his son asks bread, does not give him a stone : when he asks a fish, does not give him a ser- pent. Thus, our Father in heaven gives good things to them that ask him. " The giving God " (tou SiSovtos Qeov James i. 5), is one of his attributes. Why, then, do not all his children get whatever they ask, and when they ask it ? One reason, doubtless, is, that the child, ignorant and short-sighted, often asks a stone or a ser- pent because they seem beautiful, — not knowing that the one is destitute of nourishment, and that the other will sting — and then frets when things are given to him wholly different from those which he desired and expected. Hannah asked a son ; in that case God saw that the request was wise : the child asked bread, and the Father, after the needful trial of faith, bestowed it freely. Some have asked a son, not knowing that in their case the gift would have been a serpent. All their days they have wondered why the boon was denied, and have learned, perhaps, in the light of the great white throne when their THE FRIEND A T MIDNIGHT. 363 days on earth were done, that He who cared for them shielded their bosoms more tenderly and effectually than themselves could have done, from one of the sharpest stings that pierce the flesh of living men. Abraham believed God, and every step of his life-journey was thereby made plain : some great mountains that stood in the path of the patriarch were obliged to get quickly out of the way as he approached. To him that believeth, all things are possible. At midnight, in the parable, the cry for help came, and prevailed. It is never out of season to pray, until you be out of life. He that keeps Israel slumbers not nor sleeps. Come we early, he is awake ; come we late, he has not retired to rest. In prayer, the shamefacedness (ayaiSeia) that shrinks from giving trouble should have absolutely no place. We trouble God by our sins, but not by our prayers. Is the sun burdened by the weight of the planets that hang on him as they run their course ? Is he exhausted by the necessity of supplying them with the light in which they shine ? Would you relieve him by covering some of them up, or blotting them out of being ? The infinite God is not wearied by the weight of all the worlds he has made : the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ is not exhausted by giving a por- tion to each of his regenerated children of human kind. Ten lepers were healed by the word of Jesus, and of them one came back to give him praise. That man in his eagerness pushed aside every obstruction, and pressed through the crowd that encircled the great Teacher, de- manding and engaging his attention. Did the interrup- tion trouble the Lord ? No. Who troubled him ? Not the one who came, but the nine who remained at a dis- tance. With a sigh the Lord said, "Where are the nine ? " 366 THE FRIEND A T MIDNIGHT. He grieved because they did not come back with praise: therefore he would have rejoiced if they had come. But if they who come to Christ to give thanks please him much, they who come to him asking gifts please him more ; for in his own experience, and according to his own testimony, it is more blessed to give than to re- ceive. Some additional light is thrown backward on the parable by the discourse that immediately follows. It was with the view of bringing out and pressing home the lesson from his own picture, that the Lord, in continuation of his teaching, said, " And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you," &c. Two things here are most wonderful ; — one is, that needy men should require so many reasonings to induce them to ask good things from God; and the other is, that God should condescend to employ so many reasonings for that end. One who knew only the pertinacity with which the prodigal held to his hunger, and cold, and nakedness in a foreign land, would be apt to suppose that this son had been harshly treated in his father's house, and that no- thing but punishment awaited him on his return. But if such an observer had been able to witness the actual meeting of father and son when the exile returned at last, he would have learned from the fond reception which the yearning father gave to his erring child, that the son had all along grievously misjudged and misrepresented his father. Suppose, now, the angels, who desire to look into the provisions of the covenant of grace, should have dis- covered only these two things, the need of men, and the mercy of God, they would expect that all the fallen would flock back to his presence, like doves to their win- THE FRIEND AT MIDNIGHT. 367 dows when the tempest comes on : but herein they would find themselves mistaken. That complaint which our Redeemer uttered describes in one stroke the essential characteristic of the lost, — " Ye will not come unto me, that ye might have life " (John v. 40). The Lord, who loves to bestow the blessing, reasons with us from our own experience. Children trust a father, and are not disappointed ; why will you not confide in the Father of your spirits, and live ? In the close of his lesson, he indicates that the best gift of God is the Holy Spirit, and that this gift he is most willing to bestow. More ready than a father is to give bread to a hungry child when it cries, is our Father to give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him. Let us put him to the proof. Let us come at Christ's bidding, and in Christ's name : let us come boldly to the throne of grace. He who reigneth over all has sent for us, and bidden us come — bidden us ask. He will not dis- honour his own promise: treat him as a father, and see whether he will not make you his dear child. In some respects these two, — this and the unjust judge, — are the most wonderful and most precious of all the parables. The rest present such views of divine grace as may be shadowed forth by the ordinary manifestations of human character and action, — such as a shepherd bring- ing back his sheep, or a sower casting his seed into the ground : but these two go sheer down through all that lies on the surface of human history — down throughall the upper and more ordinary grades of human experience, and penetrate into the lower, darker, meaner things at the bottom, in order to find a longer line wherewith to measure out greater lengths and breadths of God's com- passion ; as the shadow in the lake must needs be 368 THE FRIEND A T MIDNIGHT. deepest where the heavens which it represents are highest. I know nothing more amazing, in all these lessons which Christ gave about the kingdom of grace, than the lesson which these two pictures teach about prayer. It is the same lesson that is embodied in one of the most memor- able and mysterious of all the Old Testament facts — Jacob's wrestling with the Angel. Sweet to the Angel of the Covenant was the persistent struggle of the believing man ; and sweet to that same Lord to-day is the pressure which an eager suppliant applies to his heart and his hand. In all the Bible you will not find a word that expresses greater loathing than that which tells us how God regards the Laodiceans who asked as if they cared not whether they obtained or not: "Because thou art lukewarm, and art neither cold nor hot, I will spue thee out of my mouth." The Lord loves to be pressed : let us therefore press, assured by his own word that the Hearer of prayer never takes urgency ill. XIX. THE RICH FOOL. ' And he spake a parable unto diem, saying, The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully : and he thought within himself, saying, What shall I do, because I have no room where to bestow my fruits ? And he said, This will I do : I will pull down my barns, and build greater : and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years ; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry. But God said unto him, Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee : then whose shall those things be, which thou hast provided? So is he that layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God. — Luke xii. 16-21. |HILE Jesus was, in his wonted way, preaching the kingdom to a great multitude, one of the audience, taking advantage probably of some momentary pause in the discourse, broke in upon the solemn exercises with the inappropriate and in- congruous demand, " Master, speak to my brother that he divide the inheritance with me." In regard to the matter in dispute between himself and his brother, this man probably had both an honest pur- pose and a righteous cause. For aught that we know to the contrary, he may have been violently or fraudulently deprived of his share in the inheritance of the family. In the answer of the Lord there is not a word that calls in question the justice of his claim. The question of right and wrong as between the brothers does not constitute an element of the case as it is presented to us ; it it inten- tionally and completely omitted. Dishonesty is a simpler affair, and can be settled in very few words. Elsewhere (9> 24 37° THE RICH FOOL. it is disposed of in a very brief sentence, — " Thou shalt not steal." But here a far more subtle sin is analyzed and exposed. The lesson is not, Take heed and beware of Injustice; but, "Take heed and beware of Covetousness." The warning is directed not against the sin of obtaining wealth by unjust means, but against the sin of setting the heart upon wealth, by what means soever it may have been obtained : this reproof was doubtless a word more in season for the assembly of well-conducted Jews who listened that day to the preaching of Jesus, as it is a word more in season for the members of Christian Churches in this land, than an exhortation to beware of theft. The appeal so inopportunely made, shows incidentally that the people had begun to look on Jesus as a prophet, and to pay great deference to his word. Had he not been already in some sense recognised as an authority, this man would not have applied to him for relief. He was well aware that Jesus of Nazareth could bring no civil constraint to bear upon his brother ; it was the moral influence of the prophet's word that he counted on as the means of accomplishing his purpose : " Master, speak to my brother, that he divide the inheritance with me." He had, perhaps, observed- an amazing effect produced by a word from those meek lips ; he had, perhaps, him- self seen wicked men subdued by it, and heard from others that it had silenced a stormy sea. He may have marked its power in healing the sick and raising the dead. Forthwith he conceived the plan of enlisting this mysterious and mighty word on his own side of a family quarrel. If that word, he thought within himself, were exerted in my behalf, it would induce my brother to give to me the half or the third of the paternal estate, which I claim as my right. THE RICH FOOL. 37 1 We cannot cast the first stone at this poor simpleton, who had no other use for the Redeemer's word than to gain by means of it a few more acres of the earth for himself: in every age, some men may be found who hang on the skirts of the Church for the sake of some immedi- ate temporal benefit. Nor is it difficult to understand the phenomenon : " No man can serve two masters ; " practically each chooses one, and in the main serves him faithfully. If Christ is chosen as Lord and Master, Mam- mon and all other things are compelled to serve: if Mammon is chosen and seated on the throne, he will not scruple to lay heaven and earth under contribution for the advancement of his designs; — Mammon, when master, will take even the word of Christ and employ it as an instrument wherewith he may rake his rags together. How simple and helpless is the man who has allowed wealth to become his chief good ! Here is an example of ungodly simplicity. Without any apprehension of a reproof from the Lord or his disciples, the poor man betrays all : in the public assembly he unwittingly turns his own heart inside out. Instead of addressing to the preacher the question, What must I do to be saved ? showing that the truth had taken effect on his conscience, he pre- ferred a request regarding a disputed property, showing that while the words of Jesus fell on his ears, his heart was going after its covetousness. He attended to the sermon for the purpose of watching when it should be done, that he might then do a stroke of business. We must not too complacently congratulate ourselves on our superior privileges and more reverent habits. If those who wait upon the ministry of the word in our day were as simple as this man was, some requests savouring as much of the earth as his would be preferred at the 37 z THE RICH FOOL. close of the solemnity. If human breasts were trans- parent, and the thoughts that throng them patent to the public gaze, many heads would hang down. From this untimely and intensely earthly interruption the parable springs : thus the Lord makes the covetous- ness as well as the wrath of man to praise him, and restrains the remainder thereof. A fissure has been made in the mountain by some pent-up internal fire that forced its way out, and rent the rock in its outgoing; in that rent a tree may now be seen blooming and bearing fruit, while all the rest of the mountain-side is bare. " Out of the eater came forth meat; out of the strong came forth sweetness." This word of Jesus that liveth and abideth for ever is a green and fruitful tree to-day; but it was the outbursting of a scathing, scorching covetousness that formed the cavity, and supplied the soil in which the tree might grow. "The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully," &c. The ground was his own : no law, human or divine, challenged his right. The ground was eminently fruitful ; the unconscious earth gave forth its riches, making no distinction between one who used it well and one who abused it. On the fields of the covetous man the rain fell and the sun shone: God makes his sun to shine on the evil and on the good. It is not here — it is not now that he judges the world in righteousness. He giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not. Mark now what effect the profusion of nature and the beneficence of God produced on the mind of this pros- perous man. It set him a thinking : so far, so good. The expression in the original indicates a dialogue, and a dialogue is a discourse maintained between two. Dialogue THE RICH FOOL. 373 is, indeed, the original word transferred bodily into the English language : SieXoyi^ero ev eavrw — he dialogued in himself: his soul and he held a conversation on the sub- ject. This was a proper course. When riches increase it is right and necessary to hold a consultation with one's own soul regarding them: in like manner, also, when riches take themselves wings and fly away, a conversation between the same parties should take place regarding their escape. He said, " What shall I do, I have no room where to be- stow my fruits?" The process advances most hopefully: hitherto, no fault can be found with this man's conduct. So great had been his prosperity that he was at a loss for storage. His cup was not only full, but running over, and so running waste; his solicitude now turned upon the question how he might profitably dispose of the sur- plus. Taking it for granted, as any sensible man in the circumstances would, that something should be done, he puts the question, "What shall I do?" A right question, addressed to the proper person, himself. No other person was so well qualified to answer it, — no other person understood the case, or possessed authority to deter- mine it. Listen now to the answer: " He said, This will I do: I will pull down my barns, and build greater," &c. This is the turning-point, and on it the poor man turns aside into error. When God's goodness was showered upon him in such abundance, he should have opened his treasures and permitted them to flow: for this end his riches had been bestowed upon him. When rain from heaven has filled a basin on the mountain-top, the reservoir overflows, and so sends down a stream to refresh the valley below: it is for similar purposes that God in his providential govern- 374 THE RICH FOOL. merit fills the cup of those who stand on the high places of the earth — that they may distribute the blessing among those who occupy a lower place in the scale of prosperity. But self was this man's pole star : he cared for himself, and for none besides. Self was his god ; for to please himself was practically the chief end of his existence. He proposed to pull down his barns, and build a larger store- house on the site, in order that he might be able to hoard his increasing treasures. The method that this ancient Jewish self-seeker adopted is rude and unskilful. We understand better the principles of finance, and enjoy more facilities for profitably investing our savings : but the two antagonist principles retain their respective char- acters under all changes of external circumstances — the principle of selfishness and the principle of benevolence ; the one gathers in, the other spreads out. The method of reserving all for self, is as unsuccessful as it is unamiable : it cannot succeed. The man who should hoard in his own granary all the corn of Egypt, could not eat more of it than a poor labourer — probably not so much. It is only a very small portion of their wealth that the rich can spend directly on their own per- sonal comfort and pleasure : the remainder becomes, according to the character of the possessor, either a burden which he is compelled to bear, or a store whence he daily draws the luxury of doing good. The dialogue proceeds : the man has something more to say to his soul : " Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years," &c. He counts on riches and time as if both were his own, and at his disposal. The big barn is not yet built ; the golden grain that shall fill it has not yet been sown : and even although no accident should mar the material portion of the plan, how shall he secure THE RICH FOOL. 375 the " many years '' that constitute its essence on the other side? Does he keep Time under lock and key in his storehouse, that he may at pleasure draw as much as he requires? Many years! These years lie in the future, — that is, in the unseen eternity. They are at God's right hand — they are not within your reach. Why do you permit an uncertain element to go into the foundation of your hope ? There is, indeed, nothing strange here. It is according to law : those who are taught of the Spirit understand it well. The god of thi.s world hath blinded the minds of them that believe not. " Thou hast goods laid up for many years ! take thine ease, soul ; eat, drink, and be merry !" What simplicity is here ! The case is in degree extreme ; the letters are written large that even indifferent scholars may be able to read the lesson ; but the same spiritual malady, in some of its forms and degrees, is still epidemic in the world : those are least exposed to infec- tion who have their treasures laid up at God's right hand. It is a useful though a trite remark, that there is great stupidity in the proposal to lay up in a barn the portion of a soul. The soul, when it is hungry, cannot feed on musty grain. Material treasures cannot save a soul from death. The representation in the parable, however, is true to nature and fact : it would be a mistake to attribute to a miser a high appreciation of the dignity of man. Covetousness,in its more advanced stages, eats the pith out of the understanding, and leaves its victim almost fatuous. This man, in a dialogue with his own soul, had settled matters according to his own mind. The two had agreed together that they would have a royal time on earth, and a long one. The whole business was comfortably ar- ranged. But at this stage another interlocutor, whom they 376 THE RICH FOOL. had not invited, breaks in upon the colloquy : " God said unto him, Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee ; then, whose shall those things be which thou hast provided ?" This is the writing on the wall that puts an end to Belshazzar's feast, and turns his mirth into terror. The terms run literally, " Unwise, this night they de- mand from thee thy soul." Those ministering angels and providential laws, represented by the drawers of the net in another parable, to whom the Supreme Governor has committed the task of gathering gradually the gene- rations of men from this sea of time, and casting them for judgment on the borders of eternity — those minister- ing spirits, and principles pervading nature, arrive in their course this night at your door, and send the message into the midst of the merry festival, The master of this house is wanted immediately; he must arise and go, in obedi- ence to the summons; he can neither resist nor delay. He may weep, tremble, rage ; but he must go, and go on the instant. It is not the whole man, but only his soul that is wanted : his body will be left behind. But the body, though left behind, cannot claim, cannot use the goods. When the soul is summoned over into eternity, it cannot carry the hoarded treasures with itself, and the body left behind has no further use for them. A grave to rest in while it returns to dust is all that the body needs or gets ; and the deserted wealth must advertise for an owner — whose shall it be ? Our Lord Jesus has spoken these piercing words, not for the sake of the pain which they are fitted to inflict. He is the Healer * of diseased humanity, and when he * Der Heiland — the Healer — is the ordinary epithet applied to the Lord [esus in the religious phraseology of the Germans. The term is suggestive and comforting. THE RICH FOOL. 377 makes an incision he means to cure. This sharp instru- ment, at whose glance we wince and shrink precisely in proportion to the measure of our malady, he wields for the purpose of piercing the deadly tumour, and so saving the threatened life. " A man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth" (ver. 15) ; and the man who places his life therein, loses his life. That is not his life ; and if he take that for his life, he is cheated : when a merchant has given all for what seemed a goodly pearl, he has not another fortune in reserve wherewith to begin anew, if that for which he paid all his possessions turns out to be a worthless toy of glass. Our time, our life — this is our fortune, on which we trade for the better world : if these be spent, — be thrown away for what is not life, then life is lost. Riches are truly enjoyed when they are wisely em- ployed in doing good ; but hoarded as the portion of their possessor, they burden him while they remain his, and rend him at the parting. By way of contrast, the Lord mentions another kind of treasure, which satisfies now, and lasts for ever. Those who are " rich toward God," are rich indeed, and all be- sides are poor : and this wealth is, in Christ, offered free, — offered to all. Seeing that an evil spirit possessed this man, the Lord in mercy applied his word to cast the evil spirit out, and make room for his own indwelling. When the spirit of the world refuses to go out at his word, he sometimes interferes as Ruler in providence, and tears out the in- truder by his mighty hand : the kingdom of heaven that is " within you " also suffereth violence ; and He who is most mighty comes sometimes with merciful strokes to take it by force. " Even so : come. Lord Jesus." XX. THE BARREN FIG-TREE. " There were present at that season some that told him of the Galileans, whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. And Jesus answering said unto thcin, Sup- pose ye that these Galileans were sinners above all the Galileans, because they suffered such things ? I tell you, Nay : but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. Or those eighteen, upon whom the tower in Siloam fell, and slew them, think ye that they were sinners above all men that dwelt in Jerusalem? I tell you, Nay : but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. He spake also this parable ; A certain man had a fig-tree planted in his vineyard ; and he came and sought fruit thereon, and found none. Then said he unto the dresser of his vineyard, Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig-tree, and find none : cut it down ; why cumbereth it the ground ? And he answering said unto him, Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it : and if it bear fruit, well : and if not, then after that thou shalt cut it down." — Luke xiii. 1-9. j]T is obvious that the massacre of the Galileans by Pilate was mentioned on this occasion, not for its own sake, but for the purpose of sup- porting a doctrine which the narrators held and desired to establish. Their meaning is echoed dis- tinctly in the answer of the Lord. These Pharisees seem to have found grist for their own mill in all events and all persons ; everything was turned to the account of their own self-righteousness. Peculiar sufferings seemed to prove peculiar guilt. The logical consequence they did not express, and perhaps did not distinctly frame even in thought; but they solaced themselves with it, notwith- standing: they were not visited by such calamities, and therefore it might be presumed they were not chargeable with such sins. THE BARREN FIG- TREE. 379 The Lord expressly denied the truth of their silent, hidden inference, and fortified his teaching by reference to another analagous case, — the sudden death of some men through the fall of a tower. Leaving untouched the general doctrine that mankind suffer for sin, he clearly and emphatically teaches, that particular calamities do not , measure or prove the particular guilt of those who suffer in them. Otherwise, it is obvious that God's government begins and ends in this life ; there is neither the necessity nor the evidence of a judgment to come. He indicated to the Jews that the sudden and unexpected destruction of those sacrificing Galileans, was but an emblem of the sudden and unexpected destruction that would overtake themselves if they were not converted in time, and shielded in mercy from the judgment that sin entailed. To repeat, expand, and enforce this lesson the parable is spoken : " He spake also this parable," — the similitude is given in addition to the more direct instruc- tion which had gone before, and for the same purpose. " A certain man had a fig-tree planted in his vineyard." This was not a seedling that had sprung accidentally within the fences of the vineyard, and through carelessness been permitted to grow: the language is precise, and indicates that the fig tree had been planted within the vineyard by a deliberate act of the owner. The husband- man planted the fig-tree that he might enjoy its fruit ; ; and in order more effectually to secure his object, he selected for the tree the most favourable position. It is obvious both from the structure and design of the parable that the position of the fig-tree was the best that it could possibly have obtained. In countries where the vine is cultivated, not by a few wealthy proprietors with a view to an export trade, but 3 8o THE BARREN FIG- TREE. by each family on a small scale with a view to the food of the household, to plant some fruit trees of other kinds within the same enclosure is the rule rather than the ex- ception. The vineyard is not the luxury of the few, but a common necessity of life with the many. It becomes the most cherished possession of the permanent rural population. Its aspect is sunward, its soil is good, its fences are in order. Within this favoured spot the owner is willing to make room for one or more fig-trees, for the sake of the fruit which in such favourable circumstances he expects them to bear.* When the tree had reached maturity the owner ex- pected that it should bear fruit; but that year, the next, and a third it continued barren. Having waited a reason- able time, he gave orders that it should be destroyed ; since it produced nothing, he desired to utilize in another way the portion of ground which it occupied. The dresser of the vineyard is a person who has the entire charge, subject to the general instructions of the proprietor. He has long occupied this position, and is acquainted with the fig-tree from its infancy; he knows it, as a shepherd in a similarly primitive state of society knows his sheep. He has formed for it a species of attachment ; and a sentiment akin to compassion springs up in his heart, when he hears its sentence pronounced. " Wood- man, spare that tree," is a species of intercession thoroughly natural and human. The intercession of the dresser, however, is not senti- * In the valley of the Rhine where the vine is cultivated as the material of a great manufacture, and the staple of a foreign trade, fruit trees of othet species are not admitted within the vineyard ; but at Botzen in the Tyrol, where the habits of society are more simple and primitive, I have repeatedly seen fig-trees growing within the lofty wall of the carefully cultured vine- yard, rewarding the possessor for his care with abundant fruit THE BARREN FIG-TREE. 3 8 » merit merely; it is sentiment completely directed and controlled by just reason. He does not plead for the in- definite prolongation of a useless existence. He asks only another year of trial : he intends and promises to take in the interval the most energetic measures for stimulating the barren tree into fruitfulness. If under these appliances it bear fruit, he knows the owner will gladly permit it to retain its place ; if not, he will abanr don it to the fate which it deserves and invites. No peculiar difficulty attends the exposition of this parable : the main features of its meaning are so distinctly marked, that it is hardly possible to miss them. The lesson is easily read ; and when read, it is unspeakably solemn and tender. God is the owner of the vineyard and the fig-tree within its walls. Abraham's seed, natural and mystical, are the fig-tree ; and the Mediator between God and man is the Dresser of the vineyard, the intercessor for the barren tree. These points are all so obvious that there can hardly be any difference of opinion regarding them. One point remains, demanding some explanation indeed, but presenting very little difficulty, — the vineyard. The fig- tree was planted within the vineyard, and what is the doctrine indicated by this circumstance in the material frame of the parable ? The suggestion that the vine- yard means the world, in the midst of which Israel were planted, although supported by some honoured names, does not merit much consideration. In no sense is there any likeness between the vineyard and the world. The essential circumstances involved in the fact that the fig-tree grew within the vineyard are, that in soil, south exposure, care and defence, it was placed in the best possible position for bearing fruit. The one 3 82 THE BARREN FIG-TREE. fact that it was planted in the vineyard indicates, and was obviously intended to indicate, that the owner had done the best for his fig-tree. The meaning is precisely the same as that which is more fully expressed in the analogous parable : " Now will I sing to my well-beloved a song of my beloved touching his vineyard," &c. (Isa. v. 1-7). In the prophet's allegory, while in general the vineyard represents the house of Israel, the vine trees more specifically represent the people, and south exposure, soil, care, and defence, represent the peculiar providence and grace of God displayed in their history and institu- tions. ' The vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel, and the men of Judah his pleasant plant" (ver. 7) ; the plants represent the men, and all that the proprietor did in their behalf represents the goodness of God to Israel in redeeming them from bondage and giving them his covenant. On the same principle in our parable the fig- tree represents the people who were favoured, and the ad- vantages of the vineyard represent the privileges which the people enjoyed. The intimation that this barren fig- tree grew within a vineyard, is a short method of inform- ing us that it enjoyed a position on a very fruitful hill, and was there fenced, watched, and watered with the most patient care. Now, obviously, none of these things, in their spiritual signification, were enjoyed by Israel simply in virtue of their existence in this world. The Egyptians, the Babylonians, and the Persians were placed in the world too, and yet they enjoyed no peculiar privileges, — could not be compared to a vineyard on a very fruitful hill. This feature of the parable, so far from merely intimating that Israel were placed in the world, teaches us that they were separated from it ; they were protected by special providences in their history, and cherished by THE BARREN FIG-TREE. 3 8 3 the ordinances of grace. The place of the fig-tree within the vineyard indicates that the people to whom God looked in vain for the fruits of righteousness, were distinguished from the nations by the peculiar religious privileges which they enjoyed : the favourable circumstances of the tree aggravated the guilt of its barrenness. Three successive years the owner came seeking fruit on this fig-tree, and found none. In regard to the specified period of three years, I do not think we gain much by a particular reference to the well-known natural process by which the fig develops simultaneously the fruit of this season and the germs of the next ; for we do not know in this case whether the germs were never formed, or fell off before they reached maturity. I am not able to perceive that the number three has any necessary reference to the peculiarities of the fig ; I think the same number would have been employed for the purposes of the spiritual lesson, althohgh a fruit tree of another species had been taken as an example. Three years was a reason- able period for the owner to wait, that he might neither on the one hand rashly cut down a tree that might soon have become profitable, nor on the other permit a hope- lessly barren tree indefinitely to occupy a position which might otherwise be turned to good account. While the lesson of the parable bears upon the Church at large, both in ancient and modern times, it is to indi- viduals that it can be most safely and most profitably applied. Most certainly we enjoy at this day the ad- vantages set forth under the figure of the favoured fig- tree. Besides the life and faculties which we possess in common with others, we have spiritual privileges which are peculiar to ourselves. Civil and religious liberty, the Scriptures, the Sabbath, the Church, place us in the 384 THE BARREN FIG-TREE. position of the fig-tree within the vineyard, while other nations are more or less like a tree rooted in the sand, or exposed on the wayside. The God in whom we live has conferred these advantages upon us, that we might bear fruit unto holiness; and if we remain barren, notwith- standing all his kindness, he will give forth the decree to cut us down. In some he finds bad fruit, and in some no fruit, and even in the best, little fruit. He has not cast out the unfruitful, but has tenderly spared them. As the fig-tree greedily drank in the riches of earth and air, and wasted all in leaves, so the unconverted in a land of Christian light enjoy God's goodness and employ it in ministering only to their own pleasures. The line of justice, stretched to the utmost, — to the utmost and more, snaps asunder at last : the sentence goes forth, Cut the barren tree down, and cast it out. This is the doom which guilt deserves and justice proclaims : if the sinful were under a government of mere righteousness, it would be inexorably executed upon all. Here is the turning point : here an intercessor appears, — an Intercessor who cares for man and prevails with God. The first part of his plea is, Spare : he appeals for a respite of definite and limited duration, — one year: less would not afford an opportunity for amendment, and more would in the circumstances confer a bounty on idleness. All who have under the Gospel reached the age of understanding, and' are still living without God in the world, enjoy the present respite in virtue of Christ's compassionate intercession. If that Mediator had never taken up the case, or should now abandon it, the sentence already pronounced would descend like the laws of nature and inexorably execute itself. It is Christ's intercession THE BARREN FIG-TREE. 3^5 alone, that stands between the unpardoned on earth, and the punishment which is their due* But the Intercessor does more than secure for the sinful a space for repentance : He who obtains the respite takes means to render it effectual. The two chief appli- cations employed in husbandry to stimulate growth and fruitfulness are digging and manuring: these accord- ingly the dresser of the vineyard undertakes to apply in the interval to the barren fig-tree. I think something may be gained here by descending into the particulars. One of these agricultural operations imparts to the tree the elements of fruitfulness, and the other enables the tree to make these elements its own. Digging gives nothing to the tree ; but it makes openings whereby gifts from another quarter may become practically available. The manure contains the food which the plant must receive, and assimilate, and convert into fruit ; but if the hardened earth were not made loose by digging, the needed aliment would never reach its destination. Similar processes are applied in the spiritual culture : certain diggings take place around and among the roots of barren souls, as well as of barren fig-trees. Bereave- ments and trials of various kinds strike and rend ; but these cannot by themselves renew and sanctify. They may give pain, but cannot impart fertility : the spirit much distressed may be as unfruitful as the spirits that are at ease in Zion. These rendings, however, are most precious as the means of opening a way whereby the elements of spiritual life conveyed by the word and the Spirit may reach their destination. The Lord who pours * I cannot see any force in the argument by which Stier endeavours to show that the interceding vine-dresser represents primarily the human ministry in the Church. 19) 25 386 THE BARREN FIG-TREE. in the food for the sustenance of a soul, stirs that soul by his providence, so that grace may reach the root and be taken in. As the constituents of fruit, held in solution by air and water, cannot freely reach the plant whose roots lie under a long unbroken and indurated soil, so the grace of God contained in the preached Gospel is kept at bay by a carnal mind and a seared conscience. It is when afflictions rend the heart, as a ploughshare tears up the ground, that the elements of life long offered are at length received. It is thus that providence and grace conspire to achieve the purpose of God in the salvation of men. In this work mercy and judgment meet ; and saved sinners, on earth and in heaven, put both together in their gong of praise (Ps. ci. I.) But a feature appears in the close, well fitted to arouse those who have hitherto presumed upon impunity and neglected Christ. Even this kind Intercessor does not propose that the unfruitful tree should be allowed inde- finitely to maintain its place without changing its cha- racter : He spontaneously concedes that if this trial prove ineffectual, justice must take its course ; " After that thou shalt cut it down." When Jesus lets a sinner go, who shall take him up ? But there is love even in this last stern word. Love intercedes for a time of trial, — an opportunity of turning ; and love, too, after securing sufficient opportunity, lets go its hold and leaves all hopeless beyond. It is the terrible concession, "thou shalt cut it down," issuing from the Intercessor's lips, that gives power to the invitation, " Now is the accepted time." To warn me now that if I let the day of grace run waste, even Jesus on the morrow of the judgment will not plead for me any more, is surely the most effectual means of urging me to close with his offer to-day. XXI. THP2 EXCUSES. "Then said he unto him, A certain man made a great supper, and bade many : and sent his servant at supper time to say to them that were bidden, Come ; for all things are now ready. And they all with one consent began to make excuse. The first said unto him, I have bought a piece of ground, and I must needs go and see it : I pray thee have me excused. And another said, I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to prove them : I pray thee have me excused. And another said, I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come. So that servant came, and showed his lord these things. Then the master of the house being angry said to his servant, Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor, and the maimed, and the halt, and the blind. And the servant said, Lord, it is done as thou hast com- manded, and yet there is room. And the lord said unto the servant, Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled. For I say unto you, That none of those men which were bidden shall taste of my supper." — Luke xiv. 16-24. * CHAIN of connected lessons, consisting ol several links, immediately precedes the parable in the evangelic history ; but we may appre- ciate all the meaning of the parable without reference to the circumstances in which it sprung. In some cases the connection with the context is such that light from the history preceding is necessary to elucidate the meaning of the lesson that follows ; but it is not so here. Although one thing suggests another in the conversation which the Evangelist records, the lesson ultimately given is independent of the things that sug- gested it. Touched by the solemn teaching of the Lord Jesus, one of the company, well-meaning, but dim and confused J88 THE EXCUSES.. in his conceptions, made the remark, " Blessed is he thai shall eat bread in the kingdom of God." Observing that this man and the Pharisees around him were clinging to the notion that to be invited to enter the kingdom is the same thing as to be in it, he spoke the parable to point out the difference, and to show that the invitation will only aggravate the doom of those who refuse to comply with it. He intends to teach the Jews, and through them to teach us, that those who are near the kingdom may in the end come short of it — that those who stand high in spiritual privileges may be excluded — may ex- clude themselves from the kingdom of God. Both in the natural objects employed, and the spiritual lessons which they convey, there is, at some points, a marked resemblance between this parable and that of the royal marriage ; but the two, though similar, are mani- festly distinct. " A certain man made a great supper and bade many." In this case it is not a king but a person in a private station who provides the feast ; and the occasion of the rejoicing is not the marriage of the entertainer's son. It is an ordinary example of hospitality exercised by an affluent citizen. Both here and in the analogous parable of the royal marriage it is assumed, as at least not altogether incon- gruous with custom, that invitations should be issued some days before, and that the invited guests should a second time be warned by a messenger to repair to the banquet- ing house when the time drew near. This summons to attend immediately was sent out at supper time. We know that the term Jeiirvov was in ancient times em- ployed generally to signify the principal meal, without reference to a particular period of the day ; and, from the THE EXCUSES. 389 circumstances of this case, it plainly appears that the feast was a dinner at an early hour, and not a supper in our sense of the word. At the moment when the warn- ing reached him, the man who had bought a field intended to go and see it, and the man who had bought five yoke of oxen intended on that same afternoon to try whether they would go well in harness ; these excuses, although not sincere, must in the nature of the case have appeared plausible, and consequently the feast must have been ready at an early hour of the day. It is implied that these men had tacitly, or in some other well-understood way, accepted the first invitation. They gave no intimation that they intended to decline — they gave the provider of the feast reason to expect their presence. Probably they were well pleased to be in- vited ; if they met any of their poorer neighbours in the interval, it is probable they would take occasion to show their own importance. These common people in the town, and these labourers in the country, are not admitted as we are into good society. When the moment arrived they were unwilling ; or rather they were so intently occupied with their own affairs, that the attractions of the feast were not powerful enough to tear them away. " With one consent" they all made excuses. The servant saw them separately and received their answers. There is no reason to believe that they met together and framed a plan to insult their entertainer. They acted all on the same method, although they did not act in concert. The creatures were of one kind,' and though they answered separately they answered similarly. Off one carnal instinct — anro /x:a? (yvwiutii) — the excuses were taken, and accordingly, although spoken by different per- 39° THE EXCUSES. sons, and moulded by different circumstances, they were all of the same type. The first had bought a field and must go to examine his bargain ; the second had bought live stock for his farm and must see them tried immediately ; the third had married a wife, and held himself absolved for the time from the ordinary rules of society. They are fair samples of the things that occupy and engross men's hearts and lives. The servant, having no authority to act, simply reported the facts to his master. The master was angry, and im- mediately invited all the poor of the neighbourhood to the feast. When many of the most destitute had as- sembled, the householder, not satisfied as long as there was room at the table, and a poor man within reach to occupy it, sent out another message still more pressing, to sweep into the feast all the homeless wanderers that could be found, the very dregs and outcasts of society Satisfied when his house at length was filled, the owner announced that none of thos.e who had made light of his invitation should now be permitted to partake of the feast. We are now ready to examine more directly the spiri- tual meaning of the parable, and as the lesson is in the main coincident with that of the royal marriage in its earlier portion, a brief exposition will suffice. In the Gospel, God has provided a great feast. Israel, or his Church at any period, are a privileged class, and enjoy, through his sovereign goodness, a perpetual in- vitation, — a standing right. The charge which the par- able brings against this privileged people is, that they were satisfied with the honour of being invited, and re- fused actually to comply with the invitation. They were THE EXCUSES. 39 1 content with their name and their outward privileges, and would not in their own hearts and lives obey the Gospel ; clinging to the form of godliness, they peremptorily de- nied its power. Not they who are invited, but they who partake of the feast, are blessed. To get the first invi- tation will be not a blessing but an aggravation of guilt, if you despise the Giver and refuse his gifts. The last invited shall be first in ultimate position if they accept the invitation, and the first invited will be last and lowest if they refuse to comply : the condition of men, ulti- mately, turns not on pardon to them offered, but on pardon by them received. The servant obviously represents the ministry of the Gospel in every form and in all times. The message is addressed in the first instance to them "that were bid^ den.'' The Gospel was not first proclaimed to the hea- then : begin at Jerusalem was the Master's command, and that command was fulfilled in spirit and letter by his servants. To the lost sheep of the House of Israel the Lord came in person, and to them the apostles ad- dressed their Lord's words at the beginning of their min- istry. The history of the event in the Acts of the Apostles corresponds exactly with the prophetic deline- ation in this parable : it was when the Jews rejected the Gospel, that the messengers turned to the Gentiles. The invitation addressed to the favoured circle first is, " Come, for all things are now ready ; " all preceding dis- pensations Were a preparation for Christ. When the fulness of time had come, those who had been all along brought up within the lines of the privileged people, were invited to behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world. This is repeated in the ex- perience of every generation, and every individual, that 39 3 THE EXCUSES. grows up within the circle of Christian ordinances, as soon as the mind comprehends the message of mercy. As each attains maturity, he is informed that all things are now ready; he is invited and pressed to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ that he may be saved. To " make excuse," does not here mean to invent an excuse, and falsely state, as a reason, that which is, in point of fact, not the motive of the act. To make ex- cuse, both in the original Greek {irapaiTeia-Qai) and in the English translation, signifies simply to plead to be excused. The grounds on which the plea is urged, may in any case be true or false ; but in this case, it is highly probable that the grounds stated were in themselves facts, and that they were, in part at least, the true grounds of refusal. Whether the first would have gone to the feast, if he had not at that time bought a property, we do not certainly know. A man who is intensely unwil- ling to go, when one reason fails, will find or make another; but in this case, the probability is, that anxiety to see his purchase was the real, or at least, a real ob- obstacle. The same observation is applicable to the other two examples. But although we concede that the obstacles are real, we do not thereby help the case of those who neglect the Gospel; we must go one step deeper into the strata of deceit that are piled over each other in a human heart. A secret unwillingness to partake of the feast may induce the invited to time his purchases, so that he may have a good excuse at hand, or at least to abstain from effort to regulate the incidence of other cares, so as to leave a time of leisure for the great concern. Here in the high- est matters, as elsewhere in lower, " Where there's a will there's a way." If the desire were pure and true, — the THE EXCUSES. 393 desire to attend the Giver, and receive his unspeakable gift, the field may be inspected and the oxen proved early in the morning, or postponed till the following day, Without supposing a conscious falsehood representing that transactions which had no existence stood in the way, you have the evil in all its bulk and all its virulence, when the deceitful heart tries to persuade neighbours, and to persuade itself, that the emerging necessities of earthly business interfered with the waiting on Christ for the salvation of the soul. We might be put on our guard against this species of deceit in the highest matters, by observing how readily we glide into it, in things of smaller moment. Deceits of every shade, from the lie direct to the most attenuated equivocation, spring in the complicated intercourse of modern society, like weeds in a moist summer on a fallow field. Assuredly, unless our hand be diligent in digging out these bitter roots, we shall not grow rich in the graces of the Spirit. You are invited to a neighbour's house : you don't like to go, and you determine that you will not go. Forthwith your wits go to work to discover an ex- cuse, and you soon find that which you seek for : you must travel on business that day ; or some other excuse equally convenient and plausible occurs. You are in- vited to the house of another neighbonr; difficulties un- foreseen spring up ; but being bent on accepting this in- vitation, you brush them all aside, and contrive to re- serve the evening for the company that you love. There is much danger of staining the conscience in affairs like these. The Lord requires truth in the inward parts : watch and pray. But the difficulty of the path should not make any disciple sad : the effort to walk circumspectly, when 394 THE EXCUSES. honestly, prayerfully, lovingly made, is pleasant and healthful exercise to the spirit. Neither on the natural nor on the spiritual side does the expression, " with one consent," intimate that the parties met and consulted together regarding the terms of their answers. As birds of the same species build their nests of the same material and the same form, without deliber- ation or concert ; so the carnal mind, being in its own nature enmity against God, produces, wherever it operates, sub- stantially the same fruits. In an alienated heart there is an intense unwillingness to be or to abide near to God ; and there is, consequently, great fecundity in the con- ception and production of partition walls to shield the conscience from the glances of his holiness. The three species* of thorns that grew up and choked the word in this instance, are fair specimens of their class — fair samples from the heap. These and such as these slay their thousands still in the Christian Church. At this point, however, it is of very great importance to ob- serve that all the transactions which are represented in the parable as having come between a sinner and the Saviour, are in themselves lawfuL; to overlook this would be to miss half the value of the lesson. In point of fact acts and habits of positive vice keep many back from the Gospel ; but it is not with these cases that the parable deals —it is not to these persons that the Lord is here addressing his reproof. Everything in its own place and time ; the lesson here is not, " A drunkard shall not inherit the king- * I do not set much value on the elaborate and minute discussions which some expositors have raised regarding the distinct and specific significance of the several excuses. It is enough for me that they point to the possessions and the pleasures of life, — the possessions being distinguished into two kinds, the field and oxen, corresponding to the farm and the merchandise of the cognate parable. THE EXCUSES. 395 dom," but " How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation ?" When the material of the temptation is law- ful and honourable the temptation is less suspected, and the tempted is more easily thrown off his guard. The field and the oxen must be bought and used ; the affec- tions of the family must be cherished ; but woe to us if we permit these seemly plants to grow so rank that the soul's life shall be overlaid beneath their weight ! The mission of the servants successively to the streets and lanes of the city, and to the highways and hedges, with the urgent invitation to poor labourers and homeless beggars, the maimed, the halt, and the blind, is a vivid picture, given in prophecy, of what the Gospel of Christ does and will do in the world till the end of time. When many, and these the most wretched, are brought in re- deemed and sanctified, the Lord is not satisfied ; yet there is room, and the servants must go forth again to new, and if possible, more needy objects, with new, and if possible, more urgent appeals. " Whosoever will, let him come." It is thus that the numbers are filled up in the kingdom of God ; but let it be well observed that to be in a spiritually wretched state does not confer a favour or imply safety. These men were saved, not because they were spiritually very low, but although they were spiritually very low: they were saved, although the chief of sinners, because Christ invited them, and they came at his call. The more moral, and more privileged, who were first invited, would have been as welcome and as safe if they had come. THE LOST SHEEP, THE LOST COIN,. AND THE PRODIGAL SON. Luke xv. |HE three parables of this chapter, like the seven in Matt, xiii., constitute a connected series. As soon as we begin to look into their contents and relations, it becomes obvious that they have been arranged according to a logical scheme, and that the group so framed is not fragmentary but complete. We cannot indeed fully comprehend the reciprocal rela- tions of all until we shall have examined in detail the actual contents of each ; and yet, on the other hand, a pre- liminary survey of the scheme as a whole may facilitate the subsequent examination of its parts. A glance to- wards the group from a point sufficiently distant to com- mand the whole in one view may aid us afterwards in making a minuter inspection of details ; and, reciprocally, the nearer inspection of individual features may throw back light on what shall have been left obscure in the general outline. The three parables, then, the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the prodigal son, refer all to the same subject and describe the same fact ; they contemplate that fact, how- ever, from opposite sides, and produce, accordingly, diffe- rent pictures. It is important to notice at this stage that the three parables of this group do not constitute a THE LOST SHEEP, ETC. 397 consecutive series of three members. In the logical scheme the stem parts into two branches, and the first of these is afterwards subdivided also into two : the lost sheep and the lost • coin contemplate the subject from the same side, and in the main present the same representa^ tion.* The repetition is profitable, for besides the intensity which reiteration imparts, the two parables, although generically the same, are specifically different. Together they represent one side of the fall and the redemption of man, while the other and opposite side is represented by the parable of the prodigal. But while the first two re- present the same aspect of the great event, they represent it with specific varieties of feature. This will be more dis- tinctly understood when we shall have examined the parables in detail. In further indicating the relations which subsist between the two portions of the group, I shall, for the sake of shortness, speak only of the lost sheep and the prodigal, including under the first term also its twin parable of the lost money. The sin and the salvation of man, — the fall and the rising again, considered as one "whole, is here contem- plated successively from two different, and in some re* spects opposite points of view. As the result, we obtain * While the evidence that the main division is twofold, not threefold, lies chiefly in the nature of the several representations, the minute formulae by which the transitions of the narrative are effected, point in the same direc- tion. The parable of the lost sheep is introduced by the phrase , "And he spake this parable," (ewre 5e rr\v irapafioKiiv), and that of the prodigal by the corresponding, " And he said," (enre tie). These two are thus balanced over against each other ; but the only link between the lost sheep and the lost silver is, Either ()j), indicating that the second does not introduce a new sub- ject, but gives another illustration of that which was already expressed in the first. 39 8 THE LOST SHEEP, ETC. two very dissimilar pictures ; yet the pictures are both true, and both represent the same object. In as far as the departure is concerned, the two repre- sentations are coincident : it is only in regard to the return that they are essentially diverse. The sheep and the prodigal alike depart of their own accord, the one in ignorance and the other in wilful wickedness. Man destroys himself; but the hand of God must intervene for his salvation.* The conversion of a sinner is, on the contrary, repre- sented by two different pictures. You cannot convey a correct conception of a solid body by one picture on a fiat surface. The globe itself, for example, cannot be exhibited on a map except as two distinct hemispheres. To the right you have a representation of one side, and to the left a representation of the other; the two pictures are different, and yet each, as far as it goes, is a true picture of the same globe. In like manner, the way of a sinner's return to God is too great and deep for being fully set forth in one similitude. In particular its aspect towards God and its aspect towards men are so diverse that both cannot be represented by one figure. On one side the Redeemer goes spontaneously forth to seek and bear back again the lost ; on the other side the wanderer repents, arises, and re- turns. Here, accordingly, you see the shepherd following the strayed sheep, and bringing it back on his shoulders to the fold ; and there you see the weary prodigal first coming to himself, and then coming to his Father. The first picture shows the sovereign self-moving love of God * Bengel, in his usual pointed way, expresses the specific varieties which characterize the three successive views of men's sin, as stupidity, want of self-consciousness, and the positive choice of evil by an intelligent but de- praved being. " Ovis, drachma, Alius perditus : peccator stupidus, sui plane nescius. sciens et voluntarius. '" THE LOST SHEEP, ETC. 399 our Saviour ; and the second shows the beginning, the progress, and the result of repentance in a sinner's heart. These two similitudes represent one transaction : first, you are permitted to look upon it from above, and you behold the working of divine compassion ; next, you are permitted to look upon it from below, and you behold the struggle of conviction in a sinner's conscience, — the spontaneous return of a repenting man. Here is revealed the sovereign outgoing of divine power ; and there in consequence appears a willing people (Ps. ex. 3). It is not that one sinner is brought back by Christ, and another returns of his own accord : both features are present in every example. Of every one who, from this fallen world, shall have entered the eternal rest, it may be said, and will be said in the songs of heaven, both that the Lord his Redeemer, of His own mere mercy, saved him, and that he spontaneously came back to his Father's bosom and his Father's house.* * It is interesting to notice that the same twin doctrines which the Master here exhibited in parables were afterwards taught in the same relation by his servants. Take two examples, one a brief bold allegory, and the other an autobiographic fragment, both from the fervent heart and through the fruitful pen of the apostle Paul. (I.) "Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are his ; and, Let every one that nameth the name of Christ depart from iniquity " (2 Thn. ii. 19). The engraving on the upper side of this seal represents God's part in a sinner's salvation, and corresponds to the shepherd's generous act ; the engraving on its under side represents man's part, and corresponds to the repenting and returning of the prodigal. (2.) " Not as though I had already attained, either were already perfect ; but I follow after, if that I may ap- prehend that for which also I am apprehended of Christ Jesus" (Phil. iii. 12) , The obscurity which adheres to the sentence as it stands in the English Bible is removed when, instead of " that for which," you substitute the more direct and literal rendering, "for that," meaning "because" or " inasmuch as." The sentence should be read, "I follow after, if that I may (if so be that I may) apprehend, inasmuch as I also have been apprehended by, Christ Jesus," (iiaxu 5e « km KOTaXoj3u, t

v ayjekwv). This is not the form of expres- sion that would naturally be employed to intimate that the angels rejoiced. Expressly it is written, not that they rejoice, but that there is joy in their presence, — before their faces. The question then comes up, Who rejoices there? In as far as the terms of the exposition go, the question is not expressly decided ; but its decision can be easily and certainly gathered from the context. Both in the case of the lost sheep and in that of the lost money the comparison is introduced by the term "likewise" (ovrai.) In this manner there is joy before the angels ; in what manner ? Obviously in the manner of the rejoicing which took place after the strayed sheep was brought home, and the piece of money found. He who sought and found the lost, rejoiced over his gain ; but, not con- tented therewith, he told his neighbours about his happi- (») 27 *i8 THE LOST SHEEP. ness and its cause ; he manifested his joy in their presence, and invited them to rejoice in sympathy with himself. It is after this manner that joy in heaven over a repenting sinner begins and spreads. We are not obliged, — we are not permitted to guess who the re- joicers are, or how they came by the news that gladdens them. The shepherd himself, and himself alone, knows that the strayed sheep is safe in the fold again, for he has borne it back on his shoulder : his neighbours did not know the fact until he told them, and invited them to participate in his joy. It is expressly in this manner, and none other, that there shall be joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth. The angels do not become aware of the fact by a species of subordinate omniscience. He who saved the sinner knows that the sinner is saved ; rejoicing in the fact, he makes it known to his attendants, and invites them to share in hjs joy. The gladness that thrills in the angels is a secondary thing, caught by sympathy from that which glows in the heart and beams in the countenance of Jesus. The Son of God the Saviour having won a sinner by the power of his love, and brought the wanderer back forgiven and renewed, rejoices on his throne over this fruit of his soul's travail. Ere the ransomed sinner has risen from his knees or wiped his tears away ; — ere he has had time to sing a hymn or sit down at the communion table on earth, the Lord in heaven, feeling life flowing from himself into that living soul, rejoices already in the fact, and calls upon his friends, whether the spirits of just men or angels unfallen. or both in concert, to participate in his joy. The Apoca- lyptic witness saw no sun in the new heaven; "the Lamb is the light thereof:" from that sun the light streams down on the sea of upturned faces that surround the THE LOST SHEEP. 4 1 9 throne, and the sympathetic gladness that sparkles in the members is' a reflection from the gladness that first glows in the Head, as a separate sun glances on the crest of every wavelet, when the breeze is gentle and the sky is bright. (2.) The intimation that there is greater joy in heaven over the return of a single wanderer than over ninety and nine who never strayed, presents indeed a difficulty ; but here, as in many other similar cases, the difficulty lies more in the way of the scientific expositor, whose task is to express the meaning in the form of logical definitions than in the way of the simple reader of the Bible, who desires to sit at the feet of Jesus, and learn the one thing needful from his lips. In this, as in many other portions of Scripture, a hungry labourer may live upon the bread, while it may baffle a philosopher to analyze its consti- tuents, and expound its nutritive qualities. A devout reader may get the meaning of the parable in power upon his heart, while the logical interpreter expends much pro- fitless labour in the dissection of a dead letter. Who are the just persons who need no repentance ? The suggestion* that they are the members of the Old Testament Church, who really possessed the righteous- ness of the Law, although they had not attained the right- eousness of the Gospel, creates a greater difficulty than that which it proposes to remove. There is not any such essential difference between the righteousness of Abra- ham, who looked unto Jesus coming, and the righteous- ness of Paul, who looked unto Jesus come. The true solution I apprehend to be that in the mind of the Lord this declaration had a double reference. It expressed an absolute and universal truth, known to him- * Made or adopted by Dr. Trencli +20 THE LOST SHEEP. self and to his enlightened disciples ; and also, at the same time, took the Pharisees on their own terms, con- demning them out of their own mouth. The parable was spoken expressly to the Pharisees, and spoken specifically in answer to their objection, " This man receiveth sinners." They meant to intimate that it became the Messiah to shun the evil and associate only with the good. From their own view-point he exposes their mistake ; even granting their assumption that themselves were the right- eous, their sentence was erroneous. According to the principles of human nature, and the ordinary practice of men, they might have perceived that the chief care of the shepherd must be bestowed on the sheep that has gone astray, and his greatest joy be experienced when it has been discovered and restored. The Saviour's delight over a publican's return to piety should be more vivid than his joy over a Pharisee, who, by the supposition, has been pious all his days. Had the Lord then and there intimated to the Phari- sees that they were deceiving themselves in regard to justifying righteousness, — that they needed repentance as much as the publicans, his word would have been true, but that truth, he perceived, was not suitable in the cir- cumstances. It pleased him at this time not to fling a sharp reproof in their faces, but rather to drop a living seed gently into their ears, that it might find its way in secret to some broken place in their hearts. A certain portion of the truth he communicated to them ; more they would not have received. The whole truth on this subject, if it had been bluntly declared, would have driven them away in disgust. Elsewhere the Master expresses his mind very clearly, Except your righteousness exceed the righteousness of the THE LOST SHEEP. 421 Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven ;' ' but it pleased him on this occasion to teach another lesson, namely, that even although they were as righteous as they deemed themselves to be, the recovery of a lost one would afford the Redeemer a greater joy than the retention of the virtuous. Beyond expression precious is the doctrine unequivocally taught here that so far from receiving prodigals with a grudge, the Saviour experiences a peculiar delight when a sinner listens to his voice and accepts pardon at his hand. This doctrine we learn is divine; we know it is also human: almost every family can, supply an example of the familiar principle that the mother loves most fondly the child who has cost her most in suffering and care. XXIII. THE LOST COIN. ' Either what woman having ten pieces of silver, if she lose one piece, doth not light a candle, and sweep the house, and seek diligently till she find it ? And when she hatn found it, she callcth her friends and her neighbours together, saying, Rejoice with me ; for I have found the piece which I had lost. Likewise, I say unto you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth." — Luke xv. 8-10. |HE three parables of this group, as has been already intimated, do not constitute a simple consecutive series of first, second, and third : the group consists of two parts, and the first part contains two parables. The saving of the lost is represented in the first division as it is seen from God's side, and in the second as it is seen from man's. In the first, the Saviour appears seeking, finding, and bearing back the lost ; in the second, the lost appears reflecting, repenting, resolving, and returning to the Father. The two parables which constitute the first division are generically coincident, but specifically distinct. Both represent the side on which the sinner is passive in the matter of his own salvation, and the parable of the pro- digal alone represents the aspect in which he is spon- taneously active ; but while the first two agree in their main feature, they differ in subordinate details. The second goes partly over the same ground that has already THE LOST COIN- 4*3 been traversed by the. first, and partly takes a new and independent track of its own.* From the similarity of structure and the studied iden- tity of expression in the two cases, I gather surely that *■ Recognising in the lost coin niainly a repetition of the same lesson which the lost sheep contained, but justly anticipating from the mere fact of a repetition, that the second will present some features which were not contained in the first, Dr. Trench finds the expected difference in this, — that "if the shepherd in the last parable was Christ, the woman in this may, perhaps, be the Church." After suggesting as an alternative that the woman may represent the Holy Spirit, he remarks that these two are in effect substantially identical, and finally rests in the conclusion that it is "the Church because and in so far as it is dwelt in by the Spirit, which appears as the woman seeking her lost. " This able expositor speaks with evident hesitation when he represents the Church as the seeker here ; and accordingly we find him with a happy inconsistency affirming in a subse- quent paragraph that "as the woman, having lost her drachm, will light a candle and sweep the house, and seek diligently till she find it, even so the Lord, through the ministrations of his Church, gives diligence to recover the lost sinner," &c. I am willing to accept the phraseology of this sen- tence, but it is obviously at variance with the view which he had previously presented, and to which he recurs in the close, that in this parable it is the Church which seeks the lost, while in the preceding parable it is the Saviour. Further, if he maintain that the woman seeking the lost coin represents the Lord seeking sinners through the ministrations of the Church, he must also maintain that the shepherd seeking the lost sheep represents the Lord seeking sinners through the ministrations of the Church. If the Lord himself is in both cases equally the seeker, there is no reason in the text of Scripture, and Dr. Trench suggests none from any other quarter, why he should be represented as seeking through the ministrations of the Church in one case and not in the other. The letter of the word and the nature of the case peremptorily demand that the qualification regarding the instrumentality of the Church should be attached to both or to neither. In either case it remains that, in respect to the person who seeks the lost, these two parables teach precisely the same lesson. The house in which the coin is lost means, according to Dr. Trench, the visible Church : the result is that the Church (invisible) searches in the Church (visible) for sinners that have been lost there, and restores them when found to the Church, but whether the visible or invisible I cannot discover. The Church then calls upon the angels to rejoice with her over the recovery of the lost. This exposition seems confused and inconsistent ; and it is a dim mysterious conception of " the Church" that constitutes the disturbing element. 424 THE LOST COIN. the persons who seek and find the lost in those two par- ables both represent the same Seeker of lost men, the Lord Jesus Christ. On any other supposition, I cannot find a spot on which the foundation of a satisfactory exegesis can be laid. The introduction of the second parable by the particle either (»?) in the eighth verse, pre- pares us to expect, not another subject, but another illus- tration of the same subject ; whereas, when the Prodigal Son is introduced in the eleventh verse, the connecting link distinctly indicates a change of theme.* Assuming from the fact of its repetition that some feature or features of the lesson must be contained in the second picture which the first was not fitted to dis- play; and finding in the possessors, with their misfor- tune, their success and their joy, no difference, but on the contrary, a studied balanced parallelism, I look for the distinction in the nature of the property which, in the two cases respectively, was lost and found. , The sheep is an animated being, with desires, and appetites, and habits, and locomotive powers; when it is lost, it is lost in virtue of its own will and activity. The silver coin, on the other hand, is a piece of inanimate matter; and when it is lost, it is lost through its own gravity and inertia. * Nor do I see any force in the minute criticism by which Dr Trench endeavours to make out that while the sheep were the shepherd's property, the money did not belong to the woman. He says, "I have found my sheep which was lost;" while she says, "I have found the piece which I had lost ; " but these are nothing more than varieties of expression. The absolute identity of the terms in which the two cases are introduced, proves that these seemly and slight variations of phraseology at the close, do not indicate a substantial difference. " What man of you having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them?" and " What woman, having ten pieces of silver, if she lose one piece ? " — these questions, so carefully and com- pletely parallel, conclusively show that, after making allowance for the necessary difference in the nature of the subjects, the two cases, in relation to possession, loss, and finding, are precisely the same. THE LOST COIN. 4*5 When support fails, it falls to the ground. Here lies an inherent and essential difference between the two cases. It is through this opening mainly that light comes to me regarding- the specific difference between the lessons which these two cognate parables respectively convey. The inquiry at present concerns this difference only, for the doctrine which is taught in common by both is abund- antly obvious. While in both examples alike the pro- perty is lost and found again, the manner of the loss and the finding corresponds in each case to the nature of the subject. In the case of the living creature, the loss is sustained through its spontaneous wandering; in the case of the inanimate silver, the loss is sustained through its inherent inertia. The one strays in the exercise of its own will, and the other sinks in obedience to the laws of matter; the method of search varies accordingly. Both parables alike represent the sinner lost and the Saviour finding him ; but in the one case the loss appears due to the postive activity of an evil will, and in the other to the passive law of gravitation. Not that, in the spiri- tual sphere, one sinner departs from God by an exercise of his corrupt will, and another is drawn away by the operation of an irresistible law; it is one transaction re- presented successively on two sides. The representations are different, but both are true. In the fallen, sin is both active and passive. The sinful select their own course and go astray in the exercise of a self-determining power ; they also gravitate to evil in virtue of an inborn corrup- tion, which acts like a law in their members. In con- nection with these two sides or features of sin, the two doctrines opposite and yet not contrary, the sovereignty of God and the responsibility of man, meet and embrace each other in the work of redemption. To the disease of 426 THE LOST COIN. sin in both its phases, — as an active choice and an innate tendency, — the divine physician has prepared an antidote; He brings the wanderer home, and lifts the fallen up. Compare once more the lost sheep and the lost coin : in both the sinful are lost, and in both the Saviour saves ; but there we see a spontaneous error, and here the effect of inherited corruption. These, when kept together like the right and left sides of a living man, constitute, in this matter, the whole truth : to tear them asunder is to kill both. The number of the coins is appropriately fixed at ten, while the number of sheep was a hundred. Ten sheep would not have required or repaid the care of a shepherd ; and a hundred pieces of silver would not, in ordinary cir- cumstances, have been at one time in the hands of a working woman. The difference of numbers is fully accounted for by the natural circumstances, and no bene- fit is obtained by squeezing from it a distinct spiritual signification. The numbers, I think, belong to the ad- juncts of the material pictures, and they constitute only elements of disturbance when they are brought into the interpretation. The lessons which some draw from the preciousness of the metal on the one hand, and the image of the king which it bears on the other, although attractive and use- ful in themselves, are not relevant here. It is better to forego for the time even precious morsels of instruction, than to obtain them by doing violence to those exquisite analogies which the parables present. XXIV. THE PRODIGAL SON. * And he said, A certain man had two sons; and the younger of them said to his fathei, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living. And not many days after the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living. And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land ; and he began to be in want. And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country ; and he sent him into'his fields to feed swine. And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the swine did eat : and no man gave unlo him. And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger ! I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son : make me as one of thy hired servants. . And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed, him. And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more. worthy to be called thy son. But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him ; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet ; and bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it : and let us eat, and be merry : for this my son was dead, and is alive again ; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry. Now his elder son was in the field : and as he came and drew nigh to the house, he heard musick and dancing. And he called one of the servants, and asked what these things meant. And he said unto him, Thy brother is come ; and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him safe and sound. And he was angry, and would not go in : therefore came his father out and intreated him. And he answering said to his father, Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment : and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends : but as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf. And he said unto him, Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad : for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again ; and was lost, and is found." — Luke xv. 11-32. fjECALL the relation that subsists between this parable on the one hand, and the two that immediately precede it on the other. These two divisions of the group contain two different and in some respects opposite representations. Both exhibit the salvation of lost men ; but in the first, that 428 THE PRODIGAL SON. deliverance appears as the effect of the Redeemer's sovereign love and care ; in the second, it appears to spring in the depths of the sinner's own soul. There the wanderer is sought and found and borne back ; here he spontaneously repents and returns. There the Sa- viour's part is revealed ; and here the sinner's. These examples represent not two distinct experiences, but two sides of the same fact. It is not that some of fallen human kind are saved after the manner of the strayed sheep, and others after the manner of the pro- , digal son ; not that the Saviour bears one wanderer home by his power, and another of his own accord arises and returns to the Father. Both these processes are accomplished in every conversion. The man comes, yet Christ brings him ; Christ brings him; yet he comes. In the two pictures which we have last examined, the sovereign love and power of the Redeemer occupied the front, while the subjective experience of a repenting man was thrown scarcely visible into the back-ground ; in the picture which is now under inspection the view is re- versed — the subjective experience of the sinning man is brought full size into the centre of the field, while the compassion of a forgiving God, although distinctly visible, lies in smaller bulk behind. Among the parables that of the prodigal is remarkable for the grandeur of the whole, and the exquisite- beauty of the parts. The sower is the only one that can be compared with it in comprehensive completeness of out- line and articulate distinctness of detail. These two greatest parables, however, are thoroughly diverse in kind. The two chief elements which generally go into the composition of a parable are the processes of nature and the actions of living men — parables, in short, as to THE PRODIGAL SON. 4*9 their constituents, are composed of history and natural history. In the tares, for example, both these elements are combined in nearly equal proportions. In the mali- cious sowing of the darnel, the zealous proposal of the servants, and the cautious decision of the master, you have threads of human motive and action running through the whole ; but in the growth of the darnel, its likeness to the wheat in spring, and the decisive difference be- tween them ' in the harvest, you have the processes of nature profusely intertwined. A parable is ordinarily woven of human action and the unconscious development of nature, as warp and woof. In the two greatest parables those twin ingredients are in a great measure separated : the sower is almost wholly composed of processes in nature, the prodigal almost wholly of human motive and act. This parable reveals one of the brightest glimpses ot God's character and way that men in the body can ob- tain. There are greater and less among the parts of God's word as well as among the parts of his creation. Taking the discourses of the Lord Jesus, as the little child took the stars, for " gimlet-holes in heaven to let the glory shine through," we find in the prodigal the largest of them all. It differs from other stars in the same firmament by its bulk and its brightness. Never man spake like this man ; and nowhere else has even this man spoken more fully or more winsomely of man's need and God's mercy. Both the departure and the return — both the fall and the rising again, are depicted here. The lesson sweeps the whole horizon of time from the unfallen state at first to the glory that shall at last be revealed. The way is laid open with marvellous pre- cision from the lowest state of sin and misery to a 43° THE PRODIGAL SON. heavenly Father's heart and home. Here a gate is opened by the Mediator's hand, and no man can shut it, until the angel shall proclaim that time shall be no more. Here resounds a voice clear, human, memorable — a voice that all the hum of the world cannot drown, proclaiming to the lowest, furthest outcasts, and to the latest genera- tions, " Whosoever will, let him come." * It is not necessary in this case to submit a sketch of the material frame-work : there it lies, and the simplest may see it for himself. The least learned may go round without a guide, and not miss any essential feature of the scene. In this case the bare reading of the story from the Bible leaves the image sharply outlined, and permanently impressed upon the reader's mind. Assum- ing that the body of the lesson may be easily seen, let us proceed at once to seek for its soul in the spiritual mean- ing, which the picture covers and yet reveals. "A certain man had two sons:" one of the greatest difficulties meets us in the first line. It is evident that * A curious illustration of the bondage to which an indurated Erastianism has reduced many of the Protestant Churches of the Continent, is incidentally afforded in a remark made by Stier regarding the peculiar fulness and pre- ciousness of this parable: — "That this parable, which Lange beautifully terms a gospel within a gospel, this universal text for preaching about the lost and recovered sons of our heavenly Father (and the hopelessly lost first- born to the rich possessions of the house), should be wanting in the peri- copse of the Sunday Kalendar, is an omission which is utterly unjustifiable on any ground whatever, which is not compensated by the insertion of the previous similitudes, and which of itself is ample reason for that reformation of the Kalendar which Palmer desires." — Words of the Lord Jestts, in loc. The successors of Luther roust, it seems, tread the mill from year to year on the same limited curriculum of texts which their Kalendar contains ; and those of them who are weary of the restraint long in vain for an opportunity to preach on such a subject as the prodigal, for it is not set down in the bond. That Church surely is greatly defective both in godliness and manli- ness, that cannot or will not throw open all the Word of God alike, at all limes, to its ministers and congregations in their Sabbath solemnities. THE PRODIGAL SON. 431 God, as specially manifested in the Gospel, is represented by the father ; but who are represented by the two sons, — the elder, who remained at home, and the younger, who went away ? On this point three distinct interpretations have been suggested : the two brothers of the parable may represent angels and men, Jews and Gentiles, or Pharisees and publicans. I do not think it is a profitable method to send these three into the field to fight until two are destroyed, and one is left in undisputed possession. I am convinced that we shall more fully and more correctly ascertain the mind of the Lord by employing them all than by selecting one. In representing the human figure, an artist may pro- ceed upon either of two distinct principles, according to the object which, for the time, he may have in view. He may, on the one hand, delineate the likeness of an indi- vidual, producing a copy of his particular features, with all their beauties and all their blemishes alike : or he may, on the other hand, conceive and execute an ideal picture of man, the portrait of no person in particular, with fea- tures selected from many specimens of the race, and com- bined in one complete figure. The parable of the prodi- gal is a picture of the latter kind. It is not out and out the picture of any man ; but it is, to a certain extent, the picture of every man. This prophecy of Scripture is not of private construction ; and therefore it is not of private interpretation. As the ideal portrait is in one feature the likeness of this man, and in another the likeness of that man, while it is not throughout the likeness of any ; so the elder and younger sons of this parable find at one point their closest counterpart in angels and men, at another in Jews and Gentiles, at a third in Pharisees and publicans, and indefinitely in as many pairs of correspond- 43 z THE PRODIGAL SON. ing characters as have been, or may yet be, found in the world. In the first act of the drama, — the departure of the younger son, the case of angels and men, presents by far the most exact counterpart to the case of the two brothers. Man is the youngest child of God's intelligent family. Elder and younger remained together in the house awhile. You may observe sometimes in human families that the children who have reached the years of understanding at the birth of the youngest rejoice over the infant with a fondness second only to that of the mother. Thus the elder brother angels of our Father's house, — the morning stars of creation, sang together over the advent of man. But the younger son did not remain in the house : having be- come alienated in heart from the Father, he was uneasy in his presence, and sought relief by going out of sight. In the description of the younger son's conduct, we find a picture both of the first fall and of the actual apostasy of each separate sinner. "The younger said to his father, Father give me the portion," &c. Only his words are pre- served in the record ; but we know that thoughts unseen in his soul were the seeds whence these words sprang. He desired to please himself, and therefore grew un- happy under the restraints of home. Bent on enjoying the pleasures of sin, he determined to avoid the presence of his father: alienated in heart, he becomes vicious in life. The same two elements go to constitute the character and condition of the sinful before he is reconciled to God. There is a lower and a higher link in the chain that binds the slave. There is a body of this death, and a soul : there is a spiritual wickedness in high places, and a bodily wickedness in low places. The one is guilt, the other sin the heart is at enmity, and the life is disobedient. THE PRODIGAL SON. 433 The younger son did not humbly sue for a gift from his father's bounty: he claimed a share of the property as of right. The terms are significant ; " Give me the por- tion of goods that falleth (to eirifidWov fiepos) to me." The phrase faithfully depicts the atheism of an unbeliev- ing human heart; the fool hath said in his heart, "No God." He has become brutish : as swine gather the acorns from the ground, heedless of the oak from which they fell ; alienated men snatch God's gifts for the gratification of their appetites, and forget the giving God. This seeing eye, and this hearing ear, and these cunning hands, the irreverent son counts his own, and determines to employ them in ministering to his own pleasure. The father might justly have refused to comply with his son's demand : although a certain part of the pro- perty might by law "fall" to the younger son at the death of the father, there was no law or custom that gave the youth a right to any of it during his father's life. In this case, however, the father saw meet to let the young man have his own way ; he threw the reins loose upon the neck of the prodigal. Although the father of his flesh could not see the end from the beginning, the Father of his spirit, in permitting his departure, already planned the glad return. "Not many days after :" weary of paternal restraint, he made off as soon as possible. He gathered all ; for he needed all as a price in his hand to pay for his pleasure. He went into a far country, and there wasted his sub- stance with riotous living. Even a large substance may in this manner soon be consumed ; money and health waste away quickly when they are employed as fuel to feed the flame of lust. An interesting parallel to this portion of the parable occurs in Luke xii. 45. A servant '9) 28 434 THE PRODIGAL SON. to whom much had been intrusted thought his mastei was at a great distance, and would remain a long time away ; then and therefore he began " to beat the men- servants and maidens, and to eat and drink, and to be drunken." It is when a man is, or imagines himself to be, far from God that he dares to indulge freely his vicious propensities : and conversely, those who are secretly bent upon a life of sin, put God far from their thoughts, in order that they may not be interrupted in their pleasures. The crisis came. The "season" of pleasure did not last long ; and the man who had " sowed to the flesh " was compelled to fill his bosom with an early harvest of misery. The hunger, nakedness, and shame that accu- mulated on the head of this wayward youth aptly repre- sent the bitter fruits which sin, even in this life, bears as an earnest of the full wages in the second death, which it promises to pay its servants. His sufferings did not in the first instance turn him from his sin : human sorrow is not all or always godly sorrow. Although the prodigal was in want, he did not return to his father. Convictions and terrors in the con- science seldom bring the wanderer at once to the door of mercy : he generally tries in succession several other methods in order to obtain relief. As the prodigal attempted to keep body and soul together by the most desperate and loathsome expedients, rather than throw himself on his father's compassion ; so an alienated human soul, conscious of having wantonly offended a good God, and therefore hating deeply the Holy One, will bear and do the will of the wicked one to the utmost extremity of misery rather than come home a beggar, and be indebted for all to a father's love. The picture. THE PRODIGAL SON. 435 although drawn by the Master's own hand, is necessarily drawn in the colours of external nature, and therefore it comes far short of the original, which is a spiritual wick- edness. The cherished son of an affluent and honour- able house in Israel has become the swineherd of a stranger in a famine-stricken land : the transition is as great as could be displayed on the limited stage of the present world ; but when he who was made in God's image and treated as God's child is bound by the chain of his own passions, and indentured as a slave in the devil's service, the fall is greater, as heaven is higher than the earth, and the world of spirit deeper than the world of flesh. "No man gave unto him :" when a son deserts the Father of lights, from whom every good gift comes down, his soul cannot be satisfied from other sources : the world's breasts are dry, or yield only poison to the eager drawing of the famished child. There is a blank in the history here. The later stages of the prodigal's misery are not exhibited in the light : fully exposed, they might have been shocking rather than impressive. Every height has its opposite and cor- responding depth : as eye has not seen nor ear heard in all its fulness the blessedness that God hath prepared for them that love him ; so neither can our faculties measure the miseries of sin, in their foretastes here and their fulness hereafter. How the prodigal fared under that veil, as his misery day by day increased to its climax, we know not ; but at length he suddenly emerges another man. " He came to himself :'' the wild foul stream that had sunk into the earth and flowed for a space under ground, bursts to the surface again, agitated still indeed, but now comparatively pure. We learn for the first time that the man has been mad, by learning that his reason 43^ THE PRODIGAL SON. is restored. It is a characteristic of the insane that they never know or confess their insanity until it has passed away : it is when he has come to himself that he first discovers he has been beside himself. The two beings to whom a man living in sin is most a stranger are him- self and God ; when the right mind returns, he becomes acquainted with both again. The first act of the pro- digal, when light dawned on his darkness, was to converse with himself, and the second to return to his father. A man can scarcely find a more profitable companion than himself. These two should be well acquainted, and deal frankly with each other ; in the case of the prodigal how disastrous was the estrangement, how blessed the reconciliation between them ! The young man, during the period of his exile, was as much a stranger to himself as to his father. His return to himself became the crisis of his fate ; from the interview sprang the burning thought, " I will arise and go to my father," and the resolute deed, " he arose and went." When he had determined to return, he returned at once, and returned as he was. Emaciated by prolonged want, — naked, filthy, hungry, he came as he was. He did not remain at a distance until by efforts of his own he should make himself in some measure worthy to resume his original place in the family ; he came in want of all things, that out of his father's fulness all his wants might be supplied. The signification of this feature on the spiritual side is obvious ; it exhibits a cardinal point in the way of a sinner's return to God. But while the repenting youth did not pretend to bring anything good to his father's house, neither did he pre- sume to bring thither anything evil : his poverty and hunger were brought with him, but the companions and THE PRODIGAL SON. 437 instruments of his lusts were left behind. This is a dis- tinctive discriminating feature of true repentance. In the act of fleeing to his father the prodigal leaves his associates, and his habits, and his tastes behind : and con- versely, as long as he clings to these he will not — he can- not return to his father. In the narrative it is made evident that a return to his father was the son's last resort ;. he did not adopt it — he did not even entertain it, until all others had failed. The grief which he must have • known his unnatural exile caused in the bosom of the family at home did not move him : even want, when it came upon him like an armed man, failed to overcome his stubborn spirit. He will be the servant of a stranger rather than his father's son ; he would live on swine's food, if it had power to sustain a human life, rather than sit at his fathers table. It was not till death stared him in the face that he consented to return. He encountered all extremities of privation rather than come home ; no thanks to him, then, for coming at last. Yet he was received with an ardent welcome, and without upbraiding. The son's sullen, obdurate, desperate resistance becomes a measure and a monument of the father's forbearing, forgiving love. It is thus that sinful men return to God in Christ to-day ; and thus that God in Christ to-day receives sinful men. Prodigals returning deserve nothing, and yet obtain all. Of even the last rag of merit that the imagination can conjure up — the merit of being willing to receive favour — they are utterly destitute. Though we do not come back to our father until all other resources have failed — although we come, as it were, only when we cannot help coming, he receives us with open arms ; he takes the sin away, and does not cast it up. 43 8 THE PRODIGAL SON. " When he was yet a great way off his father saw him." He must have been looking out. Often, doubtless every day, his eye turned and strained wistfully in the direction of his son's retiring footsteps. While that son was starv- ing in a foreign land, his father was weeping at the win- dow, longing for his return ; when at last the prodigal appeared, the watchful father caught sight of his form in the distance, and ran to meet him. Behold again in this glass another feature of redeeming love ! Jesus, looking down on Jerusalem, wept for sorrow, because its giddy multitude would not turn and live ; if they had with one accord come forth to accept the pardon which he offered, he would have wept again for joy. In his tears, as well as in his teaching he showed us the Father. The reconciliation is immediate and complete. The parable reveals an extraordinary outburst of paternal tenderness. The son, melted, and in some measure con- fused by the undeserved, unexpected warmth of his re- ception, bethought of the speech which, at the turning point of his repentance, he had resolved to address to his father, and began to recite it as he had conned the words in exile : — " Father, 1 nave sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son;" but there stopped short, omitting the portion about being content with the position of a hired servant. Bengel suggests that the father may have cut the prodigal's speech short by giving aloud an order to the servants for the kind and honourable reception of his child ; but another thought, also suggested by the same acute and experimental expositor, brings out, I think, more truly the deep significance of the omission : — The son lying on the father's bosom, with the father's tears falling warm on his upturned face, is some degrees further advanced in the THE PRODIGAL SON. 439 spirit of adoption than when he first planned repentance beside the swine in his master's field. There and then the legal spirit of fear because of guilt still lingered in his heart ; he ventured to hope for exemption from de- served punishment, but not for restoration to the place of a beloved son. Now the spirit of bondage has been con- clusively cast out by the experience of his father's love ; the fragments of stone that had hitherto remained even in a broken heart are utterly melted at last, as if by fire from heaven. He could not now complete the speech which he had prepared ; its later words faltered and fell inarticulate. He could not now ask for the place of a servant, for he was already in the place of a son.* * The paraphrase of this Scripture, in * selection employed in most of the Presbyterian Churches of Scotland, stumbles at this point, and misses the meaning of the text. Overlooking the mighty step of progress which the prodigal had made between the time when his accummulating convictions turned the balance first in favour of repentance, and the time when the lasl fragment of distrust melted away in the flood of a full reconciliation, the hymn represents the son as still pleading specifically to be sent away into the place of a servant, after the embrace, and the kiss, and the tears of his father had bestowed and triply sealed his sonship. " He ran and fell upon his neck, Embraced and kissed his son : The grieving prodigal bewailed The follies he had done. " No more, my father, can I hope To find paternal grace ; My utmost wish is to obtain A servant's humble place." No ; after the meeting the youth did indeed say that he was not worthy to be called a son, but he did not say he had abandoned the hope or the desire of being reinstated. Yet, notwithstanding this and other errors that have crept into the collection, and the superior character of many that are excluded from it, no vigorous effort has been made to obtain a revision in order to exclude the faulty and introduce better in their stead. Conservative inertia — an instinct to keep unchanged what has descended to us from our fathers — is a great and curious power in human nature, operating both on Church and State. Although not creditable to the wisdom and courage of men. it is doubtless overruled for good by the providence of God. 440 THE PRODIGAL SON. The father's command regarding the son's reception represents the complete reconciliation of the Gospel — the total oblivion of the prodigal's past sins, and his admis- sion into the favour and the family of God, as a dear child. Even the details at this point have been framed after the pattern of spiritual privileges as they are elsewhere repre- sented in the Scriptures ; and they admit, consequently, of being minutely examined and applied. The best Robe points to the Redeemer's righteousness which the believer puts on, and wherein he is justified ; the Ring is the signet of a king, the seal of the Spirit in the regeneration ; the Shoes suggest that the sinner, forgiven and renewed, shall walk with God in newness of life ; the Feast indicates the joy of a forgiving God over a forgiven man, and the joy of a forgiven man in a forgiving God. These two lessons Christ has tenderly and plainly taught in this parable, — first, that God receives and for- gives a sinner who comes back repenting; and second, that he delights in the act of so forgiving repentant sin- ners : on these points no ambiguity is left, and no room for controversy. These features of our Father's character, if they were fully perceived and frankly accepted, would soon change the face of the world. Guilt makes the guilty suspicious and distrustful. For the chief ailment of humanity the parable supplies a specific antidote : let the aspect of God's character, which is here displayed, take possession of a sinful heart, and it is forthwith won. A young person is in want of employment ; and a great man lives in the neighbourhood who could give him both work and wages. To this man the youth is advised in his distress to apply; but this is the man whom the youth has injured and offended, — the man whose just resentment he dreads. But it is known and reported that this pos- THE PRODIGAL SON. 44J sessor of great wealth is kind, generous, forgiving ; that he does not retain resentment for injuries received ; that he delights to bestow favour on those who have offended him. Convinced by these representations, the youth de- termines to venture, and accordingly sets out on his journey toward the great man's house. As he approaches it, however, his limbs grow feeble, his heart beats high, and he lacks courage to go near and knock. He halts, and is about to turn back in despair. What would suffice to encourage the trembler at that moment, and bear him through ? If then and there he could in any way be thoroughly convinced that the man whom he formerly injured, and therefore now dreads, is not only in general tender-hearted and open-handed, but is at that moment specifically thinking of this individual transgressor, griev- ing over his impenitence, watching from his window for his coming, yearning to receive his confession, and enjoy the blessedness in his own heart of forgiving and satisfy- ing the penitent ; this will be effectual ; the youth will go forward to the door now with a firm step. It is such a conviction regarding the mind of God to- wards erring men that is needed, in order to bring them in clouds to his mercy-seat, like doves to their windows ; and it is in order to work this conviction in our hearts that Jesus, who has authority to declare the Father, has given us the parable of the Prodigal Son. May the Spirit take this word, and make it in us quick and powerful. Here we are not left to deal with curious or doubtful speculation. Nothing in heaven or earth can be truer, surer, plainer than this. The view that Jesus gives is the true view of the Father, as he turns his face to-day toward the children of men. Here is a youth who has discovered suddenly that a 442 THE PRODIGAL SON. disease has fatally stricken him, deep in the springs of life. After struggling some days against conviction, and clinging to false hopes, he has at length acknowledged that sentence of death has been passed. When the first tumult subsides, a species of calm succeeds, — the calm of earnest occupation with one over-riding and absorbing theme. The world, with its hopes and fears, is conclu- sively cut off : his business with time is closed. He has bidden farewell to the crowd that he has left behind, and has entered the solemn vestibule which at the other end opens on eternity. With all the energy of his being, he applies himself now to the question, Am I lost or saved ? He looks alternately backward on his own life, and up- ward to God's throne ; both prospects trouble him. Back- ward he sees only sin; forward, only judgment. Himself seems the stubble, and the Judge a consuming fire. As these two approach, and their meeting seems near, he fears with an exceeding great fear, and cries with an ex- ceeding bitter cry. He greatly wonders, meanwhile, that he never saw things in this light before. Now, in man's extremity, is God's opportunity to show him the Father. While the eyes of the body are closed in weariness, the mental vision remains active ; and a picture appears, as if it were hung in light upon the wall. To the soul's eye Christ appears, and appears in the act of revealing the Father. The Father whom Christ reveals runs forth to meet his prodigal son, falls on his neck, weeps, and kisses him. There is no upbraiding, no bargaining for terms. The returning son is forgiven, accepted, clothed, honoured, loved. He has all, and abounds. This is doubtless a true picture, the dying youth reflects, for it is Christ that displays it ; but, alas, it brings no hope to me. I have THE PRODIGAL SON. 443 stifled convictions, and lived for my own pleasure; and though I often heard of mercy, I never sought it, until I found that death was on my track. How can I expect •that God should receive me, when I make him a do-no- better, for I never thought of seeking him until all my chosen idols had forsaken me, and I was left destitute ? Brother, look; what good thing was in the lost son, that served to recommend him to his father ? He would not remain at home; he could not enjoy his abundance as long as the father, whose face he loathed, abode under the same roof. He went away, that he might enjoy the pleasures of sin. He did not return while he had enough ; he did not return when he began to be in want; he en- dured the extreme of misery and shame rather than re- turn ; he came back to his father only when all other resources failed; — and yet his father received him with great gladness. Sinner, look on this love, — look on it till you live in its light. It is not him that never departed, or came back while he yet had plenty, or came back soon, or came back with an improved heart, — it is, " Him that cometh I will in no wise cast out." Those who from this parable conclude that God re- ceives sinners into favour without a propitiation, and those who endeavour to escape from that conclusion by affirming that the father in the parable represents Christ, err equally, although on opposite sides.* * Stier's observations on this point are excellent: — " The well-meaning efforts which are made to explain the absence of reference to the mediating propitiation of the Son of God in this instant exhibition of the Fathers mercy, are altogether needless ; they rest fundamentally on false dogmatic views of this propitiation, as if there were not existing in the Father's being the same love which is expressed in the Son,— as if the Father needed abstractly to be propitiated in order to entertain this love ! We are not to seek Ckrisl himself as mediator in the person of this father; nor (though Melanc- thon has strangely ventured to affirm it), afterwards in the fatted calf, as 444 THE PRODIGAL SON. The notion that a mediator is not needed, because a mediator is not here specifically represented, proceeds upon the assumption, obviously and inexcusably erron- eous, that all truth must be taught in every parable.. While occasionally visiting the printing works of the publishers as these sheets are passing through the press, I have observed the process of printing coloured land- scapes by lithograph. One stone by one impression de- posits the outline of the land ; another stone, by another impression, fills in the sea ; and a third stone, on a differ- ent machine, subsequently adds the sky to the picture. No observer is so foolish as to complain, while he sees the process in its earlier stages, that there is no sea or no sky in the landscape. It is thus with the parables in general, and with this group in particular. By the two first, certain portions and aspects of the scene are repre- sented ; and by the last one, when it is impressed on the same field, the remaining features are completed. Hitherto we have been occupied exclusively with the younger of the two sons ; but the notice given in the first sacrificially slain. His place here is rather to be sought in his thus autho- ritatively testifying of the Father's mercy. As Nitzsch excellently says : — ' If he seems to conceal himself here, he is all the more manifest there, where the Shepherd seeks the lost sheep. For the Son — who is neither an elder nor a younger, the eternal Son of the Father, one with him, his eye and his heart towards the lost — is come into this world, although invisible and unnamed in the parable, to reveal the Father where he had been ever invisible, and where no man knew him : and he is to the children of the law and the curse, not only a living herald of the propitiable — we shall rather say of the already propitiated — Father, but the (that is our) propitiation itself, and the way whereby every one of us may come back to God.' The mediation of Christ is no more denied by this silence than the seduction of Satan was denied in the sinner's apostasy at the beginning of the parable. We may also say with Von Gerlach that the ' coming out of the father to meet his son, here figuratively exhibits the sending of the Son.' "—Stiei in lac. THE PROpiGAL SON. 445 sentence of the parable prepares us for meeting with the elder in some significant capacity ere it close ; and here, accordingly, he comes up to sustain his part. At the moment of the prodigal's return, his elder brother was in the field, whether for his father's profit or his own pleasure we are not informed. When he came home in the evening, and before he had entered the house, he heard the sound of the festival within. Surprised and displeased that a feast on so large a scale should have been instituted without his privity and participation, he assumed and maintained an attitude of haughty re- serve. Instead of going in at once and seeing all with his own eyes as a son, he went to a servant, and in the spirit of an alien, inquired the reason of the mirth. Hav- ing learned the leading facts, instead of imitating his father's generosity, he abandoned himself to selfish jea- lousy, and went away in a pet. The father, on every side true to his character, came out and pleaded with him to enter and share the common joy. Hereupon the true character of the soi-disant model son is revealed ; he peevishly casts it in his father's face, as a reproach, that he had never provided such a feast for his immaculate and superlatively dutiful child. The elder son, in his statement of the case, introduces an elaborately constructed double contrast between his brother's experience and his own, which is peculiarly interesting in relation to the mercy of God and the methods of the Gospel. To the jaundiced eye of this sour-tempered pharisaic youth, it seemed that his father gave much to him that deserved least, and little to him that deserved most : to the profligate son, the fatted calf; to the eminently dutiful child, not even a kid. Here the hard, self-satisfied formalist, like Pilate and Caiaphas, 446 THE PRODIGAL SON. preaches the Christ whom he did not know. The envious contrast portrayed by the elder son is a dark shadow which takes its shape from the Light of life. It is a law of the Gospel that nothing is given to the man in reward for the righteousness which he brings forward as his boast ; but all is given to the man who has flung away his own righteousness with loathing as filthy rags, and come, " wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked," to cast himself on the mercy of God. The greatest gift is bestowed on the most worthless; for " God commendeth his love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us" (Rom. v. 8). At this point the line of our parable touches that of the lost sheep, and thenceforth runs coincident with it to the close : it points to the same features of human cha- racter, and teaches the same principles of divine truth. In the first place, it repeats the answer already given in the two preceding parables to the question embodied in the complaint of the Pharisees, — " This man receiveth sinners and eateth with them." The father announces with great clearness and fulness, the grounds on which he rejoiced more that day over the prodigal restored than over the elder son, who had never left home. It is a rule in human experience, universally understood and appreciated, that though a son never lost is as precious as one who has been lost and found, parents experience a more vivid joy in the act of receiving the exile back than in the continuous possession of a son who has been always in their sight* * This law may be illustrated by an analagous fact in the material depart- ment of creation. Lay a ball, such as a boy's marble, on an extended sheet of thin paper, and the paper, though fixed at the edges and unsupported in the midst, will bear easily the weight : take now another ball of the same THE PRODIGAL SON. 447 In the meantime, it is very sweet to learn from the lips of Jesus that this law, which may be clearly traced on earth, penetrates to heaven, and there prepares for re- penting sinners, not a bare escape from wrath, but an abundant entrance into the joy of their Lord. But while the parable thus demonstrates that even though the claim of the Pharisees were granted their objection falls to the ground, it most certainly does not grant that claim. So far from conceding that they needed no repentance, the Lord makes it evident that they kept company with the publicans in sin, and only differed in this, that they did not repent and forsake it. The elder brother, towards the close of the parable, pre- sents a life-likeness of the Pharisees ; in him they might have seen their own shadow on the wall. The self-righteousness, the pride, the peevishness, the jealousy of the elder brother in the close of the parable represent, in its most distinctive features, the character of the Jewish people and their leaders, in the beginning of the Gospel. One of their leading reasons for refusing to own Jesus as the Messiah was his manifested willing- ness to extend the blessings of redemption to the needy of every condition and every name. When the Lord reminded them that Elijah was sent past many suffering widows in Israel to relieve a stranger at Sarepta, and that Elisha left many lepers uncured among his own countrymen when he healed the Syrian soldier, they were so exaspe- shape and weight, and let it drop upon the sheet of paper from a height, it will go sheer through. The two balls are of the same weight and figure ; but the motion gave to one a momentum tenfold greater than that of the other at rest. It is in a similar way that the return of a lost son goes through a loving father's heart, and makes all its affections thrill ; while the continued possession of another son, equally valuable and equally valued, produces no such commotion either in the heart of the father or his home. 448 THE PRODIGAL SON. rated by the suggestion that God's favour had already flowed out to the Gentiles, and might flow in the same direction again, that they " rose up and thrust him out of the city, and led him unto the brow of the hill whereon their city was built, that they might cast him down head- long" (Luke iv. 29). The same spirit burst forth when they were touched on the same tender point in the ministry of the apostles. Paul was permitted from the stairs of the fortress attached to the temple at Jerusalem to address an excited multitude on the faith as it is in Jesus. Loving the Hebrew tongue in which he spoke better than the Greek, which they had expected him to employ, they listened with interest and in silence to the story of his conversion through the appearing of the risen Jesus ; but when in the progress of the narrative he found it necessary to inform them that the Lord his Saviour gave him a commission to preach the Gospel beyond the boundaries of Israel, saying, "Depart, for I will send thee far hence unto the Gentiles, they gave him audience unto this word, and then lifted up their voices and said, Away with such a fellow from the earth, for it is not fit that he should live " (Acts xxii. 21, 22). In this invete- rate prejudice of the Pharisaic Jews against the admission of persons or communities other than themselves into the privileges of Messiah's kingdom, we see the reason why the Lord gave his parable the turn which it takes in the extraordinary conduct of the elder brother. Count- ing that the kingdom belonged exclusively to themselves, the Jewish hierarchs violently resented every suggestion that pointed to the reception of strangers. It was to them that this series of parables was addressed ; and to them, in immediate relation to their stupid and impudent cry, " He receiveth sinners ! " THE PRODIGAL SON. 449 But we have not exhausted this portion of the lesson when we have pointed out that those whom the elder brother represents fret proudly and peevishly against the admission of their neighbours into the kingdom : by that very fact they unconsciously but surely demonstrate that themselves have not entered yet. The spirit that in regard to self is satisfied, before God unhumbled, and towards men unloving, has no part with Christ: this is the proud whom God knoweth afar off, not the meek whom he delights to honour. Ah, woe to the man who serves God as that son served his father, with a mercenary mind and an unbroken heart,, — who thinks his obedience praiseworthy, and would be surprised if it should go without reward. The elder son was lost as well as the younger ; but as far as the parable reveals his history, he was not like him found again : he, like his brother, went astray ; but unlike him, refused to come back. The father was grieved as much by the sullen, dry, hard, cold, dead formality of his elder son, as by the prodigal wastefulness of the younger, without getting the sorrow balanced by a subsequent joy. Whited sepulchre ! what will thy residence in the house, and thy constant and punctilious profession avail thee while thou art planting daggers in thy father's heart, and nursing vile hypocrisy in thy own ? It is the empty open vessel that gets itself filled when it is plunged into a well of living water ; the vessel that is full and shut, although it is overflowed by rivers of privileges, does not receive and retain a drop. Before God and under the Gospel, the turning-point of each man's destiny is not the number or the aggravation of his sins, but the discovery of his own guilt, and the consequent cry out of the depths for mercy. That which really in the last resort hinders a man's sal- «»> 23 45° THE PRODIGAL SON, vation and secures his doom is not his sin, but his refusal to know and own that he is a sinner. All the excesses of the prodigal will not shut him out of heaven, for he came repenting to the father; but all the virtues of the elder brother will not let him into heaven, for he cherished pride in his heart, and taunted his father for overlooking his worth. The ground on which the Lao- diceans were condemned was not the sinfulness of their state, but their stolid satisfaction with the state they were in. " Because thou sayest, I am rich and increased with goods, and have need of nothing ; and knowest not that thou art wretched and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked" (Rev. iii. 17). What although they were not rich ; — if they had known their poverty, all the treasures of the Godhead were at their disposal : what although they were wretched ; — all the blessings that are at God's right hand were theirs for the asking. What although this son was prodigal ; — there is a place for him in God's favour, — a place for him in the mansions of the Father's house for ever when he comes back repenting, confiding ; but what although he never strayed — never missed a diet of worship or a deed of alms, the elder brother by holding to his own righteousness, rejects the righteousness which is of God by faith, and shuts himself out of the kingdom. Him who thought he was poor and miserable, and wretched, and blind, and naked, the father runs to meet with kisses of love and tears of joy : but him who thought himself rich and increased with goods, and in need of nothing, the father puts away, with the most piercing expressions of loathing which the whole Scriptures contain, " I will spue thee out of my mouth." XXV. THE PRUDENT STEWARD. 11 And he said also unto his disciples, There was a certain rich man, which had a steward ; and the same was accused unto him that he had wasted his goods. And he called him, and said unto him, How is it that I hear this of thee? give an account of thy stewardship ; for thou mayest be no longer steward. Then the steward said within himself, What shall I do? for my lord taketh away from me the stewardship: I can- not dig; to beg I am ashamed. I am resolved what to do, that, when I am put out of the stewardship, they may receive me into their houses. So he called every one of his lord's debtors unto him, and said unto the first, How much owest thou unto my lord ? And he said, An hundred measures of oil. And he said unto him, Take thy bill, and sit down quickly, and write fifty. Then said he to another, And how much owest thou? And he said, An hundred measures of wheat. And he said unto him, Take thy bill, and write fourscore. And the lord commended the unjust steward, because he had done wisely : for the children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light. And I say unto you, Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness ; that, when ye fail, they may receive you into ever- lasting habitations." — Luke xvi. i-g. jN the face of this parable a difficulty presents itself, all the more formidable in that it lies not in the critical, but in the moral depart- ment. In almost all the other examples, the acts attributed to human agents are either morally blame- less in themselves, or are manifestly exhibited in order to be condemned : but here, an element of injustice is inseparably mixed up with the prudence which is com- mended in the conduct of the steward. The difficulty lies in this, that the specimen of worldly prudence pre- sented in order to suggest and stimulate spiritual pru- dence in securing the interests of the soul, is dyed through and through with the loathsome vice of dishonesty. It 4 S 2 THE PR UDENT STE WARD. is not easy, at least for us, to gather the lesson which this man's prudence contained, out of the dishonesty in which in was steeped. When we read the parable we may detect a feeling of surprise creeping over our minds, that the Lord, who had the whole world and its history before him whence to select his examples, should have chosen a specimen of worldly wisdom, damaged by an admixture of downright falsehood, in order to stimulate thereby the spiritual zeal of his own disciples. The three following observations will, in my judgment, explain and completely remove the difficulty : — (i.) The Holy One, precisely because he is perfectly holy, can come closer to the unholy than we who are infected with sin and susceptible of injury from contact with impurity. Jesus talked with the Samaritan at the well, and permitted the sinner to wash his feet with tears in Simon's house. His own disciples and the Pharisees wondered by turns why he came so close to the unclean ; but if they had been free from sin as he was, they could have handled it freely when in their ordinary ministry it crossed their path. Inflammable matter must be kept far from fire ; whereas matter that is incom- bustible may, when a necessary cause occurs, safely pass through the midst of the flame. (2.) A shorter parable in another place presents and explains the same diffi- culty : " Be ye wise as serpents, and harmless as doves." Serpents are proposed to the disciples as examples to be imitated ; but it is the wisdom only and not the hurtful- ness of the serpent that their Master enjoins them to imi- tate, Foresight and dishonesty are not more closely or inseparably united in the character of the cunning steward than wisdom and hurtfulness in the nature of the serpent. In both alike the Master meant that one THE PRUDENT STEWARD. 453 quality which is commendable should be selected for imitation, and the other quality which is vile should be cast away with loathing. (3.) The key-note of the par- able is expressed in verse 8 : " The children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light." The line of interpretation must be drawn through this point, and all the scattered features of the picture brought up or brought down to meet it. Thus the tinge of dis- honesty that runs through the prudence of the steward, so far from rendering his case unsuitable for the purpose of the Lord, imparted to it additional appropriateness and point. The methods, as well as the ends of the worldly, were different from those of the spiritual. This example shows that, from the ungodly man's own view- point, and according to his own maxims, he prosecutes his object with energy and skill. Let the Christian, with his clearer, purer light, prosecute his high aim by holy means with an energy and zeal similar to those which the ungodly exhibit in the pursuit of their gains or plea- sures. It was the design of the Lord not simply to give his disciples generally an example of wisdom, but to give them specifically an example of the wisdom of the world — the wisdom that neither fears God nor regards man. An example of prudence taken from a good man's his- tory, and exercised under submission to the law of God, would not have suited the Master's purpose so well as the one that has been chosen. It is important to notice at the outset, that in this in- stance the Lord addresses his instructions specifically to his own disciples. The three parables which are recorded in the preceding chapter were spoken to the Pharisees ; immediately after these, and in continuation of the history, the evangelist intimates that "he said also unto his dis- 454 THE PRUDENT STEWARD. ciples, There was a certain rich man," &c. Besides those lessons which he gave to the multitude, teaching how the distant may come near, he gave this lesson to those who had already come near, in order to incite them to dili- gence in the course which they had chosen : this Teacher rightly divides the word of truth, giving to each his portion in due season. In this lesson the diligence of worldly men is employed to rebuke the slothfulness of Christians. Those who make perishing things their portion are thoughtful, inventive, energetic, decisive in prosecuting their object ; how thoughtless and slow are the heirs of the kingdom in the work of their high calling ! " A certain rich man had a steward." We learn here, incidentally, how evenly balanced are the various condi- tions of life in a community, and how little of substantial advantage wealth can confer on its possessor. As your property increases, your personal control over it dimi- nishes ; the more you possess, the more you must en- trust to others. Those who do their own work are not troubled with disobedient servants ; those who look after their own affairs, are not troubled with unfaithful over- seers.* This overseer cheated his master, and concealed the fraud for a time under the folds of complicated accounts J but, as in all similar cases, this career of wickedness came suddenly to an end. Some person discovered the facts and informed the proprietor. When suspicion was raised inquiry could not be resisted ; and, when an inquiry was * A case came up lately in an English court of justice, in which a certain duke prosecuted his butler for malversation in his charge. It appeared in evi- dence that the defalcation on the account for wine alone amounted to L. 1500. This fact incidentally reveals two things : — How great is the wealth of these British princes ; and how little that wealth is under their own control. THE PRUDENT STEWARD. 455 instituted, the crime could not be hid. The steward seems to have given up his case as soon as he was accused ; he uttered not a word in his own defence. There was no proof on one side, and no denial on the other. The case was clear, and the process summary ; sentence of dismissal was pronounced on the spot. But the proprietor was still in a great measure at the mercy of this unfaithful servant ; the accounts were all in his hand, and the owner could not instantly resume the power which he had delegated. The agent accordingly was ordered to prepare and submit a balance-sheet, on which his successor might proceed to administer the estate. There was not much time for deliberation : the decree of dismissal had already passed, and as soon as the state of accounts could be made up, this once comfortable and important personage must be cast penniless upon the world. Now or never, he must do something for him- self. With habits, both mental and physical, cast in another mould, he cannot win his bread as a labourer ; and his pride revolted against the prospect of becoming a beggar on the spot where he had long been owned as master by the multitude. His resolution is quickly formed, and as quickly carried into effect. He will em- ploy his present opportunity, so as to provide a refuge for himself in his future need : he will so deal with the money while it is still in his hand, as that he shall not be left destitute when he is driven from his place. In prosecution of his purpose, the steward summoned his master's debtors one by one into his presence. He held their acknowledgments for goods received, or their signatures for the amount of rent which they had agreed to pay for their lands. Having in his hands the docu- 456 THE PRtJDENT STEWARD. merits which bound the debtors, he might have read off from these the amount due by each ; but it suited his purpose better to ask the obligants what sums they owed, and to proceed wholly upon their voluntary acknowledg- ments. The first owed a hundred measures of oil, the second a hundred measures of wheat. What these quan- tities may have been in relation to our standards is a question which possesses only a critical and antiquarian interest : it has no bearing on the interpretation of the parable, and therefore we pass it without further notice. The absolute amount of the debt has no influence on the meaning of the parable ; the point which is really im- portant is the proportion between the amount owned by the debtors and the amount exacted by the steward. Olive oil and wheat were two of the staple products of the country, and the obligations in regard to them may have been incurred either in transactions of a mercantile character, or in those which intervene between landlord and tenant.* The method of the overseer is short and simple : apart from considerations of morality, conscience, and divine retribution, it seemed a short road to the accomplishment of his purpose. He surrendered to the debtors their obligations, and received in return obligations for smaller amounts, in one case for fifty, and in another for eighty, instead of a hundred. These two cases are submitted as specimens : others were treated in a similar way. Of course the steward could not obtain from these debtors any obligation in his own favour for the portion remitted, which could be enforced in a court of justice ; for the proof of the claim on the one side would have revealed * Probably the rents were paid in kind, and these were the arrears which the tenants acknowledged, THE PRUDENT STEWARD. 457 his guilt on the other : but it was assumed between the parties that the benefit conferred should in due time be substantially acknowledged and repaid. The steward counted that in the day of his distress those men on whom he had conferred favours would receive him into their houses.* It was expected, moreover, that the proprietor, or the steward whom he might afterwards employ, could not exact more than the smaller sums, for which they pos- sessed the acknowledgments of the parties. We could indeed conceive a case in which the injured owner could lead a proof of fraud in the transaction, and enforce from the obligants the original amounts ; but it is not probable that, in an age when records were defective, and the two parties immediately connected with the fraudulent trans- action deeply interested in concealing it, such a suit could be successfully carried through. T The lord, that is the injured proprietor, commended the unjust steward, because, or in that, he had done wisely. The difficulty here lies on the surface,— lies, as it were, in the sound ; upon a close examination it vanishes. First of all, the lord who praised the steward is, as the translators have indicated by printing the word without a capital, not the Lord Jesus, the speaker of the parable, * Of the same nature were the long leases of ecclesiastical property in England at low rents, granted by the living incumbents, in consideration of a sum of money in name of fine paid to themselves. t A case emerged lately in the courts of this country, in which a pro- prietor, who had lost very large sums by the unfaithfulness of his agent, prosecuted the parties for restitution, on the ground of the agent's bad faith in the transactions. The case was protracted, and I lost sight of it before the solution was reached ; but it is enough for my present purpose that a plea was actually raised to obtain from one debtor the price of a hundred measures of oil instead of fifty, which he acknowledged, on the alleged ground that the absconded steward had corruptly and for his own interest sacrificed the rights of his employer. .458 THE PRUDENT STEWARD. but the master, whom the cunning agent had robbed, Further, this praise obviously did not indicate moral approval. The master praised the servant when all was over, not for the faithfulness with which he had been served, but for the cleverness with which he had been cheated. The commendation which the master be- stowed upon the servant was that of sharply looking after himself. It is the commendation which one whose house has been robbed during the night might bestow in the morning upon the robber, after noticing how adroitly he had opened the locks, and carried off the booty. This nefarious transaction was, from the perpetrator's view-point, cleverly planned and promptly executed. It was no sooner said than done ; delay might have ruined the steward's prospects. He, must have everything done before he is summoned actually to transfer his books to his successor's hands. He provided in his own way for his own future need ; the plan was well-contrived, and successfully carried into effect This praise, but expressly and only this, the injured master bestowed upon the man. " And I say unto you, Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness ; that when ye fail, they may receive you into everlasting habitations." Such is the lesson which the Lord draws from the picture. Difficulties, indeed, adhere to the phraseology in its details ; but the interpretation, in its main line, is de- termined and made evident by landmarks which can neither be overlooked nor removed. The mammon of unrighteousness means the world with all its busi- ness and its possessions ; mammon is denominated unrighteous, generally on account of the manner in which it is employed by worldly men, and specially on account THE PRUDENT STEWARD. 459 of the case in hand, where a gross injustice was perpre- trated without scruple, and as an ordinary matter of business. Alas, how prevalent is this form of unrighteous- ness still ! Although justice in a large measure pervades and so sustains the vast commerce of the country, many mean tricks insinuate themselves between its mighty strata, corroding its fabric, and undermining its strength. In counselling the disciples to acquire for themselves friends from the mammon of unrighteousness (iroirja-aTe eavrois (piXovs bk tov /j.a/jLa>va tw aSucias), the Lord obviously adopts the terms of his spiritual lesson from the structure of the parable which conveys it. By re- mitting part of their debts the steward made the debtors his friends ; he won them to his side, and made sure of their sympathy when his day of need should come. His prudence and skill were commendable, but the fraud which was mingled with them is neither approved by the Lord, nor prescribed as a pattern for the disciples.* Nor is it difficult to lift the pure lesson from the impure ground on which it lies. The steward could not reach his unrighteous object except by a crooked path ; but the ends which a Christian strives to attain neither require nor admit the employment of falsehood. Use the world in such a way that it shall help and not hinder the interests of your soul and of the world to come. The position of the phrase, eis Tyv jeveav Ttjv eavronv, in or for their own generation, near the end of the sen- tence, determines that it is applied equally to both * The Emperor Julian adduced this parable in order to prove that the doctrines of Christ were adverse to good morals. This is precisely the place where the apostate, seeking reasons to justify his apostasy, will most readily find what he seeks. 460 THE PRUDENT STEWARD. parties. It is implied that both classes, the children of the world and the children of light, look after their own affairs ; and it is intimated that the one class attends to its business more earnestly and more skilfully than the other. This man cleaves to the world as his portion, and that man has chosen the Saviour as his : but, in point of fact, he who has chosen the inferior object prosecutes it with the greater zeal. The superior energy of the world- ling in the acquisition of gains is employed to rebuke the Christian for his slackness in winning the true riches. This is the main lesson of the parable. The specific form which the lesson assumes is, — Provide now for future need, and make the opportunities of time subservient to the interests of eternity. The characteristic features of the steward's skill were, that when his dismissal was near, he occupied the short time that remained, and the resources still at his disposal, in skilfully providing for the future. We are stewards in possession still, but under warning ; do we employ the time and the opportunities that remain in making our calling and election sure ? Many precious possessions have been placed in our hands by the owner of all ; health of body and sound- ness of mind ; home and friends ; good name or great riches, or both conjoined ; — these and many others have been by their owner placed under our charge, that we should lay them out for him. Soon the stewardship will be taken from us. "When ye fail," — that is, when we can no longer retain our hold of time and life ; when flesh and heart are failing ; when a mist comes over the eye, so that it can no longer see the circle of weeping friends that stand round the bed of death, — havewe an ever- lasting habitation ready to receive the departing spirit ? THE PR UDENT STE WARD. 46 » More particularly the practical question is, Have we disposed of earthly possessions and opportunities, so that they helped and did not hinder the acquisition of an incorruptible inheritance ? There is a place and a use for temporal things in mak- ing sure of the life eternal. How constant has been the tendency of fallen humanity to run wildly into opposite extremes of error ; because the Popish system gives worldly possessions too high a place in the concerns of the soul, we may readily fall into the error of giving them no place at all. We lean hard over against the super- stition that expects by alms, and money paid for masses, to smooth the spirit's path to peace beyond the grave ; but when we have refused to make money directly the price of our admission into heaven, we have not exhausted our duty in regard to its bearing on our eternal weal. The property, and money, and occupations of time may instrumentally affect for good or evil our efforts to lay up the true riches. According as they are employed, they may become a stumbling-stone over which their possessor shall fall, or a shield to cover his head from some fiery darts of the wicked one.* Could it be truly said of any who are lost that the * For example, their competence and the comforts which it brings shield women of the higher and middle classes in this country, in a great measure, from certain snares of the devil in which multitudes of their poorer sisters miserably fall If those who enjoy this protection throw away their ad- vantage by turning that which is a protection on one side into a temptation on the other, and so bring themselves to an equality over all with the less favoured classes, the fault is their own. It is proved by obvious facts that worldly possessions may be placed between you and temptation, as cotton bales and sand bags may be employed to ward off cannon shot from stone walls. They are capable of being turned to some account in advancing our eternal interests ; for our inheritance in heaven, the world is useful, if it is rightly used. 46z THE PRUDENT STEWARD. mammon of unrighteousness brought them to the place of woe ? or, conversely could it be truly said of any who now stand round the throne in white, that the mammon of unrighteousness became the friend who introduced them to that everlasting habitation ? I reply, this mammon is not and cannot be a cause either of being saved of being lost ; but it, as well as all other things in time, may become instruments in the saving or destroying of a soul, according as it is wisely used or foolishly abused. For example, in the next parable; it was sin and not wealth that ruined the rich man; many richer men than he have walked with God on earth, and entered rest when they departed. Wealth was not his destroyer, yet he so used his wealth as to permit the wicked one to bind his soul with it as with chains over to the second death. On the other hand, it was neither the poverty nor the sores of Lazarus, nor both together, that saved him ; many as destitute of money and as full of sores as he are never saved. Christ was this man's Saviour, — Christ alone ; yet, his poverty became in God's hands, and through his ser- vant's faith, the instrument of shielding him from tempta- tion and purging his dross away. In the same subordi- nate and instrumental sense in which the rich man's wealth was his ruin, the poverty of the poor man saved him. But these results are not uniform — are not necessary ; they may be— they often are reversed. The wealth of a rich man may help him heavenward, and the poverty of a poor man may press him down toward the pit. The cardinal point of the parable is, employ the mammon of unrighteousness— this world's affairs all, with forethought, skill, decision, and energy, to further your own salvation; turn all to account for the gain of godliness. A ship leaves our shores bound westward to an THE PRUDENT STEWARD. 463 Atlantic, port : the wind, being from the north, beats on her right side all the way. She makes a quick voyage and reaches her destination in safety. Another ship at another time leaves these shores for the same destina- tion : the wind, blowing from the south, beats on her left side. She wanders from her course and is shipwrecked. Whence these opposite results ? Was the first ship saved because she met a north wind, and the second lost be^ cause she fell in with a wind from the south ? Nay, verily : but because the one so received the wind, from whatever point of the compass it might blow, as to be impelled by it onward in her course : and the other, instead of wisely employing every wind to help her for- ward, allowed herself to drift before the wind that hap- pened to blow. Mammon, the world — ah, is it not adverse to the inte- rests of our souls ? What then ? Believer, adversary though it be, you may make it your friend. A skilful seaman, when once fairly out to sea, can make a wind from the west carry him westward ! he can make the wind that blows right in his face bear him onward to the very point from which it blows. When he arrives at home, he is able to say the wind from the west impelled me westward, and led me into my desired haven. Thus if we were skilful, and watchful, and earnest, we might make the unrighteous mammon our friend ; we might so turn our side to each of its tortuous impulses, that willing or unwilling, conscious or unconscious, it should from day to day drive us nearer home. The parable is in this peculiar, that in the moral lesson which the Master enforces at the close, he retains and employs the phraseology of the story. " Make to your- selves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness," &c 464 THE PRUDENT STEWARD. The meaning is by the context made plain, and the reader may translate the metaphor as he proceeds. The steward, while he remained in his place, so handled the property in his power as to secure for himself a home when he should be removed from his place : in like manner let men so use material possessions while they live on earth, that these very possessions shall be found to have helped them toward their eternal rest. When a man's ways please God, he maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him. These things that are enemies, and that overcome many, you may make your friends ; you may turn to them such a side, that every time they strike they shall press you nearer rest, and at their last stroke impel you through the narrow entrance into the joy of your Lord. XXVI. THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. "There was a certain rich man, which was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day : and there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, which was laid at his gate, full of sores, and desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table : moreover the dogs came and licked his sores. And it came to pass, that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom : the rich man also died and was buried. ; and in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments, and seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom. And he cried and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip oi his finger in water, and cool my tongue ; for I am tormented in this flame. But Abraham said, Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things : but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented. And beside all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed : so that they which would pass from hence to you cannot ; neither can they pass to us, that would come from thence. Then he said, I pray thee therefore, father, that thou wouidest send him to my father's house : for I have five brethren ; that he may testify unto them, lest they also come into this place of torment. Abraham saith unto him, They have Moses and the prophets ; let them hear them. And he said, Nay, father Abraham ; but if one went unto them from the dead, they will repent. And he said unto him, If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead." — Luke xvi. 19-31. jflHE intervening portion of history, contained in verses 14-18, should not be permitted to con- ceal from us the intimate relation that subsists between this and the preceding parable. The application of the first for the reproof of covetousness, touched a besetting sin of the Pharisees, and stung them to the quick. Unable to bear in silence a rebuke which their own consciences recognised as just, they interrupted the preacher with rude derision. They attempted to shield their own open sores from painful probing by tvt 30 466 THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. raising a laugh at the expense of the reprover. I suspect they reckoned without their host in this matter. This man spake with authority, and not as the scribes ; the common people heard him gladly. His speech was too divinely grave, and too palpably true, to be turned aside by the clumsy wit of the men whom it condemned. In- termitting for a moment the thread of his parabolic preaching, he turned aside and addressed a few withering words directly to these uneasy interrupters.* When this episode was over, the Lord resumed his theme where it had been broken off. I think it probable, both from the terms of the narrative, and the nature of the case, that if these Pharisees had not been present, or if they had held their peace when the preaching galled them, the matter of verse 19th would have touched that of verse 13th — the parable of the rich man and Lazarus would have been connected in place as well as in purport with that of the prudent steward. When he had followed up the first parable with a pun- gent application regarding the abuse of riches, "the Pharisees, also, who were covetous, heard all these things, and they derided him." To them, in reply to their jest- ing, he spoke the words verses 14-18, and then resumed, in verse 19th, "There was a certain rich man,'' &c.+ * From the introduction of a new subject abruptly in the 18th verse- - the much agitated question regarding a man's right to put away his wife — I think it probable that the interruption had been repeated and continued ; that it took the form of a dialogue, the Pharisees throwing in what they considered a damaging question, and Jesus giving an answer by turns — a scene which is frequently repeated in modern missions among the heathen. t Dr Trench's disquisition regarding the latent union between covetous- ness and prodigality, involving a proof that the discourse about the rich man was applicable to the Pharisees who were not of prodigal habits, although very good in itself, is scarcely relevant ; inasmuch as it is not the parable of the rich man, but the reproofs intervening between it and the unjust steward that are expressly addressed to the Pharisees. THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. 467 At the beginning of the chapter, addressing his own disciples particularly, although some of the Pharisees were present, he had {aught them from the case of the prudent steward to use the possessions of this world with a view to their bearing on the next ; and now, to complete the lesson, he will teach them, by a terrible example, the consequences of neglecting that rule. But before we proceed to examine the parable in de- tail, it is important to determine generally regarding its nature whether it is an allegory in which spiritual things are represented by sensible objects, or simplyan instructive example, historic or poetic, charged like other examples with moral warning and reproof. The parable of the sower is an allegory : the sower represents not a sower, but a preacher; the seed represents not seed, but the Gospel : whereas in the inner substance, as well as the outward form of the lesson, the good Samaritan is simply a good Samaritan, and the wounded traveller is simply a wounded traveller. The parable of the rich man and Lazarus is not allegory ; it belongs to the class of the Samaritan, and not to that of the sower. It is not like a type, which a man cannot read until it is turned ; but like a manuscript, which delivers its sense directly and at first hand.* * It is true a figurative meaning has been applied to it, as to all the rest, both in ancient and modern times. In this case the lesson, when metapho- rically rendered, possesses a remarkable measure of beauty, truth, and ap- propriateness. The rich man is the Jewish nation, by God's gift rich in position and privilege, but selfishly keeping all to itself, despising and ne- glecting others. Lazarus represents the Gentiles, spiritually poor, naked, hungry, homeless, within reach of the privileged people, yet by them left destitute. Both die : the old dispensation runs out, and Jews and Gentiles are together launched into "the last times." By apostolic messengers, the poor outcasts are now led unto the blessed privileges of the Gospel ; these stones become children of Abraham ; while the Jews, who enjoyed so good a portion in the former dispensation, are cast out. In this case, as in that 468 THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. The description of the rich man is short, but full. He " was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sump- tuously every day." He maintained a royal state and a prodigal expenditure. This excess of luxury was not confined to great occasions ; it was the habit of every day. Here, as in other cognate parables, great wisdom is displayed in bringing the whole force of the rebuke to bear on one point. It is not intimated that this man made free with other people's money, or that he had gained his fortune in a dishonest way. All other charges are removed, that the weight lying all on one point may more effectually imprint the intended lesson. To have represented him as dishonest or drunken, would have blunted the weapon's edge. Here is an affluent citizen, on whose fair fame the breath of scandal can affix no blot. He had a large portion in this world, and did not seek — did not desire any other. He spent his wealth in pleasing himself, and did not lay it out in serving God or helping man. It is not of essential importance whether such a man miserably hoard his money, or voluptuously spend it in feasts and fine clothing. Some men take more pleasure in wealth accumulated, and others more in wealth as the means of obtaining luxuries. These are two branches from one root; the difference is superficial and accidental : the essence of the evil is the same in both — a life of self- pleasing — " without God in the world." By a transition, purposely made very abrupt, we learn of the Samaritan, it is easy so to turn the polished instrument in the light, that it shall throw off bright glimpses of great evangelic facts and doctrines. Perhaps the Lord, in constructing it, kept this capability in view j but we must take the parable as in the first instance and mainly a direct moral lesson, accounting its allegorical capabilities secondary, and to us uncertain. THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. 4.6g next that a beggar named Lazarus* was laid at this rich man's gate, full of sores. Whether the position was chosen by the man himself, or by his friends for him, the motive is obvious — it was expected that where so much was expended, perhaps also wasted, some crumbs might come the beggar's way. "The dogs came and licked his sores ;" perhaps the dogs, always plentiful in eastern cities, that had no master; perhaps the dogs that belonged to the rich man, and had turned aside to lick the beggar's sores when their master rode past on the other side, and hid from the sight of misery within the drapery of his stately mansion. The act attributed to the dogs accords, as is well known, with their instincts and habits. It is soothing to the sufferer in the sensations of the moment, and healthful in its effects. When the beggar's fortunate brother took no notice of his distress, the dumb brutes did what they could to show their sympathy. The stroke, though it wears all the simplicity of nature, is in the parable due to consummate art ; the kindness of the brute brings out in deep relief the inhumanity of man. * The name of the poor man is given, while the rich man is left nameless. Generally, Christ's kingdom is not of this world, and, in particular, it does not imitate this world's kingdoms in throwing the common people into anonymous heaps, and recording the names of only the great. I saw in an extension of the parish churchyard the graves of the two hundred men who perished in the pit accident at Hartley a few years ago. They were grouped in families of two, three, four, or five, and these family groups were arranged in extended rows ; but all were nameless. Near them slept the dust of the hereditary owners of the soil under monumental marble, loaded with statuary and inscriptions. Subjects of Christ's kingdom, "it shall not be so among you." Nor is the law which obtains in the heavenly the direct reverse of that which obtains in the earthly kingdom ; it is not the poor, but the "poor in spirit," to whom the kingdom of heaven belongs. The names that are recorded in the Lamb's book of life are neither those who have nor those who lack this world's wealth, but those who are poor in spirit and rich in grace. 47° THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. "And it came to pass that the beggar died." Towards this point the narrative hastens. Here on the border is the hinge on which the lesson turns. The whole parable is constructed and spoken in order to show how this life bears on eternity ; and to make eternity, thus unveiled, bear reciprocally on the present life. The death of Lazarus happened in the ordinary course of things : his sufferings came to an end. Not a word of his dust, whether it was buried, or how. Of design, and with deep meaning, the body is left unnoticed, and the history of his soul is continued beyond the boundary of life, as the real and uninterrupted history of the man : in the same breath and in the same sentence that intimates his death, we are informed that he was carried by angels into Abra- ham's bosom. The dying and the entrance into the rest that remaineth are expressed in one sentence, the two clauses connected by a copulative conjunction : the Lord means manifestly to teach us, as he afterwards taught the repenting malefactor on the cross, that there is no interval to his people between departing from the body and being with Christ. Nor did Jesus then reveal the immortality of the soul : the doctrine was already accepted, and he assumed it in his discourse as a truth known and acknowledged. Even the resurrection of the body was a commonplace among the immediate disciples of Jesus during the period of his ministry : " Thy brother shall rise again," said the Lord to Martha. " I know that he shall rise again," she re- plied, "in the resurrection at the last day:" this was a belief that she previously possessed." Abraham's bosom, we may assume, was already an expression employed by the Jews to designate the place of the blessed beyond the grave. It accords much better THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. 47 1 with the Lord's purpose and method to suppose that this phrase and the term paradise, which he afterwards em- ployed to express the same idea, were adopted by him from the current custom, than that they were then first introduced. " The rich man also died and was buried." Here, for once, the rich and the poor meet together : the beggar died, and the rich man died too. The same event hap- pened to both, and in both cases the same terms are employed to record the events ; but very remarkable is the difference introduced immediately after the article of death. What came after death in the case of Lazarus ? He was carried by angels into Abraham's bosom. What came after death in the case of this rich man ? He was buried. Perhaps as much could not have been said of Lazarus. The rich man was carried from a sumptuous table to a sumptuous tomb ; and the poor man perhaps had not where to lay his head, when its aching had ceased at length. It may be that his body did not find a grave. His spirit found happy rest and holy company ; and we can afford therefore to lose sight of the dissolving dust. First and last the one had excellent earthly accom- modation, and the other had none ; but conversely, he who had neither a house when living nor a tomb when dead, walked with God while the tabernacle stood, and went to God when it fell ; whereas he who made the earth his portion got nothing for his portion but earth. It would be a mischievous perversion of the parable to suppose that because the one was rich he was cast out, and because the other was poor he was admitted into heaven : the true lesson is in one aspect the reverse proposition : an ungodly man is in the highest sense poor 4 7 2 THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. in spite of his wealth ; and a godly man is in the highest sense rich, in spite of his poverty. We enter now, or rather have already entered, the region where the parable must needs glide, not indeed from the literal into the metaphorical, but from a fore- ground where every object is distinctly seen to a back- ground where the real objects cannot be seen at all, and where, accordingly, only signals are thrown up to tell what is their bulk and their bearing. When the line of the instruction goes through the separating veil and expatiates in the unseen eternity, it must become dim and indistinct to our vision. The moment that the para- ble in its progress goes beyond the sphere of the present life, our effort to follow it is like the struggle of a living creature out of its element. Even when the Lord of that unseen world is our instructor, our conceptions regarding it are necessarily indirect, second hand, and obscure. In this region the capacity of the scholar is infantile, and, consequently, the ability of the teacher cannot find scope. While, therefore, those parts of the parable which lay within our sphere were direct and literal, the latter por- tion, lying beyond our sphere, is necessarily indirect and expressed by signs : consequently, though sufficiently precise in its larger leading features, it is, in its minor details, indistinct, inarticulate. " The beggar died ; " this is sufficiently direct and literal: "and was carried by angels into Abraham's bosom," — there we are already beyond our depth. The horizon is dim now, by reason of distance and intervening clouds. Equally obscure is the other line of information when it has crossed the boundary of time. The rich man died and was buried ; this we clearly comprehend : but " in hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torment."— THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. 473 these are events of the eternal world, shadowed forth in the language and according to the conceptions of the present. We perceive the direction in which they lie, and can understand the moral lesson which they contain, but the things themselves are shrouded from our intel- lectual vision in impenetrable darkness. Not perhaps intentionally in the structure of the parable, but neces- sarily, on account of the place whqre its scene is latterly laid, a veil thicker than that of allegory is wrapped around it. In accordance with the use of the word in classic Greek, and of the corresponding term in the Hebrew Scriptures, we might assume that " hell" (Hades) only indicates generally the world of spirits, as distinguished from this life in the body ; while the expression " being in torment," serves to determine the specific region or condition in that world to which the rich man was consigned : the term, however, wherever it occurs in the New Testament, seems to be applied, in point of fact, to the place of punishment, except in passages that are directly quoted from the Old Testament. Both were now in the world of spirits ; but the beggar in that world was in Abraham's bosom, and the rich man in torment. Both spirits near the same time passed from this world by the same narrow passage ; beyond the boundary their paths diverged in opposite directions. Each went to his own place as certainly and as necessarily as vapour rises up, and water flows down. The 'ransomed man entered the Father's house and joined the company of the holy ; the ungodly gravitated, according to his kind, into the place of woe. Having lifted up his eyes, " he seeth Abraham afar off and Lazarus in his bosom, and he cried and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me." Deeper and deeper into 474 THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. the mystery we are led at every step. While the outline of the landscape is denned sufficiently for the purpose ot affording a landmark to direct our course, all the lesser objects are entirely concealed by the distance. We must beware lest, in straining to get a glimpse of the invisible, we should mistake the flitting shadows that the un- natural effort sets afloat in the humours of our own eyes for the veritable objects of the spiritual world. Here I would fain arrest attention on one guiding and dominating consideration, which may become a thread to lead us safely through the labyrinth, saving us the trouble of working out difficult speculations, and averting from us the danger of injuring ourselves by falls in the dark. The Lord delivered and the evangelist recorded this parable for the purpose of teaching, warning, directing, not spirits disembodied in the other world, but men in the body here. " All things are for your sakes ; " the great Teacher determined all his words and acts by a regard to the benefit of his people. Even when Lazarus died at Bethany, he said to his followers, " I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the intent that ye might believe ; " his absence led to the resurrection of Lazarus, and that event, he foresaw, would confirm their faith. So here, his aim is not to show how much he knows of the separate state, or to astonish the world by the display of its secrets ; it is to give men while they are in the body those views of the separate state which will tell most effectually in leading the wicked to repentance, and in establishing believers in the faith. Taking the Teacher's aim as the determinating prin- ciple in the interpretation of his discourse, I gather that the dialogue between the rich man and Abraham does not describe absolutely what is possible and actually THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. 475 takes place in the world of spirits, as if it were addressed to an inhabitant of that world, but gives such pictures of it, or signs regarding it, as are intelligible to an inhabitant of this world, and as will best bring the realities of the future to bear with beneficial effect upon the present character of men. By a system of coloured lights we contrive to warn the conductors of engines on our rail- ways of danger to be avoided on the one hand, and to intimate the line of safety on the other. The things re- garding which the engineers get instruction are not within their view. A red or a white light are not like the things in the distance that are to be dreaded or desired ; but a red or a white light displayed serves the purpose when the things themselves cannot be made known. There everything is determined with a view to immediate prac- tical benefit. I think this helps me to grasp the difficult portions of the parable. The purpose of the Lord was not to display his own knowledge or gratify our curiosity. He ever acted as the Saviour of the lost ; he never swerved from that aim. It was his meat to do the Father's will, and to finish his work. In this particular case, accordingly, the object which he kept in view was not to convey to men in the body the absolute knowledge of a state, for knowing which their faculties are unfit, but to convey to them in time such shadows or signals of danger and safety as the actual state of matters in the unseen world truly suggested, and in such forms as that living men, from their view-point, and with their mixed constitution, could comprehend and appreciate. When this principle is permitted to dominate, the ex- position of the dialogue becomes comparatively both short and easy. I do not know whether the saved are within view of 476 THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. the lost in a future state, or whether any communication can pass between them ; I only know that this parabolic picture, constructed as from a view-point within the pre- sent world, is the exhibition best fitted to make the diverse conditions of the good and the evil beyond the grave effectual to warn and instruct living men in the body. If any one should curiously inquire about flame, what is its nature, and how it can hurt a spirit, I can give no information on the subject, and I can gather none from the parable. One thing I know, that this representation is a red light hung out before me, as I am rushing for- ward on the line of life — hung out to warn me of danger, and hung out by the hand of him who came to save the lost. I understand perfectly what the beacon means to me : it is my part to take the warning which it gives ; and, as to the exact state of events and capabilities in the world to come, I shall learn all when I enter it. It may be quite true that there is not a flame like that which we are accustomed to see, and not a body, previous to the resurrection, that may be burned in it. But he who gave the word is my Friend ; and he is true ; I shall trust him. He knows what I understand by a flame ; he knows how I am affected by the thought of the pain which it inflicts. Knowing all these, he has employed that word in order to apply the terrors of the Lord for my warning ; he has done all things well. The minute features of the dia- logue all serve to give point to the main conception. The request for a drop of water contributes to bring out the intensity of the suffering ; the answer of Abraham shows that, beyond the boundary of this life, there is no hope of relief. Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners — it was to this world he came ; but no Saviour goes to that other world to win back the lost THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. 477 who have permitted the day of grace to run out. Christ is the way unto the Father ; but there is no way of pass- ing from death unto life, if the passage has not been made in this present world. Interpreting the rich man's intercession for his brothers on the same principle, I do not know and cannot learn here, whether those who have passed through death into the next world unsaved, remember the character of the relatives whom they left behind on earth, or whether, remembering their condition, they will or can make inter- cession in their behalf. All that I gather certainly on the subject from this parable is, that although a brother may permit his brother to abide in sin without instruction or reproof, while all are living here and walking by sight ; yet, if the fate that awaits the impenitent were adequately believed and realized, he who believed and realized it, could not refrain from effort to arouse the slumberers, and lead them to repentance. Again, as in previous parts, I am taught here not what I shall wish when I shall be in the world of spirits, but what I should do now while I am in the body and under grace. I should get the message sent to every heedless brother who is wast- ing his day of grace, while a messenger of flesh and blood may be found, and there is a way by which I may reach the objects of my solicitude. By aid of the same machinery — the dialogue between the rich man and Abraham — another lesson is brought from the world of spirits to the land of living men — the lesson that those who refuse to believe and obey under the means of grace which God has appointed in the Church, would not be more pliable if prodigies were shown to them by way of overcoming their unbelief. The conception, although conveyed by the lips of the rich 478 THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. man after he had gone to his own place, that a miracle of power would, if it were exhibited, bring alienated hearts submissively back to God, springs native here in time. It is the deceit with which many sing them- selves to sleep — they would believe if one rose from the dead. There are two answers to it : — one is, it would not be effectual although it were granted ; and the other is, even though it were fitted to accomplish the object, it will not be given. The conclusion of the whole matter is, delays are dan- gerous ; " Now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation. Some lessons still remain, that invite our attention, and will repay it. i. For mankind, after this life is done, another world remains, consisting of two opposite spheres or conditions, one of holiness and happiness, the other of sin and misery. The Jewish people and their rulers persistently demanded of Jesus that he would show them a sign from heaven ; and this demand he as steadily refused to gratify. Unlike all false prophets, the Lord Jesus main- tained silence in regard to the particular characteristics of the unseen world ; but one thing in compassionate love he made known with abundant clearness, that there is an absolute and permanent separation between good and evil in the world to come, and that there are distinct places of rewards and punishments. Some people labour hard to shake from their own minds the belief in a place and state of retribution. To these I would affectionately suggest that to disbelieve it will not destroy it. Even in Scotland — the narrow end of an island nowhere very broad — I have met with per- sons well advanced in life, of good common education THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. 47g and good common sense, who had never seen the sea Suppose that these persons should have cause greatly to dread the sea, and should therefore ardently desire that there were no such thing in existence. Suppose further, that, in the common way of the world, the wish should become father to the thought, and that they at last should firmly believe that there is not a sea. Would their sen- timent change the state of the fact ? Sinners, to whom the name and nature of a place of punishment are dis- agreeable, have no more power to annihilate the object of their aversion than the shepherds of the Cheviots to wipe out the sea by a wish. The sea is near those men though they have never seen it ; and, if they were cast into it, they would perish, notwithstanding their opinion. Ah ! the thing which by God's appointment is, cannot by our arguments be blotted out of being. 2. There is a way from this present life to the place of future misery, and also a way to the place of future blessedness. The way from this world to the place of woe was made by man's sin ; the way from this world to the place of rest was made by the incarnation, death, and resurrection of Christ. By the one way you can glide easily down ; by the other you may climb toilsomely, but surely up. The one goes with the corrupt affections ; the other against them. But let it be remembered that the way of life, though hard, is not unhappy; the struggle, when once fairly begun, is a grand, gladsome thing. Forth from this world there are only two paths ; by one or other of these two all men take their departure ; on one or other of these two paths we all are treading now. We owe it to Christ that a way into safety has been opened for our sinful world : "lam the way no man cometh unto the Father but by me." 480 THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. 3, There is no way over from one of these future states to the other. The great gulf between them is fixed. This is the main fact of the parable, and hereon its greatest lesson grows. The great gulf is fixed, and after death none can change his place. This fact we now know with- out further revelation, and if we believe it not on the testi- mony of Jesus, neither would we believe it although one should rise from the dead to declare it. This parable, in some of its minute features, is to our vision necessarily obscure, because the scene is laid in the life to come, but its main outline is as clearly visible as any temporal object could be. It teaches with great perspicuity that when immortal spirits, at the dissolution of the body, are thrown into the eternal world, it is no longer possible that their place or their condition should be changed : those who will not learn from this word of Christ that the con- dition of the departed is for ever fixed at death will not learn it in time to profit by the lesson. 4. Our Lord has thus emphatically taught us that there is no possibility of passing from one state to another beyond the boundary of this life in order that he may thereby constrain us to make the needful transition now. The impassable gulf between the saved and the outcast in eternity is a dreadful sight ; it was the compassionate Jesus who drew aside the curtain and exposed it to view, and it was his great love that moved him to make this revelation. There is a line that crosses our path a little way forward from the spot where we stand to-day — a line that divides our time from our eternity — invisible to our eyes, but known unto God. We never know as we ad- vance what step of the journey will carry us over this line. Christ has told us that if we pass it unsaved we cannot obtain a change of condition beyond it ; and THE RICH MAN AND LAZARUS. 481 he has revealed to us this truth in order that we might be induced now to make our calling and election sure. These terrors of the Lord are displayed in order to per- suade men. There is no impassable gulf now between a sinner and the Saviour; 1 the way is open, and the per- ennial invitation resounds from the Gospel 1 , "Come unto me ; " but to those who pass from this life without having obeyed that call, there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin, n must be noticed, each in, its proper place. First of all).in order to prepare his disciples for meeting the trials that lay before, them, he warned them that offences will come, and pronounced a solemn woe on those who should cast them- in their neighbour's way. Looking to. his own— alike those who* were then in his sight, and those who should, believe on him. down to the end of the world — he calls them, tenderly, little ones, and' intimates- that it would go ill with all who should dare to hurt them UNPROFITABLE SERVANTS. 485 This, however, appears to be laid down as a basis for the lesson which he intended at that time to teach, rather than the lesson itself. Speaking expressly for the benefit of his own followers, he was more concerned to teach them how to bear injuries than to command them to beware of in- flicting injuries on others. The chief part of a Christian's duty consists in bearing well ; and when that part of his duty is successfully performed, it is more effectual in serving God and convincing men than any kind or degree of active effort. The disciple is like his Lord in this, that he conquers by suffering. Accordingly, the Teacher soon glides from the precept which forbids his people to inflict injuries, into the pre- cept which teaches how they should bear injuries inflicted by others. " Take heed to yourselves :" this is his main design : towards this he was hastening ; as a basis for this word, the previous injunction had been given. But, mark well, it is not after the manner of men that Jesus warns his disciples to take heed to themselves. He does not mean that they should be solicitous to protect them- selves from receiving injury: he leaves that to the natural instincts of self-preservation, and warns them against danger on another side, where nature supplies no defence. He does not mean, Take heed lest you suffer by the •stroke which an enemy may deal against you ; he means, Take heed lest you sin in spirit and conduct when you suffer unjustly. You suffer one injury when a neighbour treats you unfairly : and another when you proudly, im- patiently retaliate. The loss that you thus inflict on yourself is far heavier than the loss which has been inflicted by a neighbour : the little finger of the one damage is thicker than the loins of the other. After the outpouring of the Spirit at the Pentecost, we 486 UNPROFITABLE SERVANTS. find these scholars far advanced in this lesson, which their Master taught them while he remained at their head. The believers of those days had, especially in the persons of Peter and John, been cruelly persecuted by the Jewish authorities, and when they met after their suffering to pray, their petition ran : " And now, Lord, behold their threatenings : and grant unto thy servants, that with all boldness they may speak thy word " (Acts iv. 29). An injury had been inflicted : they innocently suffered ; and observe what in these circumstances they feared : not more suffering, but lest by the suffering they should be tempted to be silent or wavering when called to be wit- nesses of Christ. , Not the pain' they endured, but the right state of their own spirits under the endurance, exer- cised their minds, and stimulated their prayers. We must not suppose, however, that the Lord has com- manded his disciples to bear injuries as a clod bears blows Mere softness in yielding to the wicked, is not a Christian grace ; it is, on the contrary, a mischievous indolence : it suffers sin upon a brother : it deprives him of the benefit of reproof, and so encourages him to continue in his sin. " If thy brother trespass against thee, rebuke him ; and if he repent, forgive him." This Teacher does not obliterate the lines which separate righteousness from unrighteous- ness. He enjoins tenderness : but much as he loves to see that feature in his disciples, he places it second to faithfulness. The order of precedence as regards these two has been determined by royal ordinance — "first pure, then peaceable." " Have salt in youselves, and have peace one with another," said the Lord at another time (Mark ixi), plainly giving faithfulness the first place, and requiring that gentleness should press hard up behind Rebuke the brother who does a wrong to you ; if under UNPROFITABLE SERVANTS. 487 your reproof and the working of the truth on his con- science, he be led to repentance and confession, forgive him in your heart, and express your forgiveness, that he may be encouraged and relieved. The precept "forgive" must, from the nature of the case, refer to the articulate expression of forgiveness ; for in his heart and before God, a Christian forgives his enemy, although that enemy con- tinue obdurate. Next comes the precept, given in similar terms already in another place (Matt, xviii. 1 5-22), regarding the repeti- tion of injuries. The duty of forgiving a repenting injur er is not modified by the frequency of his sin; the form of the expression "seven times in a day," is manifestly intended to intimate that there is on that side absolutely no limit. It is not the part of a Christian to count the number of the injuries he has received, and to refuse for- giveness after a certain point; it is his part to be of a for- giving spirit, and to give forth forgiveness to all like the sunlight. The example of the Lord is the pattern for his servants ; " Love one another as I have loved you." The conception of unlimited forgiving, which in Mat- thew's narrative is expressed by " seventy times seven." is here with equal emphasis expressed by " seven times in a day." When we understand the terms as a formula for an indefinite number, we exclude the minute question, How could we believe a man sincere, who should seven times in a day do us an injury, and as often come and express sorrow for his fault ? The words should not be literally taken ; and besides if any one should trifle with his neighbour by frequent and manifestly false professions of repentance, his meaning would and should be read, not by his words, but by his conduct ; the rule would and should be understood in its spirit, and not in its letter merely. 488 UNPROFITABLE SERVANTS. Ver. 5. " And the apostles said untD the Lord, Increase our faith." An interesting and instructive view emerges here, of the relation between faith and practice. When they heard the measure of the demand which their Master made upon them in the matter of bearing and forgiving injuries, the apostles felt instantly (that tine weight was heavier than they could bear. They had not in their hearts such an amount of patience and love, as would enable them to fulfil this commandment .of the Lord. Having already learned that faith is the secret fountain whence the stream of obedience flows, they asked with ' equal simplicity and correctness that their faith might be increased. In this short prayer they assumed, first, that they already believed, asking for an addition to the faith which they already possessed ; and second, that it is more faith that will produce more obedience ; and third, that the faith which worketh iby love is not of themselves., but is the giftiof God through his Son. In all this, having been .secretly taught of ithe Spirit, these apostles are deeply intelligent, and completely correct. The appetites are generally sure guides to living creatures for the sus- tenance of their life ; and here the appetite of the new creature, points surely to the source of supply: " Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they .shall be filled." Both in the request of the scholars (ver. 5), and in the answer rof the Master (ver. 4), it is distinctly assumed as a fundamental truth in celigion, bhalt faith lies at the root of obedience. When a requisition is made upon them for an amount of meek endurance and forgiving love which their own stores ;cannot supply, they cry not directly for more power ©f .enduring and forgiving, buit for more faith which will strengthen them on this side, and on all other UNPROFrTABI^E SERVANTS. 489 sides at the same time. It is as if you had a cistern meant to supply twelve streams, running in various direc- tions, from whose lip twelve 'oomdnaits were accordingly led: and when water from one of these was suddenly wanted, you opened it but found that littfleoT none could be obtained. You cry out for a new supply to the cistern ; that -supply given will fill