'rSS'^ 
 
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 7 
 
 THE  PARABLES  OF  OUR  LORD. 
 
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 T  NELSON  AND  SONS,  LONDON,  EDINBURGH,  AND  NEW  YORK 
 
THE 
 
 PARABLES 
 
 OUR    LORDAr  ^ 
 
 of  Priiu 
 
 REV.     WILLIAM    ARNOT. 
 
 %%\^S 
 
 LONDON: 
 T.  NELSON   AND   SONS,    PATERNOSTER    ROW 
 
 EDINBURGH  ;  AND  NEW  YORK. 
 
 TS74. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 y 
 
 INTRODUCTION, 
 L    The  Sotver, 
 II.    T/ie  7  ares, 
 
 III.  T/ie  Af us  fa  ra'  Seed,  ... 
 
 IV.  The  Leaveii, 
 
 V.    The  Hidden  Treasure, 
 VI.    The  Pearl, 
 VII.    The  Draiv-Nei, 
 VIIL    T")^^  Unmerciful  Servant, 
 IX.    77^^  Vineyard  Labotircr:^ 
 
 X.    T/^^  Two  Sons, 
 XI.    Z/^^  fTiV-y^i/  Husbandmen, 
 XII.    77?^  i?(7)'a/  Martiage  Feast, 
 
 XIII.  7^>^^  7>«  F/;^/«J-,     ... 
 
 XIV.  7%<f  Entrusted  Talents, 
 XV,    77z^  6"^  Gt(nving  Secretly, 
 
 XVI.    The  Two  Debtors,     ... 
 XVII.    77^^  C^i?^  Samaritan, 
 XVIII.    77/^  Tvv^W  J/  Midnight, 
 
 Page 
 II 
 
 75 
 
 lOI 
 
 III 
 
 128 
 144 
 160 
 
 iSs 
 204 
 2-3 
 237 
 254 
 2S2 
 299 
 3,12 
 326 
 341 
 357 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XIX.    The  Rich  Fool,       ... 
 XX.    The  Ban-en  Fig-  Tree, 
 XXI.    The  Excuses, 
 XXII.    The  Lost  Sheep,     ... 
 
 XXIII.  The  Lost  Coin,      ... 
 
 XXIV.  The  ProcUgal  Son, 
 XXV.    The  Piudent  Stetvard, 
 
 XXVI.    The  Rich  Man  and  Lazaius, 
 XXVII.    Unprofitable  Servants, 
 XXVIIT.    The  Importunate  Widow, 
 XXIX.    The  Pharisee  and  the  Publican, 
 XXX.    The  Serz'ants  and  the  Pottnds, 
 
 369 
 378 
 387 
 402 
 422 
 427 
 451 
 465 
 483 
 497 
 509 
 520 
 
INTRODUCTION, 
 
 E  have  been  accustomed  to  regard  with  affec- 
 tionate veneration  the  Hfe-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 
 
r  2  INTR  OB  UCTION. 
 
 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 
 
JiVALOGV.  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  inxhaustible ; 
 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 
 
t4  LYTRODUCTIO.W 
 
 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, 
 widely  diverse  from  each  other;  but  one  Master  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 
 must  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 
 
A.VALOGV.  15 
 
 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  ^om  its  lowest  to  its  highest 
 measures  becomes  possible.     If  all  animals,  or  all  plants 
 
1 6  INTR  OD  UC  TION. 
 
 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  in 
 
J.VALOG}:  17 
 
 In  suggesting  probabilities  and  throwing  out  lines  of 
 inquiry,  analogy  is  of  unspeakable  value  in  every  branch 
 of  sdence;  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 
 .nstituted  between  them  if  the  object  for  which  the  comparison  is  made 
 aave  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. 
 (5)  2 
 
1 8  INTRODUCTION-. 
 
 might  moor  a  boat  to  a  tree  on  the  river's  brink  to  prevent 
 it  from  ghding  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  kna\vs  his  danger,  but  wishes  him  well, 
 
AXALOGY.  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.  Hovv^  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  countr)', 
 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  IXTRODUCriON. 
 
 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  generahze  and 
 classify,  must  in  the  end  be  accounted  s^ii  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  histoiy  and  doctrine  ; 
 it  is  both  history  and  doctrine — at  once  historical  doctrine  and  doctrinal 
 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, 
 ihe  parable  is  the  voice  of  the  people,  and  hence  also  the  voice  of  God.— 
 Die  Cleichniss-reden  Jesu  Chrisfi,  von  Fred.  Arndt^  vol.  i.  2. 
 
&  2  AV77?  on  UC  TIOX. 
 
 which  liavc  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;  w^iereas, 
 from  some  other  forms  of  analogy,  such  as  the  allegory, 
 the  parable  cannot  be  separated  by  a  definition  expressed 
 in  general  terms,  w^hich  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  interw^oven.  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^  ly^^^^S 
 
 *  It  is  not,  however,  by  the  universal  consent  of  critics  that  even  this  is 
 ndmitted  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.  If.  A.  Schtiltze,  de parabolar inn  J.  C.  indole poetica  co?it.  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  ndes,  tlian  adopt  such  as  separate  on  superficial  literal  grounds,  things 
 that  the  judgment  of  the  Church  and  the  common  sense  of  men  have  in  all 
 ages  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,  w'hose  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. 
 
2  4  hXTR  OD  UC  TIOX. 
 
 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 
 maybe  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,  25 
 
 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 
 tliat  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 
 
26  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  inefi"ectual  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  their 
 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  wTath  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 
 tlic  several  departments  of  our  Creator's  work  ;  and  the 
 
THE  PARABLES  OF  THE  LORD.  27 
 
 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  ol 
 dogmatics  t  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 
 
2S  .  IXTRODVCTIOX. 
 
 order,  so  that  the  sequence  of  the  subjects  shall  coincide 
 with  his  arranjjement.  This  method  is  lawful  in  re^rd 
 to  the  parables  particularly,  as  it  is  in  regard  to  the  con- 
 tents of  Scripture  generally  ;  but,  as  a  method  of  prose- 
 cuting the  inquir)',  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  bothmore  interesting  and  more  profitable  than  a 
 logical  digest  of  the  theology  which  they  contain,  however 
 faithfull)-  the  digest  may  have  been  made. 
 
 Any  one  may  obser\-e,  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  \Je parcibol.  Jesu.') 
 observes  that  the  distinction  between  parables  that  are  dogmatic  and  para- 
 bles that  arc  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 
 ilecisive  not  only  against  the  jiarticular  division  to  which  it  is  applied,  but  to 
 all  dixnsions,  in  as  far  as  they  pretend  to  be  logically  distinct  and  complete. 
 
THE  PARADLF-.S  OF  THE  LORD.  29 
 
 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  cjf  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  grou[)s  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  fir^t, 
 
3  o  INTR  on  UCTION. 
 
 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 /r^;;/  the  indolent,  and/<^^r  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  p.roud.  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.  ii-i/;  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- 
 
 *  Gerlach  in  LaJisre. 
 
THE  PARABLES  OF  THE  LORD.  3 1 
 
 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  ministr}-, 
 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  2  h\'  TROD  UC TTON. 
 
 and  resurrection;  but  this  prediction,  when  uttered  In 
 pubhc,  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  (d'ri),  tliey  see- 
 ing, see  not :  "  and  in  Mark  (iv.  12),  and  Luke  (viii.  10),  "  that  (IW)  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  em])loyed  parables,  as  one  employs  pictures  to  teach  a  child,  because 
 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,  from 
 him  shall  be  taken  away  even  that  he  hath  "  (Matt.  xiii.  12). 
 
INTERPRETATION  OF  THE  PARABLES.  l^ 
 
 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.* 
 
 I.  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  itselt.  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 
 <vhat  we  hear  and  see.  If  our  study  quicken  this  sense  within  us,  so  that  it 
 shall  grow  clearer  and  sharper  before  eveiy  picture,  a  rich  treat  awaits  us, 
 for  the  heavenly  Gallery  is  great. — Drdseke^  vom  Reich  Gottes,  i.,  270. 
 (9>  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  IXTRODUCTION. 
 
 these  things  should  be  resolutely  kept  In  their  own  place 
 They  may  be  good  servants,  but  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  efibrt  to  satisfy 
 the  judgment  of  a  studious  reader  ;  and,  on  the  other 
 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  gieat  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. 
 
 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.  XIII. 
 
 spoken  In  one  place,  because  it  can  be  proved  that  It  waa 
 spoken  at  another.  From  the  nature  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 ^'div  exhibit 
 the  Progress  of  the  kingdom  from  small  beginnings  to 
 a  glorious  issue:  the  th&d  pair  exhibit  the  Precious- 
 NESS  of  the  kingdom,  in  comparison  with  all  other 
 objects  of  desire:  and  the  remaining  ojie  teaches  that  the 
 good  and  evil  which  intermingle  on  earth  will  be  com- 
 pletely and  finally  separated  in  the  great  day.     Thus — 
 
 I.  Relations., 
 
 L 
 
 11.  Progress -{ 
 
 III.  Preciousness^ 
 
 IV  Separation 
 
 1.  T/ie  Sozver ;  the  relation  of  the 
 
 kingdom  to  different  classes  of 
 men. 
 
 2.  The  Tares ;    the  relation  of  the 
 
 kingdom  to  t/ie  wicked  one. 
 
 1.  The  Mustard-seed ;  the  progress 
 
 of  the  kingdom  under  the  idea 
 of  ^  living  growth. 
 
 2.  The  Leaveji;  the  progress  of  the 
 
 kingdom  under  the  idea  of  a 
 contagions  outspread. 
 
 1.  The  Hid  Treasure ;  the  precious- 
 
 ness  of  the  kingdom  under  the 
 i  d  ea  of  discovering  what  was  hid. 
 
 2.  The  Goodly  Pearl;  the  precious- 
 
 ness  of  the  kingdom  under  the 
 idea  of  closing  with  w'hat  is 
 offered. 
 The  Draw-net;  the  separation  be- 
 tween good  and  evil  in  the 
 great  day. 
 
40  THE  GROUP  IN  MATT.  XIIL 
 
 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  IN  MATT.   XIIL  4' 
 
 the  last  three,  were  subsequently  comniunlcated  to  a 
 oiiore  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.  Kill. 
 
 resorted  to  by  birds  of  the  air  as  if  it  had  been  a  tree,  and 
 loaded  with  their  nests,  a  representation  of  the  outward 
 Church  as  established  under  Constantine  the  Great;  in  the 
 leaven  that  is  mixed  amonfr  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 
 believing  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. 
 
I. 
 
 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.  i-g,  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  w^hich  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  Hps.  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  out- 
 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  and  laws  of 
 
^A 
 
 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  drank  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  for 
 sin;  he  also  laboured  as  a  patient  painstaking  teacher  of 
 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  (Luke  iv.  16-22)  is  a  re- 
 markably distinct  example  of  Christ   being  at  once  the 
 
50  THE  SOWER. 
 
 Sower  and  the  Seed.  When  he  had  read  the  lesson  of 
 the  day,  a  glorious  prophetic  gospel  from  Isaiah,  "he 
 closed  the  book,  and  gave  it  again  to  the  minister,  and 
 sat  down.  And  the  eyes  of  all  them  that  were  in  the 
 synagogue  were  fastened  on  him.  And  he  began  to  say 
 unto  them,  This  day  is  this  scripture  fulfilled  in  your 
 ears."  As  soon  as  he  had  taken  from  the  Scriptures 
 the  proclamation  concerning  himself,  he  laid  them  aside, 
 and  presented  himself  to  the  people.  The  Saviour 
 preached  the  Saviour,  himself  the  Sower  and  himself  the 
 Seed. 
 
 In  the  beginning  of  the  Gospel,  when  the  chosen  band 
 of  sowers  first  went  to  work  upon  the  ample  field  of  the 
 world,  taught  of  the  Spirit,  they  knew  well  what  seed 
 they  ought  to  carry,  and  were  ever  ready  to  cast  it  in 
 where  they  saw  an  opening.  One  of  them,  and  he  the 
 greatest,  formed  and  expressed  a  determination  to  know 
 nothing  among  the  people  save  Jesus  Christ,  and  him 
 crucified.  Twice  in  one  chapter  (Acts  viii.),  we  learn  inci- 
 dentally, but  with  great  precision,  what  kind  of  seed 
 Philip  the  Evangelist  carried  always  in  his  vessel,  and 
 cast  into  every  furrow  as  he  passed  along.  When  a  large 
 congregation  assembled  in  the  city  of  Samaria  to  hear 
 him,  "he  preached  Christ  unto  them;"  and  when,  on  a 
 subsequent  occasion,  he  was  called  to  deal  with  an 
 anxious  inquirer  alone  in  the  desert,  "  he  opened  his 
 mouth  and  began  at  the  same  scripture" — He  was  led  as 
 a  lamb  to  the  slaughter — "and  preached  unto  him  Jesus." 
 This  is  the  seed  sent  down  from  heaven  to  be  the  life  of 
 the  world. 
 
 The  Sowers,  although  they  have  become  a  great 
 company  in  these  latter  days,  are  still,  like  the  reapers, 
 "  few"  in  relation  to  the  vastness  of  the  field.     The  Lord's 
 
THE  SOWER,  51 
 
 message  to  Ananias  of  Damascus  concerning  Saul,  im- 
 mediately after  his  conversion,  graphically  defines  the 
 office  of  a  minister  as  a  sower  of  the  seed :  "  He  is  a  cho- 
 sen vessel  unto  me,  to  bear  my  name  before  the  Gentiles, 
 and  kings,  and  the  children  of  Israel"  (Acts  ix.  15).  A 
 vessel  for  holding  Christ  and  dropping  that  precious  seed 
 into  human  hearts  wherever  an  opening  should  appear — 
 this  is  the  true  idea  of  a  minister  of  the  Gospel.  Nor  is 
 the  work  confined  to  those  who,  being  trained  to  it,  and 
 freed  from  other  cares,  may  thereby  be  capable  of  con- 
 ducting it  on  a  larger  scale.  As  every  leaf  of  the  forest 
 and  every  ripple  on  the  lake,  which  itself  receives  a  sun- 
 beam on  its  breast,  may  throw  the  sunbeam  off  again, 
 and  so  spread  the  light  around;  in  like  manner,  every 
 one,  old  or  young,  who  receives  Christ  into  his  heart  may 
 and  will  publish  with  his  life  and  lips  that  blessed  name. 
 In  the  spirit  of  the  Lord's  own  precept  regarding  the  har- 
 vest, we  may  all  be  encouraged  to  adopt  and  press  the 
 prayer  that  our  Father,  the  husbandman,  would  send  forth 
 sowers  into  his  field. 
 
 We  turn  now  to  the  Ground,  and  the  various  obstacles 
 which  there  successively  meet  the  seed  and  mar  its  fruit- 
 fulness. 
 
 I.  The  Way  side. — "  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."  A  path  beaten  smooth  by  the  feet  of  travellers 
 skirts  the  edge,  or,  perhaps,  runs  by  way  of  short  cut 
 through  the  middle  of  the  field.  The  seed  that  falls 
 there,  left  exposed  on  the  surface,  is  picked  up  and  de- 
 voured by  birds.     Behold  in  one  picture  God's  gracious 
 
52  THE  SOWER, 
 
 offer,  man's  self-destroying  neglect,  and  the  tempter's 
 coveted  opportunity! 
 
 The  analogy  being  true  to  nature  is  instantly  recog- 
 nised and  easily  appreciated.  There  is  a  condition  of 
 heart  which  corresponds  to  the  smoothness,  hardness,  and 
 wholeness  of  a  frequented  footpath,  that  skirts  or  crosses 
 a  ploughed  field.  The  spiritual  hardness  is  like  the 
 natural  in  its  cause  as  well  as  in  its  character.  The  place 
 is  a  thoroughfare;  a  mixed  multitude  of  this  world's 
 affairs  tread  over  it  from  day  to  day,  and  from  year  to 
 year.  It  is  not  fenced  like  a  garden,  but  exposed  like  an 
 uncultivated  common.  That  secret  of  the  Lord,  "  Enter 
 into  thy  closet,"  and  "  shut  the  door,"  is  unknown ;  or  if 
 known,  neglected.  The  soil,  trodden  by  all  comers,  is 
 never  broken  up  and  softened  by  a  thorough  self-search- 
 ing. A  human  heart  may  thus  becom^e  marvellously 
 callous  both  to  good  and  evil.  The  terrors  of  the  Lord 
 and  the  tender  invitations  of  the  Gospel  are  alike  ineffec- 
 tual. Falling  only  upon  the  external  senses,  they  are 
 swept  off  by  the  next  current;  as  the  solid  grain  thrown 
 from  the  sower's  hand  rattles  on  the  smooth  hard  road 
 side,  and  lies  on  the  surface  till  the  fowls  carry  it  away. 
 The  parallel  between  the  material  and  the  moral  here  is 
 more  close  and  visible  in  the  original  than  it  appears  in 
 the  English  version.  But  our  language  is  capable  in  this 
 instance,  like  the  Greek,  of  expressing  by  one  phrase 
 equally  the  moral  and  the  material  failure :  ''  Every  one 
 that  hears  the  word  of  the  kingdom  and  does  not  take  it 
 in"  {jj.ri  (TvvikvToi).  The  cause  of  the  failure  in  both  depart- 
 ments is,  that  the  soil,  owing  to  its  hardness^  does  not 
 take  the  seed  into  its  bosom. 
 
 The  seed  is  good:  **  The  word  of  God  is  quick  and 
 powerful;" — that    is,    it   "  is    living,  and   puts    forth   en- 
 
THE  SOWER.  53 
 
 ergy."*  Like  buried  moistened  seed  it  swells  and  bursts, 
 and  forces  its  way  through  opposing  obstacles.  A  heart  of 
 clay,  smoothed  and  hardened  on  the  surface,  may  hold  it 
 out  for  a  lifetime;  but  a  heart  of  stone  could  not  keep  it 
 down,  if  it  were  once  admitted,  for  a  single  day. 
 
 "  Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of 
 the  world;"  "  If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  unto  me 
 and  drink;"  "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou 
 shalt  be  saved;" — these  and  many  such  great  solid  seed- 
 grains  rain  from  heaven  upon  us  in  this  land:  shall  we 
 close  all  the  avenues  to  our  hearts  and  so  leave  that  seed 
 lying  on  the  surface  till  the  enemy  carry  it  aw^ay.?  or 
 shall  the  groanings  which  cannot  be  uttered,  the  convic- 
 tions of  sin  in  the  conscience,  rend  at  length  the  seared 
 crust,  that  the  seed  may  enter  and  occupy  the  life  for 
 God.? 
 
 If  privileged  and  professing  hearers  of  the  Gospel  come 
 short  of  the  kingdom,  the  fault  lies  not  in  the  seed — the 
 fault  lies  not  often  or  to  a  great  extent  even  in  the  sower, 
 although  his  work  may  have  been  feebly  and  unskilfully 
 done.  If  the  seed  is  good,  and  the  ground  well  prepared, 
 a  very  poor  and  awkward  kind  of  sowing  will  suffice. 
 Seed  flung  in  any  fashion  into  the  soft  ground  will  grow ; 
 whereas,  if  it  fall  on  the  way  side,  it  will  bear  no  fruit, 
 however  artfully  it  may  have  been  spread.  My  father 
 was  a  practical  and  skilful  agriculturist.  I  was  wont, 
 when  very  young,  to  follow  his  footsteps  into  the  field, 
 further  and  oftener  than  was  convenient  for  him  or  com- 
 fortable for  myself  Knowing  well  how  much  a  child  is 
 gratified  by  being  permitted  to  imitate  a  man's  work,  he 
 som.etlmes  hung  the  seed-bag,  with  a  few  handfuls  in  it, 
 upon  my  shoulder,  and  sent  me  into  the  field  to  sow.     I 
 
 *  Za'f  7A/5  0  X670S  Tov  Q^ov,  KoX  ii^€pyT]s. — TIeB.  iv.    12. 
 
54  THE  SOWER. 
 
 contrived  in  some  way  to  throw  the  grain  away,  and  it 
 fell  among  the  clods.  But  the  seed  that  fell  from  an  in- 
 fant's hands,  when  it  fell  in  the  right  place,  grew  as  well 
 and  ripened  as  fully  as  that  which  had  been  scattered  by 
 a  strong  and  skilful  man.  In  like  manner,  in  the  spiritual 
 department,  the  skill  of  the  sower,  although  important  in 
 its  own  place,  is,  in  view  of  the  final  result,  a  subordinate 
 thing.  The  cardinal  points  are  the  seed  and  the  soil.  In 
 point  of  fact,  throughout  the  history  of  the  Church,  while 
 the  Lord  has  abundantly  honoured  his  own  ordinance  of  a 
 standing  ministry,  he  has  never  ceased  to  show,  by  grant- 
 ing signal  success  to  feeble  instruments,  that  results  in  his 
 work  are  not  necessarily  proportionate  to  the  number  of 
 talents  employed. 
 
 Nor  does  the  cause  of  failure,  in  the  last  resort,  lie  in 
 the  soil.  The  man  who  receives  the  Gospel  only  on  the 
 hard  surface  of  a  careless  life,  is  of  the  same  flesh  and 
 blood,  endued  with  the  same  understanding  mind  and 
 immortal  spirit,  with  his  neighbour  who  has  already  be- 
 come a  new  creature  in  Christ.  Believers  and  unbelievers 
 are  possessed  of  the  same  nature  and  faculties.  As  the 
 ground  which  has  been  trodden  into  a  footpath  is  in  all 
 its  essential  qualities  the  same  as  that  which  has  been 
 broken  small  by  the  plough  and  harrow,  so  the  human 
 constitution  and  faculties  of  one  who  lives  without  God 
 in  the  world  are  substantially  the  same  as  those  which 
 belong  to  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord.  It  was  the  breaking 
 of  the  ground  which  caused  the  difference  between  the 
 fruitful  field  and  the  barren  way  side.  So  those  minds 
 and  hearts  that  now  bear  the  fruits  of  faith  were  barren 
 till  they  were  broken;  and  those  on  which  the  good  seed 
 has  often  been  thrown,  only  to  be  thrown  a^vay,  may  yet 
 yield  an  increase  of  a  hundredfold  to  their  owner,  when 
 
THE  SOWER.  55 
 
 conviction  and  repentance  shall  have  rent  them  open  to 
 admit  the  word  of  life. 
 
 Felix  the  Roman  governor  was  a  specimen  of  the  trodden 
 way  side.  His  heart,  worn  by  the  cares  of  business  and  the 
 pleasures  of  sin  passing  in  great  volume  alternately  over 
 it,  presented  no  opening  for  the  entrance  of  the  Gospel. 
 Paul,  accordingly,  when  called  to  preach  before  him,  did 
 not,  in  the  first  instance,  pour  out  the  simple  positive 
 message  of  mercy:  he  reasoned  of  righteousness,  temper- 
 ance, and  judgment  to  come;  thus  plying  the  seared  con- 
 science with  the  terrors  of  the  Lord,  in  the  hope  of  break- 
 ing thereby  the  covering  crust  and  preparing  a  seed  bed 
 for  the  word  of  life.  But  the  earth,  in  that  case,  was  as 
 iron,  and  refused  to  yield  even  to  an  apostle's  blow. 
 From  the  heart  of  Felix  the  message  of  mercy  was  effec- 
 tually shut  out.  The  jailer  of  Philippi  was  doubtless 
 equally  hard  in  a  more  vulgar  sphere,  but  his  defences 
 were  shattered :  in  that  night  of  visitation  his  heart  Avas 
 rent  as  well  as  his  prison,  and  over  the  openings,  while  they 
 were  fresh,  the  skilful  sower  promptly  dropped  the  vital 
 seed,  "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt 
 be  saved."     The  word  entered,  and  its  entrance  s^ave  life, 
 
 At  this  point  the  parable  addresses  its  lesson  specifi- 
 cally to  those  who  have  lived  without  God  in  the  world, 
 and  who  have  lived  in  the  main  comparatively  at  ease. 
 They  have  not  a  real  heart-possessing,  life-controlling  re- 
 ligion, and  they  have  never  been  very  sorry  for  the  want 
 of  it.  They  have  no  part  in  Christ,  and  no  cheering  hope 
 for  ete  rnity.  They  are  not  ready  to  die ;  and  yet  they 
 cannot  keep  death  at  bay.  They  know  that  they  ought 
 to  care  for  their  souls,  but  in  point  of  fact  they  do  not 
 care;  they  know  there  is  cause  to  be  alarmed,  and  yet^ 
 they  are  not  alarmed.     They  neither  grieve  for  sin  nor 
 
56  THE  SOWER. 
 
 love  the  Saviour;  yet  perhaps  a  dark  cloud-Hke  thought 
 sometimes  sweeps  across  their  brightest  sky — We  have 
 not  yet  gone  in  by  the  open  door  of  mercy,  and  while  we 
 are  delaying  it  may  be  suddenly  shut. 
 
 The  case  might  be  understood  well  enough  by  those 
 whom  it  concerns,  if  the  same  amount  of  attention  were 
 bestowed  upon  it  that  is  ordinarily  devoted  to  other 
 branches  of  business.  See  the  hard  dry  road  that  runs 
 along  the  edge  of  a  corn  field :  you  are  not  surprised  to  find 
 it  barren  in  a  harvest  day;  you  know  that  grain,  although 
 sown  there,  would  not  grow,  and  you  know  the  reason. 
 The  reason  why  the  Gospel  does  you  no  good  may  be  as 
 clearly,  as  surely  seen.  Cares,  vanities,  passions,  tread  in 
 constant  succession  over  your  heart,  and  harden  it,  so  that 
 the  word  of  Christ,  though  it  sound  on  the  surface,  never 
 goes  in,  and  never  gets  hold.  Think  not  that  the  saints 
 are  by  nature  of  another  kind :  they  were  once  what  you 
 are,  and  you  may  yet  become  what  they  are,  and  more. 
 "  Break  up  your  fallow  ground."  Look  into  your  own 
 heart's  sin  until  you  begin  to  grieve  over  it;  look  unto 
 Jesus  bearing  sin  until  you  begin  to  love  him  for  his  love. 
 Tell  God  frankly  in  prayer  that  your  heart  is  hard,  and 
 plead  for  the  Holy  Spirit  to  make  it  tender.  The  saints 
 already  in  rest,  and  disciples  in  the  body  still,  were  once  a 
 trodden  way  side  like  yourself,  as  hard  and  as  barren.  Place 
 your  heart,  as  they  did,  without  reserve  in  the  Redeemer's 
 hands;  bid  him  take  the  hardness  out  and  make  it  new. 
 Invite  the  Word  himself  to  take  up  his  abode  within  you ; 
 throw  the  doors  widely  open  that  the  King  of  Glory  may 
 come  in.  When  Christ  shall  dwell  in  your  heart  by  faith, 
 a  godly  sorrow  underneath  will  soften  every  faculty  of 
 your  nature,  and  over  all  the  surface  fruits  of  righteous- 
 ness will  grow. 
 
THE  SOWER.  57 
 
 II.  The  Stony  Ground. — A  human  heart,  the  soil  on 
 which  the  sower  casts  his  seed,  is  in  itself  and  from  the  first 
 hard  both  above  and  below;  but  by  a  little  easy  culture, 
 such  as  most  people  in  this  land  may  enjoy,  some  measure 
 of  softness  is  produced  on  the  surface.  Among  the  affec- 
 tions, when  they  are  warm  and  newly  stirred,  the  seed 
 speedily  springs.  Many  young  hearts,  subjected  to  the 
 religious  appliances  which  abound  in  our  time,  take  hold 
 of  Christ  and  let  him  go  again.  This,  on  the  one  hand, 
 as  we  learn  by  the  result,  was  never  a  true  conversion  ; 
 'but  neither  was  it,  on  the  other  hand,  a  case  of  conscious, 
 intentional  deceit.  It  was  real,  but  it  was  not  thorough. 
 Something  was  given  to  Christ,  but  because  all  was  not 
 given  the  issue  was  the  same  as  if  all  had  been  withheld. 
 In  the  rich  young  man  the  seed  sprang  hopefully,  but 
 it  withered  soon :  he  did  not  lightly  part  with  Christ,  but 
 he  parted :  he  was  very  sorrowful,  but  he  went  away. 
 
 A  Christian  parent  or  pastor,  diligent  in  his  main  bus;  • 
 ness  and  fervent  in  prayer  for  success,  observes  at  length 
 in  some  young  members  of  his  charge  a  new  tenderness 
 of  conscience,  an  earnest  attention  to  the  word,  a  subdued, 
 reverential  spirit,  with  frequency  and  fervency  in  prayer. 
 With  mingled  hope  and  fear  these  symptoms  are  watched 
 and  cherished:  the  symptoms  continue  and  increase:  the 
 converts  are  added  to  the  Church,  and  perhaps  their  ex- 
 perience is  narrated  as  an  example.  This  is  not  a  decep- 
 tion on  the  part  of  either  teacher  or  scholar :  it  is  a  true 
 outgrowth  from  the  contact  of  human  hearts  with  the  word 
 of  life.  Man,  who  looks  only  on  the  outward  appearance, 
 cannot  with  certainty  determine  in  whom  this  promise  of 
 spring  will  be  blasted  by  the  summer  heat,  and  in  whom 
 it  will  yield  a  manifold  return  to  the  reaper.  When  you 
 cast  your  eye  over  the  corn  field  soon  after  the  seed  has 
 
58  THE  SOWER. 
 
 Sprung,  you  may  not  be  able  to  detect  any  difference  be- 
 tween one  portion  and  another;  all  may  be  alike  fresh  and 
 green.  But,  if  some  parts  of  the  field  be  deep  soft  soil, 
 and  other  parts  only  a  thin  sprinkling  of  earth  over  un- 
 broken rock,  there  is  a  decisive  difference  in  secret  even 
 now,  and  the  difference  will  ere  long  become  visible  to  all. 
 Come  back  and  look  upon  the  same  field  after  it  has  lain 
 a  few  days  without  rain  under  a  scorching  sun:  you  will 
 find  that  while  in  some  portions  the  young  plants  have 
 increased  in  bulk  without  losing  any  of  their  freshness,  in 
 others  the  green  covering  has  disappeared  and  left  the 
 ground  as  brown  and  bare  as  it  was  when  the  sower  went 
 forth  to  sow  upon  it.  Where  the  earth  is  soft  underneath, 
 and  so  permits  the  roots  to  penetrate  its  depths,  the  tower- 
 ing stalks  defy  the  summer's  drought ;  but  where  the  roots 
 are  shut  out  from  the  heart,  the  leaves  wither  on  the  sur- 
 face. 
 
 If  the  law  of  God  has  never  rent  the  "  stony  heart "  and 
 made  it  "  contrite,"  that  is,  bruised  it  small,  you  may,  by 
 receiving  the  Gospel  on  some  temporary,  superficial  soft- 
 ness of  nature,  obtain  your  religion  more  easily  and  quickly 
 than  others  who  have  been  more  deeply  exercised;  but 
 you  may  perhaps  not  be  able  to  hold  it  so  fast  or  retain 
 it  so  long.  Testing  trials  are  the  method  of  the  divine 
 government,  discipline  the  order  of  Christ's  house.  He 
 that  endureth  to  the  end  shall  be  saved,  but  he  that  falls 
 away  in  the  middle  shall  not.  The  fair  profession  that 
 grows  over  an  unhumbled  heart  "  dureth  for  a  while,"  but 
 does  not  endure  to  the  end.  When  tribulation  or  perse- 
 cution ariseth  because  of  the  word,  the  religion  which 
 reached  no  further  than  the  surface  cannot  maintain  its 
 place  there ;  it  withers  root  and  branch.  The  inward  affec- 
 tion, such  as  it  was,  and  the  outward  profession  togethet 
 
THE  SOWER.  59 
 
 disappear.     From  him  that  hath  not  shall  be  taken  even 
 that  which  he  seerneth  to  have. 
 
 In  the  earlier  centuries  of  the  Christian  era  the  profes- 
 sion of  faith,  when  lightly  assumed,  was  frequently  and 
 suddenly  scorched  off  the  so-called  Christian's  lips  by  the 
 pitiless  persecution  of  heathen  governments :  in  subsequent 
 ages,  and  down  even  to  our  own  day,  Papal  fires  have 
 burned  fiercely  in  many  lands,  and  before  them  every 
 faith  has  faded  except  that  which  is  of  God's  own  plant- 
 ing, and  grows  in  the  secret  depths  of  believing  souls. 
 Nationally  for  several  generations  we  have  enjoyed  free- 
 dom ;  but  let  us  bew^are.  The  divine  law,  "  All  that  will 
 live  godly  in  Christ  Jesus  must  suffer  persecution  "  (2  Tim. 
 iii.  1 2),  has  not  been  repealed.  Nor  is  this  merely  a  caveat 
 thrown  in  to  keep  our  theology  correct;  it  is  a  present  and 
 pressing  truth.  In  every  season  and  in  every  climate  the 
 sun  of  persecution  is  hot  enough  to  kill  the  religion  which 
 grows  in  accidentally  softened,  natural  affections,  over  a 
 whole  and  unhumbled  heart.  Experience  incontestably 
 establishes  the  fact,  although  it  may  be  difficult  for  philo- 
 sophy to  explain  the  reason  of  it,  that  slight  persecutions 
 have  often  been  as  effectual  as  the  heaviest  in  blasting, 
 the  deceptive  appearance  of  religion,  which,  under  favour- 
 ing circumstances,  grew  for  a  time  in  the  life  of  an  unre- 
 newed man.  In  point  of  fact,  a  sneer  from  some  leading 
 spirit  in  a  literary  society,  or  a  laugh  raised  by  a  gay  circle 
 of  pleasure-seekers  in  a  fashionable  drawing-room,  or  the 
 rude  jest  of  scoffing  artisans  in  a  work-shop,  may  do  as 
 much  as  the  fagot  and  the  stake  to  make  a  fair  but  false 
 disciple  deny  his  Lord. 
 
 Young  disciples,  whose  faith  and  hope  are  bursting 
 through  the  ground,  should  be,  not  indeed  distrustful  of 
 the   Lord,   but  jealous   of  themselves.      *'  Let  him   that 
 
6o  THE  SOWER. 
 
 thinketh  he  standeth  take  heed  lest  he  fall."  Deeper 
 sense  of  sin,  clearer  views  of  the  Gospel,  warmer  love  to 
 Christ, — these  are  the  safeguards  against  backsliding. 
 Strive  and  pray  for  these.  Do  not  keep  Christ  on  the  sur- 
 face; let  him  possess  the  centre,  and  thence  direct  all  the 
 circumference  of  your  life.  "Whosoever  will  save  his 
 life,"  by  keeping  its  central  mass  all  and  whole  for 
 himself,  "shall  lose  it;  and  whosoever  will  lose  his  life 
 for  my  sake,"  opening  and  abandoning  it  to  Christ  from 
 its  circumference  to  its  core,  "shall  find  it."  It  is  then 
 only  his  own,  when  he  has  without  reserve  absolutely 
 given  it  away. 
 
 It  seems  to  have  been  after  the  manner  of  the  seed  on 
 stony  ground  that  king  Saul's  faith  grew  and  withered. 
 It  came  away  quickly  at  first,  and  presented  a  goodly  ap- 
 pearance for  a  while ;  but  the  ground,  broken  and  softened 
 on  the  surface  by  Samuel's  ministry  and  the  call  to  the 
 kingdom,  was  rockyunderneath,andthe  rock  was  never  rent. 
 When  he  was  seated  on  the  throne,  with  the  thousands  of 
 Israel  coming  and  going  at  his  word,  he  began  to  feel  the 
 restraints  of  piety  irksome,  and  to  count  the  rebukes  of 
 the  aged  prophet  rude.  The  sun  of  prosperity  scorched 
 the  green  growth  of  religious  profession  that  had  suddenly 
 overspread  his  outward  life.  Michal,  his  daughter,  better 
 acquainted,  probably,  with  the  kingly  airs  of  his  later 
 than  with  the  pious  confession  of  his  earlier  days,  seems 
 to  have  partaken  of  his  inward  hardness  while  she  had  no 
 share  of  his  superficial  piety.  Like  him,  she  was  ungodly 
 in  the  depths  of  her  soul;  but  unlike  him,  she  disdained 
 to  wear  the  outward  garb  of  godliness.  When  she  exerted 
 all  the  force  of  her  irony  in  order  to  make  her  husband 
 David  ashamed  of  his  own  zeal  in  dancing  before  the  Lord, 
 she  truly  reflected  the  inner  spirit  though  not  the  externa) 
 
THE  SOWER.  61 
 
 profession  of  her  fathers  court.  That  taunt  from  the 
 supercihous,  curhng  Hp  of  the  royal  princess,  who  had 
 honoured  him  by  consenting  to  become  his  wife,  was  a 
 burning  ray  of  persecution  streaming  on  David's  defence- 
 less head.  If  his  religion  had  been  confined  to  the  surface, 
 while  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  royalty  occupied  his 
 heart,  it  would  have  died  out  then  and  there,  as  the  tender 
 sprouting  corn,  whose  roots  rest  on  a  rock,  dies  out  under 
 the  scorching  sun  of  Galilee.  But  David's  faith  was  deep, 
 and  it  ripened  rather  than  withered  under  the  scornful 
 glance  of  the  worldly-minded  princess,  as  corn,  growing  in 
 good  ground,  fills  better  and  ripens  sooner  where  the  sky 
 is  cloudless  and  the  sun  is  fierce. 
 
 That  deep-seated  stony  hardness  of  heart  which  defies 
 all  the  efforts  of  human  cultivators  is  often  broken  small 
 by  the  hand  of  God.  It  appears  that  Lydia,  through 
 natural  temperament  or  association  with  Christians,  or 
 both  together,  had  attained  some  measure  of  spiritual 
 susceptibility,  for  she  confessed  the  truth  and  attended 
 the  prayer-meeting  by  the  river  side;  but  the  seed  of  the 
 v/ord  which  had  sprung  on  the  surface  of  her  life  had  not 
 yet  struck  its  root  so  deep  as  to  withstand  persecution  if 
 it  should  arise.  She  is  described  as  a  woman  who  sold 
 purple  and  worshipped  God :  she  had  an  honest  business 
 and  a  true  religion,  and  were  not  these  enough.-^  No;  the 
 next  fact  of  her  history  was  the  cardinal  point  of  her  life, — 
 *'  whose  heart  the  Lord  opened  that  she  attended  to  the 
 things  that  were  spoken  of  Paul."  The  seed  from  that 
 skilful  sower's  hand  went  in  and  took  possession,  but  it 
 entered  at  an  opening  made  by  the  power  of  God.  Whether 
 the  rock  was  rent  by  the  dew  of  the  Spirit  dropping  silently, 
 or  by  some  stroke  of  Providence  falling  on  her  person  or 
 her  material  interests,  we  know  not.     If  ordinary  provi- 
 
62  THE  SOWER. 
 
 dentlal  metliods  were  employed,  we  know  not,  of  the  many 
 instruments  that  He  close  to  the  Ruler's  hand,  which  he  was 
 pleased  to  use  in  that  particular  case.  Perhaps  the  child 
 of  this  honest  and  religious  woman  died,  and  her  bosom, 
 bereft  of  its  treasure,  rent  with  aching.  Perhaps,  on  the 
 day  that  Paul  was  there,  she  came  to  the  meeting  for  the 
 first  time  in  widow's  weeds,  and  the  stroke  that  tore  her 
 other  self  away  had  left  a  wide  avenue  open  into  her  heart. 
 Perhaps, — for  small  instruments  do  great  execution  when 
 they  are  wielded  by  an  almighty  arm, — an  adverse  turn  of 
 trade  had  left  the  hitherto  affluent  matron  dependent  on 
 a  neighbour's  bounty  for  daily  bread.  Were  other  dealers, 
 less  scrupulously  honourable  than  herself,  underselling  her 
 in  the  market }  Was  her  foreman  unsteady  }  for,  being  a 
 woman,  she  must  needs  depend  much  on  hired  helpers. 
 Or  did  a  living  husband  grieve  her  more  than  a  dead  one 
 could  }  By  some  such  instrument,  or  by  another  diverse 
 from  them  all,  or  without  any  visible  agent,  the  Lord 
 opened  Lydia's  heart,  and  the  word  of  life  entered  in  power. 
 Henceforth  she  was  not  her  own ;  Christ  dwelt  in  her  heart 
 by  faith,  and  her  life  was  devoted  to  the  Lord  her  Re- 
 deeiTier.  Deep  in  that  broken  heart  the  seed  is  rooted, 
 and  now  no  temptation,  however  intense  and  long-con- 
 tinued, shall  be  able  to  blanch  its  green  blade  or  blast 
 its  filling  ear.  Lord,  increase  our  faith.  When  trouble 
 comes,  whether  under  the  ordinary  procedure  of  God's 
 government  or  more  directly  from  his  hand,  whether  in 
 the  form  of  bodily  suffering  or  spiritual  convictions,  pos- 
 sess your  soul  in  patience  and  wait  for  the  end  of  the 
 Lord.  "  No  chastening  for  the  present  seemeth  to  be  joy- 
 ous, but  grievous;  nevertheless  afterward  it  yieldeth  the 
 peaceable  fruit  of  righteousness  unto  them  which  are 
 exercised  thereby"  (Heb.  xii.  ii). 
 
THE  SOWER.  63 
 
 III.  The  Thorns. — In  the  application  of  the  lesson 
 this  term  must  be  understood  not  specifically,  but  generi- 
 cally.  In  the  natural  object  it  indicates  any  species  of 
 useless  weed  that  occupies  the  ground  and  injures  the 
 growing  crop:  in  the  spiritual  application  it  points  to  the 
 worldly  cares,  whether  they  spring  from  poverty  or 
 wealth,  which  usurp  in  a  human  heart  the  place  due  to 
 Christ  and  his  saving  truth. 
 
 The  earthly  affections  in  the  heart  which  render  religion 
 unfruitful  in  the  life  are  enumerated  under  two  heads, — 
 "  The  care  of  this  world,"  and  ''the  deceitfulness  of  riches;" 
 the  term  riches  includes  also,  as  we  may  gather  from 
 Luke's  narrative,  the  pleasures  which  riches  procure. 
 
 Both  from  our  own  experience  in  the  world  and  the 
 specific  terms  employed  by  the  Lord  in  the  interpretation 
 of  the  parable,  we  learn  that  all  classes  and  all  ranks  are 
 on  this  side  exposed  to  danger.  This  is  not  a  rich  man's 
 business,  or  a  poor  man's  ;  it  is  every  man's  business. 
 The  words  point  to  the  two  extremes  of  worldly  con- 
 dition, and  include  all  that  lies  between  them.  "  The  care 
 of  the  world"  becomes  the  snare  of  those  who  have  little, 
 and  "  the  deceitfulness  of  riches,"  the  snare  of  those  who 
 have  much.  Thus  the  world  wars  against  the  soul,  alike 
 when  it  smiles  and  when  it  frowns.  Rich  and  poor  have  in 
 this  matter  no  room  and  no  right  to  cast  stones  at  each  other. 
 Pinching  want  and  luxurious  profusion  are,  indeed,  two 
 widely  diverse  species  of  thorns  ;  but  when  favoured  by 
 circumstances  they  are  equally  rank  in  their  growth  and 
 equally  effective  in  destroying  the  precious  seed. 
 
 In  two  distinct  aspects  thorns,  growing  in  a  field  of 
 wheat,  reflect  as  a  mirror  the  kind  of  spiritual  injury 
 which  the  cares  and  pleasures  of  the  world  inflict  when 
 they  are  admitted  into  the  heart :  they  exhaust  the  soil 
 
64  THE  SOWER. 
 
 by  their  roots,  and  overshadow  the  corn  with  theii 
 branches. 
 
 -  I.  Thorns  and  thistles  occupying  the  field  suck  in  the 
 sap  which  should  ga  to  nourish  the  good  seed,  and  leave 
 it  a  living  skeleton.  The  capability  of  the  ground  is 
 limited.  The  agriculturist  scatters  as  much  seed  in  the 
 field  as  it  is  capable  of  sustaining  and  bringing  to  maturity. 
 When  weeds  of  rank  growth  spring  up,  their  roots  greedily 
 and  masterfully  drain  the  soil  of  its  fatness  for  their  own 
 supply;  and  as  there  is  not  enough  both  for  them  and 
 the  grain  stalks,  the  weakest  goes  to  the  wall.  The  law- 
 ful, useful,  but  feeble  grain  is  deprived  of  its  sustenance 
 by  the  more  robust  intruder.  Under  the  ground  as  well 
 as  on  its  surface,  might  crushes  right.  Robbers  fatten 
 on  the  spoil  of  loyal  citizens,  and  loyal  citizens  are  left 
 to  starve.  Moreover,  the  weeds  are  indigenous  in  the 
 soil :  this  is  proved  by  the  simple  fact  of  their  presence, 
 for  certainly  they  were  not  sown  there  by  the  husband- 
 man's hand.  The  grain,  on  the  other  hand,  is  not  native; 
 it  must  be  brought  to  the  spot  and  sov/n ;  it  must  be 
 cherished  and  protected  as  a  stranger.  The  two  occupants 
 of  the  ground,  consequently,  are  not  on  equal  terms  ;  it 
 is  not  a  fair  fight.  The  thorns  are  at  home ;  the  wheat  is 
 an  exotic.  The  thorns  are  robust  and  can  hold  their 
 own  ;  the  wheat  is  delicate  and  needs  a  protector.  The 
 weeds  accordingly  grow  with  luxuriance,  while  the  wheat 
 stalks  in  the  neighbourhood,  cheated  ol"  their  sustenance 
 under  ground,  become  tall,  empty,  barren  straws. 
 
 2.  Thorns  and  thistles,  favoured  as  indigenous  plants 
 by  the  suitableness  of  soil  and  climate,  outgrow  the  grain 
 both  in  breadth  and  height.  The  outspread  leaves  and 
 branches  of  the  weeds  constitute  a  thick  screen  between 
 the  cars  of  corn  and  the  sunshine.     Under  that  blighting 
 
THE  SOWER.  65 
 
 shadow,  although  the  stalks  may  grow  tall  and  the  husks 
 develop  themselves  in  their  own  exquisite  natural  forms, 
 no  solid  seed  is  formed  or  ripened.  On  the  spot  which 
 the  thorns  usurped,  the  reaper  gathers  only  straw  and 
 chaff. 
 
 How  vivid  on  both  its  sides  is  the  picture,  and  how 
 truthfully  it  represents  the  case !  The  faculties  of  the 
 human  heart  and  mind  are  limited,  like  the  productive 
 powers  of  the  ground.  Neither  the  understanding  nor 
 the  affections  are  endowed  with  an  indefinite  capacity  of 
 reception.  The  soil,  even  where  it  is  rich  and  deep,  may 
 be  soon  exhausted,  especially  where  the  more  gross  and 
 greedy  weeds  have  taken  up  their  abode.  You  are  con- 
 vinced of  sin  and  begin  to  cry  for  pardon ;  you  plead  the 
 Redeemer's  sacrifice  and  righteousness;  you  grieve  over 
 your  own  backsliding,  and  come  anew  to  the  blood  of 
 sprinkling ;  the  twin  emotions,  confession  and  prayer, 
 struggle  together  in  your  breast,  "  Lord,  I  believe ;  help 
 thou  mine  unbelief"  Thus  far,  it  is  well.  The  field  has 
 been  broken ;  the  seed  has  been  covered  in  the  ground  ; 
 the  covered  seed  has  sprung ;  the  sprung  seed  has  grown 
 apace  and  now  seems  near  maturity.  The  evil  spirit 
 that  seeks  to  spoil  this  fair  promise  seldom  comes  in  the 
 form  of  speculative  unbelief  When  you  begin  to  fall 
 away,  you  do  not  begin  by  abjuring  your  religion,  or 
 denying  the  Lord.  You  do  not  pull  the  grown  but  un- 
 ripe corn  up  by  the  roots  and  cast  it  over  the  hedge :  the 
 harvest  is  marred  in  a  more  secret  and  silent  way.  The 
 kingdom  of  the  wicked  one,  cunningly  in  this  matter 
 imitating  the  kingdom  of  God,  "  cometh  not  with  obser- 
 vation." Weeds  spring  up  among  the  wheat.  At  first 
 they  are  small  and  scarcely  perceptible ;  the  inexperienced, 
 apprehending  no  danger,  are  put  off  their  guard.     The 
 
66  THE  SOWER. 
 
 first  leaves  which  these  bitter  roots  put  forth  are  gener* 
 ally  smooth,  tender,  and  apparently  harmless,  giving  to  the 
 inexperienced  eye  no  indication  of  their  rough  and  raven- 
 ous nature.  But  these  thorns,  if  they  are  not  watched, 
 curbed,  and  killed,  may  yet  cause  the  loss  of  the  soul. 
 
 If  you  are  poor,  anxieties  about  work  and  wages,  clothes 
 and  food,  wife  and  children,  become  the  thorn  plants, 
 harmless  in  appearance  at  first,  which  in  the  end  may  choke 
 the  seed  of  grace  in  your  heart.  If  you  are  rich,  the 
 pleasure  which  wealth  may  purchase,  or  love  of  the  wealth 
 itself,  may  become  the  bitter  root,  which  in  its  maturity 
 may  overpower  all  spiritual  life  within  you,  and  leave 
 only  chaff,  to  be  driven  away  in  the  great  day  of  the 
 Lord.  Watch  and  pray:  these  cares  and  pleasures  pre- 
 sent themselves  at  first  in  humble  and  submissive  guise ; 
 it  is  by  their  gradual  growth  that  they  are  enabled  to 
 inflict  a  deadly  injury.  Their  roots,  if  not  checked, 
 silently  drain  all  the  sap  of  your  soul,  and  the  kingdom  of 
 God  within  you,  although  never  formally  abjured,  is  per- 
 mitted to  sink  into  decay.  Your  time,  your  memory, 
 your  imagination,  your  afi"ections,  your  thoughts,  late  and 
 early, — all  that  constitutes  your  life,  instead  of  being 
 devoted  first  to  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness, 
 are  usurped  and  absorbed  by  the  things  that  perish  in  the 
 using.  When  you  betake  yourself  to  the  word,  to  prayer, 
 to  communion,  your  heart,  already  searched,  drained, 
 scourged  by  the  greedy  roots  of  rank  earthly  lusts,  is  a 
 sapless,  impoverished,  shrivelled  thing,  where  faith  in  God 
 and  loving  obedience  to  his  law  can  no  longer  grow. 
 Thus  perish  many  bright  promises  ;  and  high  above  the 
 ruin,  living  and  abiding  for  ever  stands  the  word  of  Christ 
 a  witness  against  all  who  have  been  undone  by  neglecting 
 it,  "  No  man  can  serve  two  masters." 
 
THE  SOWER.  67 
 
 Worldly  cares  nursed  by  indulgence  into  a  dangerous 
 strength  are  further  like  thorns  growing  in  a  corn  field, 
 in  that  they  interpose  a  veil  between  the  face  of  Jesus 
 and  the  opening,  trustful  look  of  a  longing  soul.  It  is  the 
 want  of  free,  habitual  exposure  to  the  Sun  of  righteous- 
 ness that  prevents  the  ripening  of  grace  in  Christians. 
 Unless  we  turn  our  eye  often  upward,  and  expose  the 
 struggling,  springing  seed  of  faith  to  the  beams  of  the 
 Redeemer's  love,  there  wdll  be  no  steady  growth  of  grace, 
 and  no  ultimate  fruit  of  righteousness.  It  is  thus  that 
 insinuating,  overspreading,  domineering  cares  quench  both 
 hope  and  holiness  :  they  hinder  the  simple,  tender,  con- 
 fiding look  unto  Jesus  which  is  necessary  to  the  increase 
 or  maintenance  of  spiritual  life.  The  love  of  Christ  freely 
 streaming  down  from  heaven  through  the  Scriptures  and 
 by  the  ministry  of  the  Spirit,  when  freely  admitted  into 
 an  open,  willing  heart,  by  degrees  turns  fear  into  hope, 
 doubt  into  faith,  and  the  feeble  struggle  of  a  child  into 
 the  strong  man's  glorious  victory;  as  unimpeded  sunlight 
 converts  the  minute  mustard  seed  into  a  towering  tree, 
 and  the  tender  sprouts  of  spring  into  the  golden  treasures 
 of  harvest.  A  thickly  woven  web  of  cares  and  pleasures 
 interposed  between  the  soul  and  the  Saviour  is  a  chief 
 cause  of  failure  in  "  God's  husbandry." 
 
 Nor  is  the  harvest  safe  although  the  thorny  shade  that 
 overhangs  it  be  not  completely  impervious  and  constant. 
 Fitful  glances  of  sunshine  now  and  then  will  not  bring 
 the  fruit  to  maturity.  Stand  beneath  the  branches  of  a 
 forest  tree  on  a  day  that  is  at  once  bright  and  breezy : 
 you  may  observe  on  the  ground  at  your  feet  a  curious 
 network  of  flickering  light  trembling  and  dancing  about 
 in  perpetual  motion.  The  sunbeams  that  penetrate  at 
 intervals  through  openings  among  the  agitated  branches 
 
68  THE  SOWER. 
 
 are  barren  though  beautiful.  The  grass  that  gets  no 
 other  light  grows  slim  and  pithless,  bearing  no  seed-knot 
 on  its  slender  top.  Sunlight  admitted  now  and  then 
 through  apertures  in  the  leafy  awning  is  not  sufficient  for 
 the  processes  of  nature;  the  grain  field  must  get  its  bosom 
 opened  without  impediment  permanently  to  the  sun.  It 
 is  thus  that  snatches  of  spiritual  exercise  do  not  avail  to 
 promote  the  growth,  or  even  to  preserve  the  life  of  grace 
 in  a  heart  that  in  the  main  is  habitually  overshadowed  by 
 a  crowd  of  overgrown  imperious  worldly  cares.  Evening 
 and  morning  you  may  open  the  Bible  and  bend  the 
 knee,  but  the  tender  plant  of  righteousness  in  your  heart 
 is  not  effectually  revived  by  these  brief  and  fitful  glances. 
 Before  the  drooping  leaves  have  had  time  to  feel  the. 
 genial  warmth,  another  cloud  has  closed  the  orifice  and 
 left  them  again  in  the  chill  damp  shade.  Even  the 
 Lord's  day,  as  a  gap  left  open  between  earth  and  heaven, 
 is  not  by  any  means  so  wide  as  it  seems ;  for  the  memory 
 of  the  past  week's  business  and  pleasure  stretches  over 
 on  the  one  side,  until  it  meet,  or  almost  meet,  the  anti- 
 cipation of  the  next  week's  business  and  pleasure,  so  that 
 even  on  the  Sabbath  the  world  still  overshadows  the  soul 
 of  its  votary.  Shut  out,  except  at  short  and  uncertain 
 intervals,  from  the  Light  of  Life,  he  passes  through  the 
 summer  of  his  probation  with  a  well-proportioned  but 
 empty  form  of  godliness  ;  and  the  Lord,  when  he  comes 
 at  the  close  to  gather  the  wheat  into  his  garner,  finds  on 
 that  portion  of  the  field  only  the  rustling  chaff  of  a  hollow 
 profession,  instead  of  the  fruit  unto  holiness  that  grows 
 on  living  souls. 
 
 Some  lessons  suggest  themselves  in  connection  with 
 this  portion  of  the  parable,  and  claim  a  brief  notice  at 
 our  hand. 
 
THE  SOWER.  69 
 
 1.  As  the  thorns  are  indigenous  and  spring  of  their 
 own  accord,  while  the  good  seed  must  be  sown  and 
 cherished  ;  so,  vain  thoughts,  lodged  in  our  hearts  from 
 the  dawn  of  our  being,  have  the  advantage  of  first 
 possession,  and  get  the  start  of  their  competitors  in  the 
 race  for  supremacy.  Lurking  unobserved  between  the 
 folds  of  nature's  faculties,  before  the  understanding  is 
 developed,  they  come  away  early  and  grow  rapidly,  and 
 obtain  a  firm  footing  before  the  saving  tiuth,  the  seed  of 
 the  kingdom,  has  burst  the  kernel  and  broken  through 
 the  ground.  Crucify  the  flesh  with  its  affections  and 
 lusts  ;  begin  that  w^ork  early,  and  persevere  in  that  work 
 to  the  end. 
 
 2.  As  long  as  the  weeds  live  they  grow.  Every  moment, 
 until  they  are  cast  out  of  the  field,  they  spread  themselves 
 more  widely  over  its  surface  and  drain  away  m.ore  of  its 
 nutritive  juice.  Delay  is  dangerous.  If  it  be  painful  to 
 pull  out  the  root  of  bitterness  from  your  heart  to-day,  it 
 will  be  more  painful  to-morrow.  Take  for  example  the 
 love  of  money :  we  know  well  that  though  money  is  a 
 useful  servant  it  is  a  hard  master ;  be  assured  if  it  get 
 and  keep  the  mastery  of  a  soul,  its  little  finger  in  the  end 
 will  be  thicker  than  its  loins  were  at  the  beginning. 
 Avarice  chastises  its  slave  in  middle  life  with  v/hips;  but 
 if  he  abide  its  slave,  it  will  chastise  him  when  he  is  old 
 with  scorpions. 
 
 3.  The  thorn  is  a  prickly  thing ;  it  tears  the  husband- 
 man's flesh,  as  well  as  destroys  the  fruit  of  his  field.  In 
 like  manner  the  care  of  the  world  and  the  deceitfulness 
 of  riches  lacerate  the  man  who  permits  them  to  grov/ 
 rank  in  his  heart.  The  vain  man  is  continually  meeting 
 with  slights,  or  suspecting  that  his  neighbours  are  about 
 to  offer  them.     The   miser  is  always  losing  money,  or 
 
7ft  THE  SOWER. 
 
 trembling  lest  he  should  lose  it  in  the  next  transac- 
 tion. The  world  itself  knows,  and  in  its  proverbs  con- 
 fesses, that  around  the  most  coveted  pleasures  are  set 
 sharp  thorns,  which  wound  the  hand  that  tries  to  pluck 
 the  rose. 
 
 4.  It  was  where  the  seed  and  the  thorns  grew  together 
 that  the  mischief  was  done.  If  the  grain  is  permitted  to 
 occupy  alone  the  heart  of  the  field,  the  thorns  that  grow 
 outside  and  around  it  may  constitute  a  hedge  of  defence, 
 not  only  harmless  but  useful.  There  is  a  place  for  cares, 
 and  for  riches  too, — a  place  in  which  they  help  and  do 
 not  hinder  the  kingdom  of  God.  Kept  in  its  own  sphere, 
 the  lawful  business  of  life  becomes  a  protecting  fence 
 round  the  tender  plant  of  grace  in  a  Christian's  heart. 
 Permit  not  the  thorns  to  occupy  the  position  which  is 
 due  to  the  good  seed.  Not  as  rivals  within  the  field, 
 but  as  guards  around  it,  earthly  afTairs  are  innocent 
 and  safe.  "  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his 
 righteousness,  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto 
 you." 
 
 5.  When  the  husbandman  perceives  a  huge  prickly 
 weed  in  the  midst  of  his  field  robbing  and  overshadowing 
 the  corn,  he  sends  his  servant  to  cast  out  the  intruder.  In 
 such  a  case,  a  bare  spot  is  left  where  the  thistle  grew ; 
 but  at  this  stage  experiences  diverge  and  travel  on  dif- 
 ferent lines  towards  opposite  results.  In  some  cases  the 
 blank  is  soon  made  up  again,  and  the  corn  waves  level 
 like  a  lake  over  all  the  field,  so  that  none  could  tell  whexC 
 the  thistle  stood  :  in  others,  the  blank  caused  by  the  re- 
 moval of  a  rank  weed  remains  a  blank  throughout  the 
 summer,  presenting  to  the  reapers  in  harvest  only  a  spot 
 of  bare  ground.  Why  do  opposite  effects  proceed  from 
 similar  operations }     Time  was  the  turning  point.      In 
 
THE  SOWER.  71. 
 
 the  one  case  the  weed  was  torn  out  at  an  early  period  of 
 the  summer ;  in  the  other  case  it  was  torn  out  too  late. 
 
 We  have  often  seen  a  soul  placed  in  imminent  danger 
 by  the  overgrowth  of  cares  or  pleasures  that  threatened 
 by  their  rankness  to  choke  the  seed  of  the  word ;  and  we 
 have  afterwards  seen  that  soul  delivered  from  the  danger, 
 by  a  stroke  of  God's  providence  that  plucked  out  the 
 weeds  in  time.  Manycof  the  saved  both  in  earth  and  in 
 heaven  now  praise  the  Lord,  because  he  tore  the  idols 
 from  their  hearts  and  spared  not  for  their  crying.  The 
 love  of  Christ  that  had  been  planted  in  their  youth,  and 
 had,  though  hard  pressed,  still  kept  hold,  soon  spread 
 again  and  occupied  all  the  empty  space,  whence  the  for- 
 tune, or  fame,  or  living  treasures  dearer  still,  had  been 
 plucked.  When  he  came  to  himself,  that  disciple, 
 afflicted  sore  but  comforted  again,  clearly  saw  and  gladly 
 sang  the  mercy  and  judgment  joined  together  that  had 
 cleared  the  room  for  Christ  in  his  heart.  But  examples 
 of  an  opposite  experience,  here  and  there  one,  stand  on 
 the  edge  of  life's  crowded  highway,  ghastly  as  the  pillar 
 of  salt  on  the  plain  of  Sodom,  burning  into  the  soul  of 
 the  passenger  the  warning  word,  "Be  in  time."  An  old 
 man  has,  by  the  hand  of  the  Lord  in  providence,  been 
 stripped  of  all  his  treasures.  These  treasures,  whether 
 they  were  in  themselves  the  noblest  or  the  meanest, — for 
 when  a  man  made  in  the  likeness  of  God  abandons  him- 
 self to  the  worship  of  an  idol,  it  matters  little  whether  the 
 idol  be  made  of  fine  gold  or  of  dull  clay, — these  treasures 
 possessed  and  filled  his  heart.  Round  them  his  under- 
 standing and  affections  had  closely  clasped,  so  that  his 
 whole  nature  had  taken  the  mould  of  the  object  which  it 
 grasped.  In  this  attitude  the  man  grew  old:  the  faculties 
 of  his  mind  became  hard  and  rigid  like  the  members  of 
 
T2  THE  SOWER. 
 
 his  body.  The  bosom,  no  longer  pliable  to  open  by 
 gentle  pressure,  was  rudely  rent,  and  its  portion  in  one 
 lump  wrenched  away.  A  deep,  broad,  dark  chasm,  like 
 the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  was  left :  and  the  chasm 
 remained  dark  and  empty  to  the  end  ;  for  neither  the 
 affections  of  the  old  man's  soul  nor  the  joints  of  the  old 
 man's  frame  would  fold  round  another  portion  now.  Ah! 
 the  cares  and  pleasures  that  drove  Christ  from  the  heart 
 may  be  cast  out  too  late  for  letting  Christ  come  in  again 
 to  occupy  the  empty  room.  "  Now  is  the  accepted  time ; 
 now  is  the  day  of  salvation."  "  To-day,  if  ye  will  hear 
 his  voice,  harden  not  your  hearts." 
 
 IV.  The  Good  Ground. — Guided  by  the  Great 
 Teacher's  own  interpretation,  we  have  travelled  through 
 the  series  of  successive  obstacles  which  hinder  the  growtli 
 and  mar  the  fruitfulness  of  God's  word  in  the  hearts  of 
 men, — travelled  through,  weeping  as  we  went.  At  the 
 close  of  this  sad  but  instructive  journey,  a  beauteous 
 sight  bursts  into  view :  it  is  a  field  of  ripe  grain  on  a 
 sunny  harvest  day.  The  ground  was  ploughed,  and  the 
 seed  sank  beneath  it  from  the  sower's  hand  in  spring  ;  the 
 earth  was  soft  and  sapful  to  a  sufficient  depth,  and  the 
 roots  of  the  springing  corn  found  ample  room  to  range  in  ; 
 the  soil  was  clean,  and  its  fatness,  not  shared  by  usurping 
 weeds,  went  all  to  the  nourishment  of  the  sown  seed  : 
 therefore  in  the  balmy  air  and  under  the  beaming  sun  it 
 is  ripe  to-day,  and  ready  to  fill  the  reaper's  bosom.  It  is 
 a  refreshing,  satisfying  sight ;  but,  fair  though  it  be,  we 
 shall  not  now  linger  long  to  gaze  upon  it.  By  the  parable 
 the  Master  meant  mainly  to  teach  us  what  things  are 
 adverse  to  his  kingdom.  Having  learned  this  lesson  from 
 his  lips,  we  go  away  grateful  for  his  pungent,  deeply- 
 
THE  SOWER.  73 
 
 traced,  and  memorable  warnings,  without  pausing  tc 
 examine  minutely  the  glad  prospect  to  which  our  thorny 
 path  has  led.  The  traveller  who  has  come  safely  through 
 many  dangers  by  flood  and  field,  narrates  at  large,  with 
 burning  lips  and  throbbing  heart,  the  varied  toils  of  the  jour- 
 ney; but  his  home, — he  does  not  describe,  he  enjoys  it.* 
 
 *  It  is  not  intimated  by  the  parable  that  our  Father  the  Husbandman 
 finds  any  of  the  good  ground  in  us  :  the  ground,  Hke  the  tree  in  another 
 analogical  lesson  of  the  Lord,  is  not  good  until  it  is  made  good.  It  is  be- 
 yond the  scope  of  this  parable  to  explain  how  the  ground  is  rendered  soft 
 and  kept  free  from  thorns.  The  Teacher  was  content  in  this  lesson  to  tell 
 us  what  the  good  ground  produces;  we  must  discover  elsewhere  in  the 
 Scriptures  whence  its  goodness  is  derived.  ".  ...  The  similitude  from 
 nature  is  no  longer  applicable  to  the  mystery  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  as 
 a  parable,  it  has  already  reached  its  limits,  when  the  truth  goes  beyond  the 
 similitude.  There  is  a  miraadotcs  seed  superior  indeed  to  all  natural  seed, 
 so  powerful  that  by  its  growth  it  can  and  will  choke  all  thorns.  Nay  more, 
 it  can  also  break  through  the  rock  in  striking  its  root  down  into  the  earth, 
 and  can  make  that  to  be  again  a  field  of  God  which  was  a  way  for  the  feet 
 of  the  pi-ince  of  this  world. " — Stier  m  loc. 
 
 Among  the  many  incidental  and  collateral  applications  of  which  this 
 parable  is  susceptible,  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  instructive  is — That 
 every  man  has  \Wthin  himself  the  elements  of  all  the  four  kinds  of  ground. 
 The  conception  is  thus  presented  by  Fred.  Arndt :  "At  the  outset,  the 
 word  of  God  finds  all  in  the  first  unreceptive  condition  ;  we  go  away  with- 
 out experiencing  its  power,  and  remain  in  a  state  of  nature,  unconverted. 
 Next,  the  word  begins  to  take  effect  upon  us,  and  we  are  awakened.  Oh 
 now  the  word  of  the  Lord  burns  with  a  holy  glow  in  our  hearts  !  We  give 
 ourselves  over  with  our  whole  souls  in  those  first  days  of  love.  We  have 
 found  heaven  ;  we  have  seen  it  opened,  and  the  angels  of  God  ascending 
 and  descending  on  the  vSon  of  man.  But  this  condition  does  not  endure. 
 The  fightings  begin  from  within  and  from  without,  and  the  flame  is  quenched. 
 The  heart  becomes  cold  and  empty.  The  life  of  faith  becomes  silent  and 
 slow  in  its  course.  We  become  languid  in  watching  and  prayer  ;  the  love 
 of  the  world  and  its  sinful  pleasures  awakes  again  ;  and  before  we  are  aware, 
 we  are  trying  to  serve  both  God  and  the  world.  Then  the  war  bursts  out : 
 this  moment  God  is  above  us,  the  next  beneath  us,  and  we  get  no  rest  until 
 we  have  renounced  the  world,  and  surrendered  our  heart  and  life  to  God 
 wholly,  and  to  God  alone.  Thus  we  pass,  in  the  faith-school  of  the  Holy 
 Spirit,  through  all  the  four  classes,  deceiving  ourselves  and  being  deceived, 
 until  at  last,  after  many  a  bitter  experience,  we  strike  upon  the  narrow  way, 
 and  through  the  strait  gate." — Die  Gleichniss-reden.  ?df.  Chr. 
 
74  THE  SOWER. 
 
 While  all  the  ground  that  was  broken,  deep,  and  clean 
 in  spring  and  summer,  bears  fruit  in  harvest,  some  portions 
 produce  a  larger  return  than  others.  The  picture  in  this 
 feature  is  true  to  nature  ;  and  the  fact  in  the  spiritual 
 sphere  also  corresponds.  There  are  diversities  in  the 
 Spirit's  operation ;  diversities  in  natural  gifts  bestowed  on 
 men  at  first;  diversities  in  the  amount  of  energy  exerted 
 by  believers  as  fellow-workers  with  God  in  their  own 
 sanctification ;  and  diversities,  accordingly,  in  the  fruitful- 
 ness  which  results  in  the  life  of  Christians.  While  all 
 believers  are  safe  in  Christ,  each  should  covet  the  best 
 gifts.  No  true  disciple  will  be  contented  with  a  thirty- 
 fold  increase  of  faith,  and  patience,  and  humility,  and 
 love,  and  usefulness  in  his  heart  and  life  for  the  Lord,  if 
 through  prayer  and  watching — if  by  denying  ungodliness 
 and  worldly  lusts — if  by  sternly  crucifying  the  flesh  and 
 trustfully  walking  with  God,  he  may  rise  from  thirty  to 
 sixty,  and  from  sixty  to  an  hundredfold  in  that  holy 
 obedience  which  grows  on  living  faith. 
 
II 
 
 THE  TARES. 
 
 "  Another  parable  put  he  forth  unto  them,  saying,  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  likened  unto 
 a  man  which  sowed  good  seed  in  his  field  :  but  while  men  slept,  his  enemy  came  and 
 sowed  tares  among  the  wheat,  and  went  his  way.  But  when  the  blade  was  sprung  up, 
 and  brought  forth  fruit,  then  appeared  the  tares  also.  So  the  servants  of  the  house- 
 holder came  and  said  unto  him.  Sir,  didst  not  thou  sow  good  seed  in  thy  field  ?  from 
 whence  then  hath  it  tares  ?  He  said  unto  them.  An  enemy  hath  done  this.  The  ser- 
 vants said  unto  him,  Wilt  thou  then  that  we  gc  and  gather  them  up  ?  But  he  said,  Nay  ; 
 lest  while  ye  gather  up  the  tares,  ye  root  up  also  the  wheat  with  them.  Let  both 
 grow  together  until  the  harvest :  and  in  the  time  of  harvest  I  will  say  to  the  reapers, 
 Gather  ye  together  first  the  tares,  and  bind  them  in  bundles  to  burn  them  :  but  gather 
 
 the  wheat  into  my  barn Then  Jesus  sent  the  multitude  away,  and  went  into  the 
 
 house :  and  his  disciples  came  unto  him,  saying,  Declare  unto  us  the  parable  of  the 
 tares  of  the  field.  He  answered  and  said  unto  them.  He  that  soweth  the  good  seed 
 is  the  Son  of  man ;  the  field  is  the  world ;  the  good  seed  are  the  children  of  the 
 Icingdom ;  but  the  tares  are  the  children  of  the  wicked  one ;  the  enemy  that  sowed 
 them  is  the  devil ;  the  harvest  is  the  end  of  the  world  ;  and  the  reapers  are  the  angels. 
 As  therefore  the  tares  are  gathered  and  burned  in  the  fire  ;  so  shall  it  be  in  the  end  ol 
 this  world.  The  Son  of  man  shall  send  forth  his  angels,  and  they  shall  gather  out  ot 
 his  kingdom  all  things  that  offend,  and  them  which  do  iniquity ;  and  shall  cast  them 
 into  a  furnace  of  fire  :  there  shall  be  wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth.  Then  shall  the 
 righteous  shine  fofth  as  the  sun  in  the  kingdom  of  their  Father.  Who  hath  ears  to 
 hear,  let  him  hear." — jMatt.  xiii.  24-30,  36-43. 
 
 S  the  main  design  of  the  first  parable  is  to  exhibit 
 the  kingdom  in  its  relation  to  unbelieving  men, 
 who,  in  various  forms  and  wath  various  measures 
 of  aggravation,  ultimately  reject  it ;  the  main 
 design  of  the  second  is  to  exhibit  the  kingdom  in  its  rela- 
 tion to  the  wicked  one,  who  endeavours,  by  cunning  strat- 
 agem, to  destroy  it.  In  either  case  there  is  a  conflict : 
 in  the  first,  the  conflict  is  waged  chiefly  between  the  word, 
 which  is  the  seed  of  the  kingdom,  and  the  various  evil 
 
76  THE  TARES. 
 
 dispositions  which  impede  its  growth  in  the  hearts  of  men  ; 
 in  the  second,  the  conflict  is  waged  chiefly,  as  in  the  mys- 
 terious temptation  in  the  wilderness,  between  Christ,  man's 
 Redeemer,  and  the  devil,  the  adversary  of  man.  In  the 
 first  parable  the  obstacles  to  the  progress  of  the  kingdom 
 lay  in  the  heedlessness,  the  hardness,  and  the  worldliness 
 of  men ;  in  the  second,  the  old  serpent  is  the  opposer,  and 
 wicked  men  are  wielded  as  instruments  in  his  hands. 
 
 The  picture  is  sketched  from  nature;  the  lines  are  very 
 few,  but  each  contributes  a  feature,  and  all,  together, 
 make  the  likeness  complete. 
 
 A  Galilean  countryman,  after  having  fenced  and 
 ploughed  and  cleaned  his  field,  has  watched  the  condition 
 of  the  soil  and  the  appearance  of  the  sky,  until  he  has 
 found  a  day  on  which  both  were  suitable  for  the  grand 
 decisive  operation  of  the  season,  the  sowing  of  the  seed. 
 With  anxiety,  but  in  hope,  this  critical  and  cardinal  act 
 is  performed  ;  the  seed  is  committed  to  the  ground. 
 
 It  was  "  good  seed  "  that  the  careful  husbandman  cast 
 among  the  clods.  If  the  last  season's  crop  was  of  inferior 
 quality,  he  and  his  children  have  cheerfully  lived  upon 
 the  worst,  that  the  best  might  be  reserved  for  sowing  ;  if 
 the  last  crop  was  scanty,  the  family  were  content  with  a 
 less  plentiful  meal ;  and  if  none  of  the  previous  year's 
 produce  was  well  ripened,  better  grain  has  been  bought 
 in  a  distant  market,  that  at  all  hazards  a  sufficient  quantity 
 of  good  seed  may  be  secured  for  the  coming  season. 
 Those  only  who  have  lived  among  them,  and  shared  their 
 lot,  know  how  much  the  poor  but  intelligent  and  indus- 
 trious cultivators  of  the  soil  will  do  and  bear  in  order  to 
 preserve  or  obtain  plenty  of  "  good  seed." 
 
 The  great  crisis  of  the  season  is  now  past ;  and  the 
 husbandman,  wiping  his  brow  as  he  glances   backward 
 
THE  TARES.  77 
 
 upon  his  completed  work,  goes  home  at  sunset  with  hmbs 
 somewhat  weary,  but  a  heart  full  of  hope.  The  next 
 portion  of  the  picture  is  of  a  dark  and  dismal  hue.  When 
 the  farmer  and  his  family,  innocent  and  unsuspicious,  are 
 fast  asleep,  a  neighbour,  too  full  of  envy  for  enjoying  rest, 
 stalks  forth  into  the  same  held  under  cover  of  night,  and 
 with  much  labour  scatters  something  broadcast  over  its 
 surface.  He  is  secretly  sowing  tares,  with  the  malicious 
 design  of  damaging  or  destroying  the  wheat.  As  soon 
 as  the  deed  of  darkness  is  done,  he  creeps  stealthily  back 
 to  his  own  bed,  and  in  the  morning,  when  he  meets  his 
 fellow-villagers,  does  his  best  to  put  on  the  air  of  an  in- 
 nocent man. 
 
 Weeks  pass  ;  showers  fall ;  the  seed  springs  and  covers 
 all  the  ground  with  beautiful  green.  The  owner  visited 
 his  field  from  time  to  time  in  spring,  and  thought  it  pro- 
 mised well.  But  at  that  period  of  the  summer,  still  a 
 good  while  before  harvest,  when  the  ears  of  the  grain 
 begin  to  appear,  some  of  the  farmer's  servants,  looking 
 narrowly  into  the  quality  of  the  crop,  discovered  that  a 
 large  proportion  of  it  was  darnel.  Forthwith  they  re- 
 ported the  sad  intelligence  to  their  master,  and  requested 
 permission  to  pluck  out  the  intruders.  It  was  agreed 
 among  them  that  good  seed  had  been  sown,  and  the 
 darnel  or  false  wheat  was  by  common  consent  and  with- 
 out hesitation  set  down  as  the  work  of  an  enemy.  As  to 
 the  treatment  of  the  disaster  now  that  it  had  occurred,  the 
 master's  judgment  was  clear,  and  his  order  explicit :  to 
 pull  out  the  darnel  at  this  stage,  as  the  servants  proposed, 
 would  hurt  the  wheat  more  than  help  it ;  both  must  be 
 permitted  to  grow  together  till  the  harvest ;  they  may  be 
 safely  and  effectually  separated  then. 
 
 Some  interesting  questions  connected  with  the  natural 
 
78  THE  TARES. 
 
 objects  claim  our  regard  in  the  first  instance,  before  we 
 proceed  to  investigate  the  spiritual  significance  of  the 
 parable. 
 
 What  are  the  tares  ?  The  original  term  does  not  else- 
 where occur  in  Scripture,  and  in  the  total  absence  of  ex- 
 amples for  comparison,  it  is  somewhat  difficult  to  ascertain 
 its  precise  signification.  The  word  and  the  thing  which 
 it  signifies  have  exercised  the  learning  and  ingenuity  of 
 expositors  both  in  ancient  and  in  modern  times.  On 
 such  a  subject  as  this  it  is  on  the  line  of  natural  history 
 rather  than  philology  that  the  investigation  should  mainly 
 proceed  ;  there,  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  surer  results 
 may  be  obtained.  Through  the  increased  facility  of 
 making  local  inquiries  which  has  of  late  years  been  en- 
 joyed, it  is  now  known,  and  apparently  with  one  consent 
 acknowledged  by  intelligent  inquirers,  that  the  seed  which 
 the  malicious  neighbour  sowed  in  order  to  injure  the  pro- 
 duce of  the  field  was  Lolinm  temulentum,  or  darnel,  a 
 kind  of  false  wheat  to  which  the  Arabs  of  Palestine  at 
 this  day  apply  a  name  (zowan)  which  bears  some  resem- 
 blance to  (j^iXavLo)  the  original  word  in  the  Greek  text.* 
 It  has  long  narrow  leaves  and  an  upright  stalk,  and  is 
 indeed  in  all  respects  so  like  the  wheat,  that  even  an  experi- 
 enced eye  cannot  distinguish  the  two  plants  until  they  are 
 in  ear:  the  distinction  then  is  manifest,  and  any  one 
 may  observe  it.  The  grains  of  the  darnel  are  not  so 
 heavy  as  the  wheat,  and  not  so  compactly  set  upon  the 
 stalk.  They  are  poisonous,  their  specific  effect  both  in 
 man  and  in  beast  being  nausea  and  giddiness.  The  re 
 mark  of  Schubert  in  his  "  Natural  History,"  quoted  by 
 Stier,  that  "  this  is  the  only  poisonous  grass,"  is  deeply 
 significant   in   relation  to  the  spiritual   meaning  of  the 
 
 *  "The  Land  and  the  Book,"  by  Dr.  Thomson.     T.  Nelson  &  Sons. 
 
THE  TARES.  79 
 
 parable  ;  it  suggests  the  reason  why  the  Healer  selected 
 this  plant  as  the  symbol  of  sin. 
 
 But  another  question  meets  us  here,  more  obscure  and 
 difficult  than  either  the  appearance  or  the  characteristic 
 effects  of  the  darnel, — the  question  whether  it  is  originally 
 a  specifically  different  plant,  or  only  wheat  degenerated. 
 Some  maintain  that  it  is  wheat  which,  by  some  mysterious 
 causes  in  the  processes  of  nature,  has  fallen,  as  it  were, 
 into  a  lower  type.  This  view  imparts  additional  fulness 
 to  the  parable  in  its  spiritual  application.  So  interpreted, 
 the  picture  exhibits  not  only  the  low  estate  of  the  sinful, 
 but  also  the  fact  that  they  have  fallen  from  a  higher.  In 
 such  cases,  however,  there  is  some  danger  lest  the  beauty 
 and  appropriateness  of  the  conception  should  entice  us  to 
 receive  it  on  insufficient  evidence.  The  fact  that  some 
 plants  in  certain  adverse  circumstances  tend  to  degenerate, 
 and  in  certain  favourable  circumstances  to  attain  a  higher 
 type,  is  well  known  in  natural  history;  but  it  seems 
 questionable  whether  these  changes  ever  take  place  to 
 such  an  extent,  and  in  such  a  uniform  method,  as  must  be 
 assumed  if  we  take  darnel  for  degenerated  wheat.  Agri- 
 culturists in  Palestine  believe  and  declare,  that,  when  the 
 season  is  wet,  the  wheat  which  they  sow  in  certain  fields 
 in  spring  grows  as  zowan  in  harvest.  It  is  difficult  for 
 one  who  is  accustomed  to  observ^e  the  uniformity  of  nature 
 in  the  reproduction  of  each  species  from  its  own  seed,  to 
 believe  that  transformations  so  great  are  accomplished  at 
 a  single  step.  An  American  writer,  one  of  the  latest 
 authorities,  and,  in  respect  to  his  abundant  opportunities 
 of  observation,  one  of  the  best,  bears  witness  that  he  has 
 often  seen  the  wheat  and  barley  fields  overrun  with  darnel, 
 and  that  the  native  owners  stoutly  declare  that  the  good 
 wheat  which  they  sowed  has  been  changed  into  the  false 
 
^O  THE  TARES. 
 
 in  the  process  of  growth  during  a  single  season;  but  he 
 intimates  at  the  same  time  that  he  beheves  the  men  are 
 mistaken,  and  that  the  presence  of  the  darnel  must  be 
 attributed  to  some  other  cause,  and  accounted  for  in  some 
 other  way.*  The  suggestion  that  the  same  peculiarities 
 of  season  which  destroy  the  sown  wheat  may  favour  the 
 springing  of  the  darnel,  that  had  lain  in  the  ground  dor- 
 mant before,  may  possibly  account  for  the  present  experi- 
 ence of  the  Syrian  cultivators ;  or  the  effects  may  be  in 
 whole  or  in  part  due  to  other  causes  of  which  w^e  are  not 
 cognizant;  but  the  solution  of  this  question  is  by  no 
 means  essential  to  the  right  interpretation  of  the  parable, 
 and  therefore  we  shall  not  prosecute  the  investigation 
 further  in  this  direction. 
 
 Dr.  Thomson  gives  unequivocal  testimony,  at  the  same 
 time,  that  at  the  present  day  no  instance  is  known  of  the 
 growth  of  darnel  among  the  wheat  being  caused  by  the 
 malicious  act  of  an  enemy.  This,  however,  as  he  distinctly 
 owns,  does  not  prove  that  the  transaction  depicted  in  the 
 parable  had  no  foundation  in  fact.  It  must  have  hap- 
 pened substantially  in  history,  otherwise  it  would  not 
 have  been  introduced  as  a  supposition  into  these  lessons 
 of  the  Lord.  Some  travellers  have  stated  that  this  species 
 of  crime  is  known  in  India;  but  I  do  not  set  much  value 
 on  the  discovery  of  precisely  identical  facts  in  modern 
 times.  The  existence  of  the  representation  in  this  parable 
 is,  simply  as  a  matter  of  rational  evidence,  a  tenfold 
 stronger  proof  that  the  facts  in  their  essential  features 
 actually  happened,  than  any  quantity  of  analogous  cases 
 drawn  from  other  countries  in  later  times.  It  is  of  greater 
 importance  to  note  that  the  malice  which  endured  the 
 
 *  "  The  Land  and  the  Book."     Note  by  Principal  Fairbairn  in  transla» 
 tion  of  "  Lisco  on  the  Parables." 
 
THE  TARES.  8i 
 
 toil  of  sowing  tares:  in  a  neighbour's  field  grows  yet,  and 
 grows  rankly  in  human  breasts.  In  different  ages  and 
 regions,  that  spiritual  wickedness  may  clothe  itself  in 
 bodies  of  diverse  mould  and  hue,  but  it  is  in  all  times  and 
 places  the  same  foul  and  malignant  spirit,  acting  accord- 
 ing to  its  kind.  The  same  spirit  that  sowed  darnel  among 
 wheat  at  night  in  a  corn  field  of  Galilee,  two  thousand 
 years  ago,  will  set  fire  to  a  stackyard,  or  hamstring  the 
 horses,  or  shoot  the  overseer  from  behind  a  hedge  in  our 
 own  day,  and,  alas!  in  some  parts  of  our  own  land.  As  in 
 the  highest  good,  so  in  the  deepest  evil,  there  are 
 diversities  of  operation  by  the  same  spirit.  When  we 
 take  into  account  the  changes  of  fashion  which  occur 
 both  in  clothing  and  in  crime,  we  have  no  reason  to  be 
 sceptical  as  to  the  ancient  fact,  and  no  difficulty  in  obtain- 
 ing a  modern  specimen. 
 
 From  the  results  already  gained,  it  appears  obvious 
 that  the  translation  "  tares"  in  our  English  version  is  unfor- 
 tunate: it  not  only  fails  to  represent  clearly  the  state  of 
 the  fact,  but  leads  the  reader's  mind  away  in  a  wrong 
 direction.  To  an  English  reader  the  term  suggests  a 
 species  of  legume,  which  bears  no  resemblance  to  wheat 
 at  any  stage  of  its  progress.  By  the  use  of  this  word  the 
 characteristic  feature  of  the  picture  is  greatly  obscured. 
 Had  the  plant  which  sprung  from  the  envious  neighbour's 
 seed  been  a  legume,  its  presence  would  have  been  detected 
 at  the  first,  and  it  could  have  been  separated  at  any  stage. 
 The  darnel,  on  the  contrary,  cannot  be  distinguished  from 
 wheat  until  both  are  nearly  ripe,  and  the  process  of  separ- 
 ation, whether  in  the  field  or  on  the  threshing-floor,  is 
 much  more  difficult. 
 
 Again  the  Lord  becomes  his  own  interpreter:  at  the 
 (»j  6 
 
S-2  THE  TARES. 
 
 request  of  the  disciples  he  explained  to  them  in  private 
 tlie  meaning  of  his  allegory.  The  points  are  great,  few, 
 and  clearly  defined.  In  this  journey  the  Master  has 
 kindly  gone  before  us;  reverently,  trustfully,  we  shall 
 follow  his  steps.  "  He  that  soweth  the  good  seed  is  the 
 Son  of  man ;  the  field  is  the  world."  It  is  in  connection 
 with  the  "  field  "  that  the  greatest  difficulty  has  occurred, 
 the  greatest  mistakes  have  been  made,  and  the  deepest 
 injury  has  been  done.  Few  words  of  Scripture  are  more 
 plain ;  and  yet  few  have  been  more  grievously  misunder- 
 stood and  wrested.  At  the  entrance  of  the  inspired 
 explanation,  the  expositor,  bent  on  the  defence  of  his  own 
 foregone  conclusion,  takes  his  stand,  like  a  pointsman  on  a 
 railway,  and  by  one  jerk  turns  the  whole  train  into  the 
 wrong  line.  "  The  field  is  the  world,"  said  the  Lord :  "  The 
 field  is  the  Church,"  say  the  interpreters.  It  is  wearisome 
 to  read  the  reasonings  by  which  they  endeavour  to  fortify 
 their  assumption.  Having  determined  that  the  field  is 
 the  Church,  they  are  compelled  immediately  to  address 
 themselves  to  the  great  practical  question  of  discipline. 
 If  they  were  prepared  to  admit  that  there  should  be 
 absolutely  no  discipline — that  no  man  should  be  shut  out 
 from  communion,  however  heretical  his  opinions  or  vicious 
 his  practice  might  be,  their  task  under  the  general  principle 
 of  interpretation  which  they  have  adopted  would  be  very 
 easy.  The  command  is  clear,  cast  none  out  of  the  "field," 
 however  fully  developed  their  wickedness  may  be,  until 
 the  angels  make  the  separation  between  good  and  evil  at 
 the  consummation  of  all  things.  If  the  field  means  the 
 Church,  the  exclusion  of  the  unworthy  by  a  human 
 ministry  is  absolutely  forbidden.  But  the  expositors  are 
 not  wilhng  altogether  to  abandon  discipline.  They  main- 
 tain, on  the  one  hand,  that  this  parable  deals  with  and 
 
THE  TARES.  83 
 
 settles  the  question  of  the  right  to  eject  unworthy  members 
 from  the  communion  of  the  Church  ;  and  on  the  other  hand, 
 that  while  it  condemns  excessive  and  puritanical  strictness, 
 it  permits  and  justifies  the  ejection  of  those  who  are  mani- 
 festly unworthy.  Most  of  the  commentaries  that  have 
 come  under  my  notice  betray  on  this  point  weakness  and 
 inconsistency.  If  by  this  feature  of  the  parable  the  Lord 
 gives  a  decision  on  Church  discipline,  he  forbids  it  out  and 
 out,  in  all  its  forms,  and  in  all  its  degrees.  The  separation 
 suggested,  he  permits  not  to  be  attempted  at  all,  until  he 
 shall  charge  his  angels  to  accomplish  it  at  the  end  of  the 
 world.  In  my  judgment,  to  contend  for  the  right  of  exclud- 
 ing some  of  the  ranker  tares,  after  admitting  that  this 
 parable  bears  upon  the  subject  of  ecclesiastical  discipline, 
 tends  not  only  to  perplex  the  student,  but  to  throw  a 
 reflection  on  the  authority  of  the  Word.  I  see  only  two 
 doors  open  :  either  cease  to  hold  that  the  field  is  the 
 Church,  or  cease  to  claim  the  right  of  excluding  any  from 
 communion. 
 
 Good  old  Benjamin  Keach,  in  a  portly  volume  on  the 
 parables,  addressed  "to  the  impartial  reader,"  and  sent 
 "  from  my  house  in  Horsley  Down,  Southwark,  August  20. 
 1 701,"  indicates  with  clearness  and  simplicity  his  own 
 judgment;  but,  overawed  by  authority,  seems  afraid  at 
 the  sound  of  his  own  words:  "The  field  is  the  world; 
 though  it  may,  as  some  think,  also  refer  to  the  Church. 
 Marlorate  saith  by  a  synecdoche,  a  part  for  the  whole,  it 
 signifies  the  Church ;  though  this  seems  doubtful  to  me, 
 and  I  rather  believe  it  means  the  world."  The  second  of 
 two  reasons  which  he  submits  as  the  grounds  of  his 
 opinion  is, — "  Because  tares,  when  discovered  to  be  such, 
 must  not  grow  among  the  wheat  in  the  Church,  but  ought 
 to  be  cast  out,  though  they  ought  to  live  together  in  the 
 
84  THE  TARES. 
 
 world."     Here  Keach  reasons  most  naturally,  and  Indeed 
 
 irrefragably,  against  the  interpretation  that  the  world  is 
 
 the  Church,  from  the  monstrous  consequence  to  which  it 
 
 necessarily  leads.     I  am  beyond  measure  amazed  to  find 
 
 the  general  stream  of  interpretation,  as  far  as  I  have  had 
 
 an   opportunity  of  examining   it,    ancient  and    modern, 
 
 German  and  Anglican,  flowing  in  this  channel.     When  I 
 
 And  the  great  and  venerated  name  of  Calvin  contributing 
 
 to  swell  this  tide,  I  am  compelled  to  pause  and  examine 
 
 the  subject  anew;  but  my  judgment  remains  the  same. 
 
 We  must  call  no  man  master  on  earth;  one  is  our  master 
 
 in  heaven.     It  is  not  necessarily  presumption  in  one  of 
 
 us  to  oppose  the  judgment  of  the  great  and  good  of  a 
 
 former   age,   especially  on   such  a  subject   as  this.     In 
 
 regard  to  all  the  relations  between  the  Church  and  the 
 
 civil  power,  we  are  in  a  better  position  for  judging  than 
 
 either    the    early    Reformers    or    the    Continental    and 
 
 Anglican  theologians  of  the  present  day.     The  general 
 
 progress  made  since  the  time  of  Calvin  in  the  historical 
 
 development  of  the  Christian  Church,  and  the  particular 
 
 experience  through  which  Christians  in  Scotland  have  in 
 
 later  times  been  led,  greatly  contribute  to  elevate  our 
 
 stand-point  in  relation  to  the  discipline  of  the  Church, 
 
 and  its  rig-ht  to  freedom  from  civil  control.     As  a  child 
 
 on  the  house-top  can  scan  a  wider  landscape  than  a  man 
 
 on   the    ground,    although    the    child    may    have    been 
 
 indebted  to  that  man  for  his  elevation ;  so  we  may  own 
 
 the  Reforrners  as  in  a  right  sense  our  teachers,  and  yet  on 
 
 some   subjects   form    a    sounder   judgment    than   they. 
 
 Although  no   new  revelation  has  been  made  since  the 
 
 Lord's  apostles  were  removed  from  the  earth,  the  Church 
 
 does  under  the  government  of  her  Head,  advance  from 
 
 age  to  age;  and  the  principle  embodied  in  the  declara- 
 
THE  TARES.  85 
 
 tlon,  *'  The  least  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  greater  than 
 he"  (Matt.  xi.  ii),  emerges  still  in  manifold  subordinate 
 fulfilments.  As  to  the  greatest  modern  scholars  of  Ger- 
 many and  England,  the  accepted  and  even  lauded  Eras- 
 tianism  in  which  they  are  steeped  is  a  beam  in  their  eye, 
 which  dims  and  distorts  their  sight  when  they  look  in  the 
 direction  of  the  Church  with  its  constitution  and  disci- 
 pline. While  on  other  subjects  their  insight  is  such  that 
 we  may  be  content  to  sit  at  their  feet,  the  view  on  this 
 side  is  from  their  stand-point  cut  off  short,  as  if  by  a 
 mountain  in  the  foreground,  and  they  can  afford  us  no 
 help. 
 
 "  The  field  is  the  world  : "  in  the  prevailing  confusion 
 we  hold  to  this,  as  the  ship  to  her  anchor  in  a  storm. 
 Men  should  remember  when  they  explain  away  the 
 meaning  of  the  term  "  world,"  and  teach  that  it  signifies 
 the  Church,  that  they  are  dealing  not  with  a  parable,  but 
 with  the  explanation  of  a  parable  given  by  the  Lord. 
 The  parable  is  professedly  a  metaphor;  but  when  the 
 I>ord  undertook  to  tell  his  disciples  what  the  metaphor 
 meant,  he  did  not  give  them  another  metaphor  more 
 difficult  than  the  first.  I  venture  to  affirm  that  the 
 expositors  would  have  found  it  easier  to  show  that  the 
 "  field  "  is  the  Church  than  to  show  that  the  "  world  "  is 
 the  Church.  According  to  their  view,  it  results  that  the 
 Lord  proposed  to  interpret  his  own  allegory,  but  only 
 gave  on  this  point  another  allegory  somewhat  more 
 obscure.  The  outrageousness  of  the  conclusion  proves 
 the  premises  false.  In  affectionate  tenderness  to  the 
 twelve,  the  Lord  Jesus  undertook  to  translate  a  figurative 
 expression  which  puzzled  them  into  a  literal  expression 
 which  the  feeblest  might  be  able  to  comprehend.  The 
 "field"  is  the  metaphor,  and  that  metaphor  interpreted 
 
86 
 
 THE  TARES. 
 
 is  the  ''world  ;"  it  does  not  need  to  be  interpreted  over 
 again.  This  Teacher  means  what  he  says.  He  points  to 
 this  globe,  man's  habitation,  and  mankind  its  inhabitants 
 in  all  places  and  all  times. 
 
 Into  this  world  Christ,  the  Son  of  man,  the  Son  of  God, 
 cast  good  seed.  The  children  of  the  kingdom  are  the 
 good  seed  :  in  the  beginning  men  were  made  in  God's 
 likeness,  and  placed  in  his  world.  Thereafter  and  there- 
 upon an  enemy  stealthily  and  maliciously  sowed  tares  in 
 the  same  field.  The  enemy  is  the  devil ;  and  the  tares 
 w^hich  he  by  his  sowing  caused  to  spring  in  the  field  are 
 the  children  of  the  wicked  one.  In  the  first  instance,  the 
 Day  in  which  the  sower  spread  good  seed  in  his  field  was 
 the  day  in  which  God  made  man  upright :  the  Night  in 
 which  the  enemy  sowed  tares  was  the  period  of  the  temp- 
 tation and  the  fall.  Both  these  antagonistic  processes  are 
 carried  on  still.  The  Son  of  man  sows  the  good  seed  day 
 by  day  in  the  world,  and  night  by  night  the  enemy  sows 
 his  tares.  Especially  and  signally  in  the  fulness  of  time  the 
 good  seed,  more  completely  developed,  was  again  com- 
 mitted to  the  ground  in  the  ministry  and  sacrifice  of 
 Christ ;  and  again  the  wicked  one  renewed  and  increased 
 his  efforts  to  counteract  and  destroy  it.  These  two,  oppo- 
 site in  origin  and  in  nature,  are  commingled  and  inter- 
 woven in  all  the  ordinary  relations  of  life.  The  children 
 of  the  wicked  one  and  the  children  of  the  kingdom  live 
 together  in  the  world,  eat  of  the  same  bread,  and  breathe 
 the  same  air,  and  look  upon  the  same  light 
 
 In  the  Galilean  field,  which  the  Lord  employed  as  a 
 type  Avith  which  to  print  his  lesson,  portions  might  be 
 seen  v/here,  owing  perhaps  to  peculiar  wetness' and  sour- 
 ness in  the  soil,  the  wheat  had  wholly  disappeared,  and 
 tlie  darnel  grew  alone  ;    in  other  parts,  probably  where 
 
THE  TARES.  8? 
 
 the  soil  was  warm  and  dry,  the  good  seed  had  gained  the 
 mastery,  and  the  false  scarcely  showed  its  head  ;  and  in 
 a  third  quarter  the  good  and  bad  might  appear  in  equal 
 numbers  and  equal  strength.  Such  precisely  is  the  aspect 
 of  the  world.  Large  portions  of  it  have  been  heathen 
 from  a  higher  date  than  that  to  which  history  ascends ; 
 large  portions,  which  were  Christian  long  after  the  apos- 
 tolic age,  have  been  overrun  and  laid  waste  by  the  blind 
 but  strong  system  of  Mahomet ;  while  in  other  parts  a 
 vigorous  Christian  life  appears,  although  even  there  the 
 good  seed  must  maintain  a  struggle  against  bitter  roots 
 below  and  poisonous  fruit  rearing  its  head  on  high. 
 
 I  accept,  therefore,  in  all  simplicity,  the  Master's  own 
 definition :  I  see  in  the  field  of  the  injured  husband- 
 man a  picture,  not  of  the  Church  in  the  world,  but  of 
 the  world  in  which  the  Church  must  for  the  present 
 live  and  labour.  The  ingenious  effort  made  by  a  recent 
 Swiss  expositor*  to  find  a  middle  path  only  serves  to 
 show  how  heavily  the  difficulties  of  the  common  interpre- 
 tation press  on  those  who  maintain  it.  Having  confessed, 
 according  to  the  terms  of  the  text,  that  the  field  or  ground 
 is  not  the  Church,  but  the  world,  he  proceeds,  w^ith  a  very 
 .strong  animus  against  what  he  calls  puritanism  or  separa- 
 tism,-)- to  argue  in  the  usual  way  against  every  attempt  to 
 purify  the  visible  Church  except  by  the  exclusion  of  per- 
 sons who  are  notoriously  heretical  or  vicious.  The  grounds 
 on  which  he  pleads  against  separation  from  the  impure,  in 
 
 *  Die  Parabeln  des  Herrn,  fur  Kirche,  Schule,  und  Haus,  erklart  von 
 Dr.  De  Valenti.     Basel,  1841. 
 
 t  It  is  quite  possible  that  the  separatists  whom  De  Valenti  scolds,  with 
 more  warmth  than  elegance,  may  deserve  his  censure ;  for  severe  restrictive 
 measures  adopted  by  governments  to  suppress  religious  dissent  have  fre- 
 quently the  effect  of  deteriorating  its  character,  on  the  princi})le  Ihat 
 oppression  makes  a  wise  man  mad. 
 
88  THE  TARES. 
 
 as  far  as  this  parable  is  concerned,  are — (i.)  That  there 
 was  no  need  of  a  revelation  to  make  known  the  univer- 
 sally acknowledged  maxim  that  bad  people  should  be 
 tolerated  in  the  world  ;  (2.)  That,  according  to  the  terms 
 of  the  parable,  the  farmer  sowed  wheat  in  his  ground,  but 
 did  not  sow  the  whole  of  his  ground — so  that  the  ground 
 may  be  the  world,  and  the  portion  sown,  or  the  wheat 
 field,  may  still  represent  the  Church ;  (3.)  That  the  par- 
 able of  the  fishing-net  confirms  this  interpretation  ;  and 
 (4.)  That  in  the  world  there  was  no  wheat  until  the  preach- 
 ing of  the  gospel  reached  it,  and  consequently  the  mixture 
 is  in  the  Church,  and  not  in  the  world. 
 
 The  first  of  these  grounds  seems  most  unfortunate;  for 
 corrupt  ecclesiastics,  from  an  early  age  to  the  present  day, 
 have  ever  shown  themselves  ready  to  cast  those  whom 
 they  call  heretics,  not  out  of  the  Church  only,  but  out  of 
 the  world  :*  the  second  is  a  refinement  too  narrow  for 
 building  any  conclusion  upon  :  the  third  applies  a  mis- 
 taken view  of  one  parable  to  support  a  mistaken  view  of 
 another :  and  the  fourth  is  the  second  in  another  form. 
 After  having  in  effect  explained  away  his  own  admission, 
 that  the  field  is  the  world,  and  not  the  Church,  he  freely 
 concedes  in  the  close  that  the  openly  heretical  and  vicious 
 should  not  be  tolerated  within  the  Church.  But  I  ask 
 what  ri2s;ht  has  he  to  exclude  those  whom,  accordincr  to 
 
 *  T^ange  {in  loc),  having  quoted  Gerlach  to  the  effect  that  this  prohibi- 
 tion refers  to  extremes  of  ecclesiastical  discipline,  for  the  purpose  of  exclud- 
 ing all  unbelievers  and  hypocrites,  and  constituting  a  perfectly  pure  Church, 
 timidly  replies  :  "  We  can  scarcely  agree  with  him  that  it  contains  no  allu- 
 sion to  the  punishment  of  death  for  heresy It  is  well  known  that 
 
 Novatianism,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Papal  hierarchy,  on  the  other,  have 
 addressed  themselves  to  this  work  of  uprooting  despite  the  prohibition  oi 
 the  Lord,  and  that  the  Romish  Church  has  at  last  ended  by  condemning  to 
 
 the  flames  only  the  best  wheat The  anfo  da  fa  of  the  middle  ages 
 
 ivere  only  a  huml)]e  caricature  a:id  anticipation  of  that  fiery  jut igment." 
 
THE  TARES.  89 
 
 his  exegesis,  the  Lord  commanded  his  ministers  to  tolerate 
 in  the  Church  ? 
 
 In  the  intimation  that  it  was  while  men  slept  that  the 
 mischief  was  done,  I  cannot  find  any  covert  reproof  of  an 
 indolent  ministry  in  the  Church.  It  was  night :  all  the 
 community  had  retired  to  rest.  The  species  of  criminal 
 which  the  parable  depicts  was  not  numerous, — the  crime 
 was  not  of  daily  occurrence.  It  was  neither  the  practice 
 nor  the  duty  of  the  people,  after  they  had  toiled  all  day 
 in  their  fields,  to  watch  their  work  by  night,  to  protect  it 
 from  possible  injury.  The  expression,  "while  men  slept," 
 is  intended  merely  to  indicate  that  the  evil-doer  took 
 advantage  of  the  darkness  to  cover  his  deed :  accordingly, 
 in  the  interpretation  no  specific  meaning  is  attached  to 
 this  feature  of  the  parable. 
 
 In  regard  to  the  servants,  and  their  proposal  instantly 
 to  pull  up  the  tares,  the  interpretation  is  attended  with 
 difficulty.  With  some  eminent  ancient  expositors  I  am 
 convinced  that,  if  not  exclusively,  yet  primarily  and  chiefly, 
 the  servants  who  offered  to  make  the  separation  are  the 
 angels.  The  parable  stretches  far  into  both  time  and 
 space :  it  comprehends  the  world,  and  the  successive  dis- 
 pensations of  God  there.  Morning  stars  sang  together 
 when  they  saw  beautiful  worlds  starting  into  being  at 
 their  Maker's  word  :  the  same  high  intelligences  must 
 have  been  surprised  and  grieved  when  they  saw  God's 
 fairest  work  marred  by  sin.  It  is  like  the  impulse  of 
 beings  perfect  in  holiness,  but  limited  in  knowledge,  to 
 offer  themselves  on  the  instant  as  willing  instruments  to 
 cast  the  defilers  out.  Pleased,  doubtless,  with  their  in- 
 stinctive zeal  for  holiness,  but  comprehending  his  own 
 purposes  better  than  they,  the  Lord  declined  the  proffered 
 ministry.    At  the  same  tmie  he  intimated  that  the  separa- 
 
90  THE  TARES. 
 
 tion  which  the  servants  suggested  was  not  refused,  but 
 only  postponed.  His  plan  required  that  good  and  evil, 
 now  that  evil  had  begun,  should  mingle  in  the  world  till 
 the  end.  At  the  close  of  the  dispensation,  when  the  Son 
 of  man  shall  come  in  his  glory,  he  will  give  the  commis- 
 sion for  a  final  separation  to  the  angels  w^ho  shall  consti- 
 tute his  train. 
 
 It  seems  to  be  generally  assumed  by  modern  exposi- 
 tors, that  wdiile  the  reapers  who  shall  separate  the  tares 
 from  the  wheat  in  harvest  are  angels,  the  servants  Avho 
 offered  to  weed  out  the  tares  while  they  were  yet  green 
 are  the  human  ministers  of  the  visible  Church.  Arch- 
 bishop Trench,  for  example,  says :  "  These  servants  are 
 not,  as  Theophylact  suggests,  the  angels  (they  are  the 
 reapers,  ver.  30) ;  but  men,  zealous,  indeed,  for  the  Lord's 
 honour,  but  zealous  with  the  same  zeal  as  animated  those 
 two  disciples  who  w^ould  fain  have  commanded  fire  to 
 come  down  from  heaven  on  the  inhospitable  Samaritan 
 village"  (Luke  ix.  54).  I  think  the  learned  author  is 
 mistaken  here,  and  that  the  preponderance  of  evidence 
 lies  on  the  other  side.  The  subject  is  interesting,  and  will 
 repay  the  labour  of  investigation. 
 
 Here  two  questions,  distinct,  yet  closely  connected,  con- 
 stitute the  case  :  on  the  answer  w^hich  may  be  given  to 
 them  the  decision  will  turn.  One  relates  to  the  persons, 
 and  the  other  to  their  acts  :  Are  the  "servants"  wdio  pro- 
 pose to  pull  up  the  tares  in  summer,  and  the  "reapers" 
 \\\\o  are  commanded  to  make  the  separation  in  harvest,  the 
 same,  or  different  persons.^  and  is  the  separation  proposed 
 by  the  serv^ants  substantially  the  same  in  kind  with  that 
 which  is  ultimately  effected  by  the  reapers,  or  is  it  different } 
 
 I  think  the  servants  and  the  reapers  are  substantially 
 identical.     The  troop  of  servants  who  haunt  a  rich  man's 
 
THE  TARES.  9 1 
 
 house,  and  the  band  of  labourers  who  reap  his  patrimonial 
 fields,  stand  far  apart  in  our  land  and  our  day.  Not  so, 
 however,  in  the  establishment  of  a  Galilean  householder 
 eighteen  hundred  years  ago.  When  you  take  into  view 
 the  habits  of  society  at  the  date  and  on  the  scene  of  the 
 parable,  it  will  appear  certain  and  obvious  that  the  ser- 
 vants who  proposed  to  weed  the  fields  in  summer  were, 
 in  part  at  least,  the  same  persons  who  would  be  sent  to 
 reap  the  fields  in  autumn.  The  reapers  might  be  a  more 
 numerous  band  than  the  servants  who  were  employed 
 throughout  the  year,  but  to  a  large  extent  the  constitu- 
 ents must  have  been  the  same.  In  another  parable  (Luke 
 xvii.  7-10),  a  servant,  who  has  been  ploughing  or  feeding 
 cattle,  is  obliged,  after  he  returns  from  the  field,  to  gird 
 himself  and  wait  on  his  master  at  table.  This  shows  con- 
 clusively that  the  division  of  labour  which  obtains  among 
 us  was  unknown  then  in  Galilee.  The  master  does  not, 
 indeed,  say  to  the  servants  who  made  the  proposal,  I  will 
 employ  you  in  harvest  to  accomplish  the  separation:  the 
 form  of  expression  is,  "I  will  say  to  the  reapers;"  but 
 reapers  and  servants  were  of  the  self-same  class,  and  in 
 all  probabihty  to  some  extent  the  same  individuals. 
 
 The  second  question  can  be  more  easily  answered. 
 The  separation  which  the  reapers  ultimately  effected  is 
 essentially  the  same  with  that  which  the  servants  at  an 
 earlier  period  proposed.  It  is  an  actual,  material,  final 
 separation  of  the  tares  from  the  wheat. 
 
 It  results  that  there  is  no  solid  ground  in  the  parable 
 for  the  assumption  that  those  who  proposed  to  make  the 
 separation  at  an  earlier  date  represent  men,  while  those 
 who  were  employed  to  accomplish  it  afterwards  represent 
 angels ;  and  that  the  separation  which  the  Lord  prohibited 
 was  spiritual,  while  that  which  he  permitted  was  physical. 
 
92  THE  TARES. 
 
 In  regard  to  the  separation  which  he  sanctioned,  the  Lord 
 interprets  what  the  operation  is,  and  who  are  the  opera- 
 tors ;  whereas,  in  regard  to  the  separation  at  an  earlier 
 date  proposed,  he  gives  no  interpretation.  Instead  of 
 beginning  by  giving  my  own  assumption  as  to  the  meaning 
 of  the  uninterpreted  part,  I  go  first  to  the  part  that  is  inter- 
 preted to  my  hand,  and  from  the  point  which  is  illumi- 
 nated I  get  light  thrown  back  on  the  point  which  was  left 
 in  the  shade.  The  reapers,  I  know,  are  the  angels  ;  and 
 the  servants  were  the  same,  or  at  least  the  same  class  of 
 ministers,  proposing  to  accomplish  the  work  at  an  earlier 
 date.  The  separation  which  was  actually  effected  in  the 
 harvest  represents,  we  know,  the  personal  and  local  as 
 well  as  moral  and  spiritual  separation  of  the  good  and 
 the  evil;  thence  I  conclude  that  the  separation  which  the 
 same  ministers,  or  the  same  class  of  ministers,  had  pre- 
 viously offered  to  make  was  personal  and  local  as  well  as 
 moral  and  spiritual.  The  proposed  and  the  accepted  sepa- 
 rations were  precisely  the  same  in  kind  and  degree;  they 
 differed  only  in  their  dates  :  while,  therefore,  one  of  the 
 two  is  interpreted  to  my  hand,  I  have  no  right  to  attach 
 to  the  other  an  interpretation  totally  different.  The 
 assumption  that  the  separation  which  the  Lord  prohibited 
 was  only  a  spiritual  sentence,  while  the  separation  which 
 he  permitted  was  actual,  local,  complete,  and  final,  derives 
 countenance  neither  from  the  parable  nor  its  interpretation. 
 It  appears  to  me,  then,  that  the  Lord's  direct  and  im- 
 mediate design  in  this  parable  is,  not  to  prescribe  the 
 conduct  of  his  disciples  in  regard  to  the  conflict  between 
 good  and  evil  in  the  world,  but  to  explain  his*  own. 
 Knowing  that  their  Master  possessed  all  power  in  heaven 
 and  in  earth,  it  was  natural  that  Christians  of  the  first  age 
 should  expect  an  immediate  paradise.    Nothing  was  more 
 
THE  TARES.  93 
 
 necessary,  for  the  support  of  their  faith  in  subsequent  trials^ 
 than  distinct  warnings  from  the  Lord,  that  even  to  his  own 
 people  the  world  would  remain  a  wilderness.  Accord- 
 ingly, both  in  plain  terms  and  by  symbols,  he  faithfully, 
 frequently  intimated  that  in  the  world  they  should  have 
 tribulation,  but  that  all  should  be  set  right  at  last.  On 
 both  sides  they  needed,  and  on  both  sides  he  gave,  the 
 instruction,  that  in  this  life  they  must  lay  their  account 
 with  a  mixture,  but  that  after  this  life  they  would  escape. 
 Left  to  their  own  imagination,  they  would  readily  have 
 expected  that  their  omnipotent  Head  would  so  rule  over 
 the  world,  and  so  instruct  his  ministers,  whether  stormy 
 winds  or  flaming  fires,  that  evil,  as  soon  as  it  showed  its 
 head,  would  be  weeded  out  of  his  people's  way:  but  with 
 this  parable  and  other  cognate  lessons  in  their  hands,  they 
 would  not  be  surprised  at  any  amount  of  success  which  the 
 enemy  might  be  permitted  to  obtain  ;  they  would  possess 
 their  souls  in  patience,  and  wait  for  the  end  of  the  Lord. 
 The  parable  condemns  persecution,  but  it  seems  not 
 to  bear  upon  discipline  at  all.  In  its  secondary  sense, 
 or  by  implication,  it  protects  the  wicked  from  any 
 attempt  on  the  part  of  the  Church  to  cast  them  out  of  the 
 world  by  violence ;  but  it  does  not,  in  any  form  or  meas- 
 ure, vindicate  a  place  for  the  impure  within  the  com- 
 munion of  the  Church  of  Christ.  Arguments  against  the 
 exclusion  of  unworthy  members,  founded  on  this  parable, 
 are  nothing  else  than  perversions  of  Scripture.  Elsewhere 
 Christians  may  clearly  read  their  duty  in  regard  to  any 
 brother  who  walks  disorderly  ;  elsewhere  they  may  learn 
 how  to  counsel,  exhort,  and  rebuke  the  erring,  and,  if  he 
 remain  impenitent,  how  to  cast  him  out  of  communion  by 
 a  spiritual  sentence;  but  in  this  parable  regarding  these 
 matters  no  judgment  is  given. 
 
94  THE  TARES. 
 
 While  the  "  Notes"  of  Dr.  Trench  on  the  parables  are 
 generally  judicious  and  valuable,  his  exposition  of  this 
 and  one  or  two  others  that  are  cognate  is  injured  by  a 
 secret  bias  towards  the  forms  in  which  he  has  been  edu- 
 cated,— a  bias  that  is  natural  and  human,  but  not  on  that 
 account  less  hurtful.    The  body  of  the  vast  and  venerable 
 institution  of  which  he  is  at  once  a  chief  and  an  orna- 
 ment, stands   so  near,  and  bulks  so  largely,  that  where 
 it  is  concerned  his  usual  acuteness  fails  him.     The  general 
 announcement  at  the  commencement  of  the  parable,  that 
 it  concerns  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  he  seems  to  think  is 
 sufficient  proof  that  the  "  field  "  must  mean  the  kingdom 
 of  heaven  or  the  Church.   It  does,  indeed,  concern  the  king- 
 dom of  heaven,  for  it  shows  that  when  that  kingdom 
 has,  by  the  Son  of  man,  been  introduced  into  the  world, 
 many  things  spring  up  and  mingle  with  it  there  to  mar  its 
 fruitfulness ;  but  it  betrays  an  unaccountable  confusion 
 to    argue   formally  that  because   the   parable   concerns 
 the   kingdom   of  heaven,   therefore,    of  all   the  features 
 which   the    parable   contains,    "  the    field "    must    speci- 
 fically represent  that  kingdom,  in   the  face   of  the   ex- 
 press testimony  of  Scripture  that  the    field    represents 
 a  totally  different  thing.     The  parable  of  the  mustard- 
 seed   concerns  the  kingdom  too,  but   does  the   "  field "' 
 in  that  parable  therefore  mean  the  Church .?     No.     The 
 mustard-seed  that  grew  in  the  field  means  the  Church, 
 and  the  field  means  the  world  in  which  the  Church  is 
 planted.     So  in  this  parable  the  only  thing  that  represents 
 the  Church,  or  aggregate  of  individual  believers,  is  the 
 mass  of  the  wheat  stalks  that  sprang  from  the  good  seed  : 
 the  good  seed  are  the  children  of  the  kingdom,  and  the 
 field  is  the  world  in  which  these  children  live  and  labour. 
 Looking  minutely  to  the  phraseology  employed,  we  find 
 
THE  TARES.  95 
 
 that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  not  said  to  be  likened  unto 
 a  field,  but  unto  a  man  that  sowed  seed ;  pointing  to  the 
 Lord  himself  as  the  head,  and  the  good  seed  as  his 
 members,  and  the  wide  world  as  their  place  of  sojourn,  till 
 he  take  them  to  himself 
 
 Dr.  Trench  remarks  further  on  this  point,  that  the  use 
 of  the  term  "  world  "  need  not  perplex  us  in  the  least  ; 
 and  perhaps  he  was  led  to  make  that  assertion  be- 
 cause the  use  of  the  term  did  perplex  him  much.  His 
 solution  of  the  difficulty  is  this :  "  It  was  the  world,  and 
 therefore  was  rightly  called  so,  till  this  seed  was  sown  in 
 it  ;  but  thenceforth  was  the  world  no  longer."  If  it  has 
 any  meaning  at  all,  this  sentence  must  mean  that  what 
 was  the  world  yesterday  becomes  the  Church  to-day, 
 v/hen  some  seed  is  sown,  when  some  children  of  the  king- 
 dom are  in  it.  Does  the  Avhole  world  become  the  Church 
 when  one  country  is  christianized  }  or  is  it  only  the  portion 
 christianized  that  becomes  the  Church  }  If  so,  how  many 
 Christians  must  be  in  a  given  portion  of  the  world,  to 
 constitute  that  portion  the  Church  .?  If  there  w^ere  three 
 of  the  true  seed  in  Sodom,  was  Sodom  the  Church }  or 
 did  not  the  three  constitute  the  Church  in  Lot's  house, 
 while  the  world  raged  around  it  like  the  troubled  sea } 
 
 Some  of  Stier's  remarks  are  good  :  "  The  parable  moves 
 in  quite  a  different  sphere  from  that  of  the  question  con- 
 cerning Church  discipline."  "  The  householder  forbids 
 and  will  not  allow  what  the  servants  wish.  These  would 
 have  all  the  tares  removed  entirely  from  their  place  among 
 the  wheat,  from  the  kingdom  of  Christ  (ver.  41).  But 
 because  the  field  is  the  world,  that  were  equivalent  to  re- 
 moving the  bad  out  of  the  world  (slaying  the  heretics),"  &c. 
 
 The  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  is,  that  whatever 
 separation  the  parable  forbids,  it  forbids  entirely  :  if  it 
 
96  THE  TARES. 
 
 speaks  of  discipline,  it  says  there  shall  be  none ;  so  that  they 
 are  wholly  out  of  their  reckoning  who  lean  on  it  for  the 
 condemnation  of  what  they  consider  excessive  strictness 
 while  they  would  retain  the  power  of  excluding  the  worst 
 from  communion.  But,  in  truth,  the  parable  has  nothing 
 to  say  on  the  subject. 
 
 When  we  have  made  our  way  through  the  discussions 
 that  have  accumulated  round  it,  we  return  to  the  text  in 
 its  simplicity,  and  grasp  its  plain  positive  truth,  "The  field 
 is  the  w^orld."  It  was  all  empty ;  notliing  good  grew 
 there,  until  the  seed  w^as  brought  from  heaven  and  sown. 
 The  nation,  the  family,  the  soul  that  has  not  Christ,  is 
 poor,  and  wretched,  and  miserable,  and  blind,  and  naked. 
 
 "  The  good  seed  are  the  children  of  the  kingdom." 
 They  are  bought  wdth  a  price  and  born  of  the  Spirit ;  they 
 are  new  creatures  in  Christ  and  heirs  of  eternal  life.  Ex- 
 pressly it  is  written  in  reference  to  Christ's  disciples,  "  All 
 things  are  for  your  sakes  "  (2  Cor.  iv.  15).  For  their  sakes 
 the  world  is  preserved  now,  and  for  their  sakes  it  will  be 
 destroyed  when  the  set  time  has  come.  The  darnel  is 
 permitted  to  grow  in  summer,  and  in  harvest  is  cast  into 
 the  fire, — both  for  the  sake  of  the  wheat.  Because  Christ 
 loves  his  own  he  permits  the  wicked  to  run  their  course 
 in  time  ;  but  because  Christ  loves  his  own  he  will  separate 
 the  wicked  from  the  good  at  last. 
 
 The  tares  are  the  children  of  the  wicked,  and  "  the 
 enemy  that  sowed  them  is  the  devil."  Some  people 
 doubt,  and  some  positively  deny,  the  existence  of  the 
 devil  ;  but  one  thing  is  clear,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the 
 eternal  Son  of  the  Father,  has  no  doubt  on  that  point. 
 He  believes  in  that  doctrine  and  teaches  it  :  he  teaches 
 it  to  the  multitude  on  the  margin  of  the  lake,  and  to  the 
 select  circle  of  hU  followers  in  a  private  dwelling. 
 
THE  TARES.  97 
 
 Lively  and  energetic  are  the  remarks  of  Fred.  Arndt 
 on  this  subject:  ''Yes,  Jesus  says,  in  dry,  clear  words, 
 *  The  enemy  that  soweth  them  is  the  devil.'  But  surely 
 there  is  not  any  devil  }  Who  says  that }  The  Son  of 
 God,  the  mouth  of  eternal  truth,  who  knows  the  realm  of 
 spirits  even  as  he  knows  this  visible  world, — who  is  the 
 highest  reason  and  the  deepest  wisdom,  yea,  even  Omnis- 
 cience itself, — he  believes  it.  He  holds  it  reasonable  to 
 believe  in  it.  He  teaches  what  he  believes.  Dost  thou 
 know  it  better  than  he,  thou  short-sighted  being,  thou  dust 
 of  yesterday,  thou  child  of  error  and  ignorance  t  He  says 
 it,  and  therefore  it  is  eternal  truth.  '  But  is  it  not  intended 
 to  be  taken  figuratively.^'  Well,  suppose  it  were  meant 
 figuratively,  we  can  only  comprehend  the  figures  of  actually 
 existing  things,  and  the  figurative  representation  of  the 
 devil  would  imply  his  real  being  :  but  here  in  the  text  the 
 speech  is  not  figurative  ;  the  expression  stands  not  among 
 pictures  and  parables,  but  in  the  interpretation  of  a  picture 
 and  a  parable."*  Whence  hath  it  tares.?  inquired  the 
 servants.  Already  in  those  days  they  had  begun  to  probe 
 the  question  around  which  the  conflict  of  ages  has  been 
 waged — the  origin  of  evil.  One  thing  in  the  answer  of 
 the  Lord  is  fitted  to  pour  a  flood  of  comfort  into  our 
 hearts  when  they  are  agitated  by  the  dif^culties  of  this 
 tremendous  problem, — "  an  enemy  hath  done  this."  Evil 
 does  not  belong  originally  to  the  constitution  of  man,  nor 
 has  God,  his  maker,  introduced  it.  Our  case  is  sad,  in- 
 deed ;  for  we  learn  that  an  enemy  whom  we  cannot  over- 
 come is  ever  lying  in  wait  seeking  how  he  may  devour 
 us.  But  what  would  our  case  have  been,  if  evil,  instead  of 
 being  injected  by  an  enemy  from  without,  had  been  of 
 the  essence  of  the  creature,  or  the  act  of  the  Creator  .-^    Our 
 
 *  Die  Gleichnisi-reden  'Jesu  Christi.  von  Fried.  Arndt. 
 
98  THE  TARES. 
 
 condition  would  have  been  one  of  absolute  and  irremediable 
 despair.  What  a  strong  one,  who  is  our  enemy,  has  brought 
 in,  a  stronger,  who  is  our  friend,  can  cast  out — will  cast 
 out.  Be  of  good  cheer  ;  believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
 and  thou  shalt  be  saved. 
 
 How  grand  is  the  view  which  this  picture  discloses, 
 when  in  the  interpretation  of  it  we  closely  follow  the 
 Master's  steps!  It  is,  indeed,  a  parable  concerning  the 
 kingdom  of  heaven.  The  whole  world  belongs  to  the 
 King ;  he  has  placed  his  children  in  it,  and  commanded 
 them  to  multiply  till  they  people  all  its  borders.  The 
 enemy  has  introduced  among  them  evil  persons,  and 
 within  them  evil  thoughts.  It  is  not  a  part  of  the  omnis- 
 cient Ruler's  plan  to  remove,  by  the  ministry  of  either 
 angels  or  men,  all  the  wicked  at  once  from  his  world. 
 For  his  own  purposes,  which  are  only  in  part  discernible 
 by  us,  he  permits  the  good  and  the  evil  to  mingle  and  con- 
 tend with  each  other  until  the  fulness  of  time,  as  he  left  the 
 Canaanites  in  the  land  to  chastise  and  exercise  his  chosen 
 people.  When  the  tares  prosper,  the  wheat  languishes  : 
 when  the  wheat  prospers,  the  tares  languish.  Evil  men 
 have  lived  in  God's  world  ever  since  sin  began":  evil 
 thoughts  and  deeds  will  be  found  in  God's  children  as 
 long  as  they  remain  in  the  body.  The  angels  are  not 
 sent  to-day  to  make  such  a  separation  as  would  leave  the 
 children  of  the  kingdom  nothing  to  do,  or  to  bear. 
 
 If  you  desire  the  heavenly  to  prosper  within  you  and 
 around  you,  fight  with  the  proper  weapons  against  the 
 devilish  :  if  you  desire  the  devilish  within  and  around  you 
 to  languish  and  decay,  cherish  the  heavenly.  As  David's 
 house  waxes  stronger,  Saul's  house  will  wax  weaker, 
 When  Christ  gets  more  of  the  world  and  of  our  hearts,  the 
 devil  will  get  less. 
 
THE  MUSTARD-SEED,  AND  THE  LEAVEN. 
 
 N  the  first  two  parables  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
 is  represented  in  conflict  with  its  enemies  ;  in 
 the  next  two  it  stands  alone,  putting  forth  its 
 inherent  life  and  power.  There  we  learn  the 
 strength  of  its  adversaries,  and  here  we  learn  its  own. 
 There  we  saw  the  efforts  made  to  check  the  progress  of 
 the  kingdom ;  and  here  we  see  the  progress  which,  in  spite 
 of  these  efforts,  the  kingdom  makes.  There  the  combat 
 is  exhibited,  and  here  the  victory.  Devils  and  men, 
 conscious  conspirators  or  unconscious  tools,  did  their 
 utmost,  as  explained  in  the  first  pair  of  parables,  to  strangle 
 the  kingdom  in  its  infancy,  or  to  overpower  it  at  a  later 
 stage  ;  but  the  kingdom,  as  we  learn  from  the  second 
 pair,  shakes  its  assailants  off,  emerges  unhurt  from  the 
 strife,  and  goes  forward  from  strength  to  strength,  until  it 
 has  subdued  and  absorbed  all  the  world.  I  have  seen 
 clouds  gathering  at  dawn  on  the  eastern  horizon,  with  dark 
 visage  and  a  multitudinous  threatening  array,  as  if  they 
 had  bound  themselves  by  a  great  oath  either  to  prevent 
 the  sun  from  rising  or  afterw^ards  to  quench  his  light ;  but 
 through  them,  beyond  them,  above  them,  slowly,  steadily, 
 majestically  rose  the  sun,  nor  quivered  from  his  path,  not 
 halted  in  his  progress,  until  by  the  power  of  his  mid-day 
 light  he  had  utterly  driven  those  clouds  away,  so  that  not 
 a  shred  of  their  tumultuous  assemblage  could  any  more 
 be  seen  on  the  clear  blue  sky.     Such  and  so  impotent  in 
 
:oo  THE  MUSTARD-SEED,  AND  THE  LEAVEN. 
 
 Christ's  hands  arc  the  adversaries  of  Christ's  kingdom, 
 although  they  seem  formidable  to  men  of  little  faith  : 
 such  and  so  glorious  will  be  the  final  victory  of  the  King, 
 although  even  his  true  subjects  may  fret  and  fear  over  his 
 incomprehensible  delay.  The  coming  of  the  kingdom  is 
 like  the  morning,  as  slow,  but  as  sure.  As  smoke  is  driven 
 before  the  wind,  so  shall  the  Redeemer  in  the  day  of  his 
 power  drive  away  all  those  adversaries,  whether  within  his 
 people  or  without,  that  now  impiously  say,  "  We  will  not 
 have  this  man  to  reign  over  us."  Christ's  disciples  are  on 
 the  winning  side,  whatever  may  be  the  present  aspect  of  the 
 world.     "  He  that  believeth  shall  not  make  haste." 
 
 The  two  parables  which  now  claim  our  attention,  al- 
 though closely  allied,  are  not  in  meaning  and  application 
 precisely  identical.  Both  show  the  progress  of  the  king- 
 dom from  a  small  beginning  to  a  glorious  consummation; 
 and  both  indicate  that  this  growth,  as  to  cause,  is  due  to 
 its  own  inherent  unquenchable  life,  and  as  to  manner,  is 
 silent,  secret,  unobserved.  Thus  far  these  two  are  in  the 
 main  coincident ;  but  besides  teaching  the  same  lesson  in 
 different  forms,  they  teach  also  different  lessons.  The 
 parable  of  the  mustard-seed  exhibits  the  kingdom  in  its 
 own  independent  existence,  inherent  life,  and  irresistible 
 power  ;  the  parable  of  the  leaven  exhibits  the  kingdom  in 
 contact  with  the  world,  gradually  overcoming  and  assimi- 
 lating and  absorbing  that  world  into  itself.  Both  alike 
 show  that  the  kingdom  increases  from  small  to  great ;  the 
 first  points  to  the  essential,  and  the  second  to  the  instru- 
 mental cause  of  that  increase  :  in  the  mustard-seed  we 
 see  it  growing  great  because  of  its  own  omnipotent  vitality; 
 in  the  leaven  we  see  it  growing  great  because  it  uses  up 
 all  its  adversaries  as  the  material  of  its  own  enlar<7ement. 
 
III. 
 
 THE   MUSTARD-SEED. 
 
 "  Another  parable  put  he  forth  unto  them,  saying,  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  to  a 
 grain  of  mustard-seed,  which  a  man  took,  and  sowed  in  his  field  :  which  indeed  is  tha 
 least  of  all  seeds  :  but  when  it  is  grown,  it  is  the  greatest  among  herbs,  and  becometh 
 a  tree,  so  that  the  birds  of  the  air  come  and  lodge  in  the  branches  thereof."— Matt. 
 xiii.  31,  32. 
 
 E  are  familiar  with  the  mustard-plant  both  in  a 
 wild  and  in  a  cultivated  state  in  our  own 
 country.  Although  not  the  smallest,  it  is  by 
 no  means  the  largest  of  our  herbs.  On  this 
 point  it  is  necessary  to  recall  and  keep  in  mind  the 
 fact  that  when  a  given  plant  is  indigenous  in  a  southern 
 climate,  the  corresponding  species  or  variety  that  may 
 be  found  in  more  northerly  latitudes  is  generally  of  a 
 comparatively  diminutive  size.  I  have  seen  a  maho- 
 gany-plant cultivated  in  a  flower-pot,  the  best  repre- 
 sentative that  could  be  obtained  here  of  those  forest 
 patriarchs  in  tropical  America  which  constitute  the 
 mahogany  of  commerce.  The  diminutive  proportions  of 
 our  mustard-plant  prove  nothing  regarding  the  magnitude 
 of  the  herb  which  bears  the  corresponding  name  in  Syria. 
 We  know,  in  point  of  fact,  that  it  grows  there  to  a  great 
 size  at  the  present  day.  "  I  have  seen  it,"  says  Dr.  Thom- 
 son, "  on  the  rich  plain  of  Akkar  as  tall  as  the  horse 
 and  his  rider."*     Irby  and  ]\Iangles  found  a  tree  grow- 
 
 *  The  Land  and  the  Book,  p.  64. 
 
I02  THE  MUSTARD-SEED. 
 
 ing  in  great  abundance  near  the  Dead  Sea  possessing  many 
 of  the  properties  of  mustard,  which  they  suppose  must  be 
 the  mustard  of  the  parable  ;  but  this  suggestion  seems 
 incompatible  with  the  main  scope  of  the  representation, 
 for  its  turning-point  lies  in  this,  that  a  culinary  herb  be- 
 came great  like  a  tree.  That  a  forest  tree  should  be  large 
 enough  to  afford  shelter  to  the  birds,  is  nothing  wonderful ; 
 the  parable  is  hinged  on  the  fact  that  the  garden  herb 
 (Kayavov)  became  a  tree  (SevSpov). 
 
 But  in  this  case  an  investigation  exact  and  minute  into 
 the  natural  history  of  the  plant  is  by  no  means  necessary 
 to  the  appreciation  and  explanation  of  the  parable.  It  is 
 not  needful  to  determine  what  amount  of  credit  is  due  to 
 the  witness  who  declared  that  he  had  seen  a  man  climbing 
 into  the  branches  of  a  mustard-plant,  or  how  far  the  fact, 
 if  real,  was  uncommon  and  exceptional.  This  plant 
 obviously  was  chosen  by  the  Lord,  not  on  account  of  its 
 absolute  magnitude,  but  because  it  was,  and  was  recog- 
 nised to  be,  a  striking  instance  of  increase  from  very  small 
 to  very  great.  It  seems  to  have  been  in  Palestine,  at  that 
 time,  the  smallest  seed  from  which  so  large  a  plant  was 
 known  to  grow.  There  were,  perhaps,  smaller  seeds,  but 
 the  plants  which  sprung  from  them  were  not  so  great  ; 
 and  there  were  greater  plants,  but  the  seeds  from  which 
 they  sprung  were  not  so  small. 
 
 But  the  circumstance  that  most  clearly  exhibits  and 
 indicates  the  appropriateness  of  the  choice,  is  the  fact  that 
 the  magnitude  of  the  mustard-plant,  in  connection  with 
 the  minuteness  of  its  seed,  was  employed  at  that  day 
 among  the  Jews  as  a  proverbial  similitude,  to  indicate  that 
 great  results  may  spring  from  causes  that  are  apparently 
 diminutive,  but  secretly  powerful.  The  expression,  "  If 
 ye  had   faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard-seed,"  employed  by 
 
THE  MUSTARD-SEEL.  103 
 
 the  Lord  on  another  occasion,  is  sufficient  to  show  that 
 both  the  conception  and  its  use  were  famiUar  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 
 iiide  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  persecutingpriesthood  will  over- 
 lay and  smother,  as  the  heavy  furrow  covers  the  micro- 
 
ro6  THE  MUSTARD-SEED. 
 
 scopic  mustard-secd.  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 — w'hich  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  unknowm  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  eood  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  Jmman  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. 
 
 Althoug-h  one  kincrdom  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  become 
 mighty  enough  to  cast  it  into  hell." — Drdsekevom  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  smokinsf  flax  of  sin.     He  com- 
 es o 
 
 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  Uke  unto  leaven,  which 
 a  woman  took,  and  hid  in  three  measures  of  meal,  till  the  whole  was  leavened." — 
 Matt.  xiii.  33. 
 
 N  the  mustard-seed  we  saw  the  kingdom  growing 
 great  by  its  inherent  vitaHty ;  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 
 
 Piour,  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  tJiree  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 
 
114  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 
 fmd  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  cither  it  is  performed  b}'  a  person  of 
 
THE  leaven:  115 
 
 the  appropriate  sex.  The  converse  would  have  been 
 starthng  and  inexphcable.  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, 
 Draseke  answers,  "  The  grace  of  God." — ii.  263. 
 
1 1 6  THE  LEA  VEN. 
 
 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  LEA  VEiV.  1 1 7 
 
 when  it  has  gotten  a  footing  in  the  world  or  in  a  man. 
 If  truth  and  error,  though  opposite  in  their  nature,  are 
 hke  each  other  in  their  tendency  to  advance,  as  if  by  con- 
 tagion ;  and  if  error  is  in  this  respect  hke  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  this  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 
 
I  1 8  THE  LEA  VEN. 
 
 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  LEA  VE.y.  1 1 9 
 
 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  w^hich  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." — Lan^^e  in  loc. 
 
I20  THE  LEA  VEX. 
 
 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  \vickedness 
 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,  thouc^h  constituted  as  a  com- 
 
THE  LEA  VEN.  i  2  i 
 
 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  defiled  the  Church.  How  completely  that  leaven 
 penetrated  the  lump  maybe  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  wath  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  LEAVEy. 
 
 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. 
 I'^mploying  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 
 n(;t  leavened  yet,  but  the  germ  has  been  introduced.    Tlie 
 
THE  LEAVEN,  123 
 
 meaning  of  Immanuel  is,  "  God  with  us  :"  the  incarna- 
 tion is  the  Hnk  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 
 
124  THE  LEAVEN. 
 
 into  the  friiic^cs  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,  it  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  aw^ay  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  w^ay,  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  efiferv^esce, 
 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  lp:aven.  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  1  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  1     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  w^hole  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  }-e  do,  do  all  to  the 
 glor\-  of  God." 
 
 L'rom  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  LEAVEiV.  127 
 
 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  v/ord  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  ixi  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. 
 
 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.  T29 
 
 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 
 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  ^i-^/^rzV  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  tc  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  w^ho  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  humari 
 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. 
 
132  THE  I/WDEX  TREASURE. 
 
 Ill  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 
 \-crified. 
 
 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 
 ijnitated. 
 
THE  HIDDEN  TREASURE.  133 
 
 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  ojuld  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  surv^ey  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. 
 
 1.  There  is  a  treasure,  placed  within  our  reach  in  this 
 world,  rich  beyond  all  comparison  or  conception, — a 
 treasure  incorruptible  and  undefiled  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  fev/  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  tliey  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  oi  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  seem  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  throncf. 
 At  the  threshold  of  the  prepared  festivities  a  message 
 meets  her, — a  message  charged  with  a  mighty  sorrov/, 
 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  behevers,  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  w^as  near  enough 
 to  observ^e  his  motions.  He  proceeds  next,  probably,  to 
 ply  his  ordinary  task  on  another  spot  w^ith  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  labour  to  search,  as  many  do,  for  something 
 in  the  spiritual  sphere  corresponding  to  the  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. 
 
I40  THE  HIDDEN  TREASURE. 
 
 You  may,  indeed,  find  instances  in  which  a  man,  awa- 
 kened and  persuaded  of  thepreciousness  of  Chnst,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  adequb.te,  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.  141 
 
 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.     When 
 
f42  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 
 w^eighty  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  v.-ith  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.  1 43 
 
 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  forAvard,  leaving  all 
 behind,  and  win  Christ. 
 
VI. 
 
 THE  PEARL. 
 
 "  Again,  tlie  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  unto  a  merchant  man,  seeking  gocdiy  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. 
 
 [O  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.  1 45 
 
 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 
 <y)  10 
 
146  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  safet> 
 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  1 860-61  : — 
 
 "  A  very  remarkable  expression  occurs  in  the  Apocalypse  (xvi.  18)  bearing 
 on  the  woi-k  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, 
 a5  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- 
 yan  ("Reign  of  Antichrist,")  says,  'For  the  earthquake,  it  is  said  to  be 
 sxtch  as  never  was,  so  mighty  an  earthquake  and  so  great.'     He  thought  l.he 
 
THE  PEARL.  147 
 
 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  vakie  of  the 
 article.* 
 
 *  I  liave  been  informed  by  a  British  merchant  who,  under  license  from 
 tlie  govern fnent  of  India,  conducts  the  pearl  fishing  in  the  Bay  of  Kuralchee, 
 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  secret- 
 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 
 ♦he  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  of 
 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  ir 
 
THE  PEARL.  t49 
 
 1  suppose  diamonds  occupy  now  the  place  that  was 
 held  by  pearls  in  ancient  times.  While  a  vast  number  of 
 i^oodly  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  maybe,  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  suddenl>  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 
 Ijeen  carried  on  in  certain  rivers  in  the  northern  districts  of  Scotland,  an;i 
 efforts  have  been  made  to  organize  a  r-^gular  trade. 
 
ISO  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.  1 5  1 
 
 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  peails  even  in  our 
 own  day  are  sometimes  found  of  a  value  so  great  that  the  history  of  an  in- 
 fiividual  is  recorded  and  its  praises  published  through  the  world.  The 
 following,  for  example,  are  the  terms  of  a  paragraph  taken  from  a  British 
 journal  of  last  year: — "  One  of  the  finest  pearls  in  the  world  has  been  found 
 in  the  bay  of  Panama.  It  is  of  a  perfect  pear  shape,  and  of  the  finest 
 water. " 
 
152  THE  PEARL, 
 
 tlon,  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 
 liis  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,  153 
 
 fore:  of  course  the  merchant  is  incredulous,  and  demands 
 a  sight  of  it.  Then  a  portion  of  the  covering  is  removed, 
 and  a  ghttering  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  rehgious  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  o(  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  V  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  tlie  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  jVIolirenfiirsten  Herze  brennt, 
 Sein  dunkles  Auge  flammt. 
 
 Denn  was  er  im  Juwelenschrein 
 
 Kandaces  nimmer  sah. 
 Die  eine  Peile,  himmlischrein 
 Die  kostlicher  als  Edelstein, 
 
 Er  fand  am  Weg  sic  da. 
 
 Karl  Gerok. 
 
156  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.  157 
 
 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,  co\'ering,  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  tne 
 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  Avith  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  tlie  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. 
 
 REAT  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  DRAW- NET.  t6i 
 
 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  arc 
 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 62  THE  DRAW- NET. 
 
 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  wlien  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  Avhich  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  's,  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 
 Jiave  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  ini- 
 
THE  DRA  W-NE  T.  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. 
 
 I.  It  makes  those  who  draw  the  net  through  the  water, 
 and  those  w^ho  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 
 
r  6  6  THE  DRA  I V-  JVE  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  interpretation  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  fishes  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 6 8  7  HE  DRA  I V-NE  T. 
 
 his  "Notes"    generally,    is    formally    reproduced    in    it3 
 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 
 bt^w  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  Churcli 
 does  not  justify  a  "self-willed"  departure  from  her  communion,  does  it 
 justify  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  of 
 the  English  Nonconformists  was  "self-willed,"  of  course  begs  the  whole 
 que'ition. 
 
THE  DRAW- NET.  l6(> 
 
 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 
 mwilling,  from  this  life  into  eternity  ;  for  both  good  and 
 Dad  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  1  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  l)reak  the  wtV  —Stier  \\\  loc. 
 
1 70  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  oyer  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  IV-NE  T.  1 7 1 
 
 mend  this  interpretation,  and  notice  some  of  the  objections 
 which  may  be  urged  against  it. 
 
 Among  the  reasons  which  commend  it, — 
 
 1.  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 
 
112  7 UK  DRAW- NET. 
 
 the  fishes  gently  give  way  before  it,  and  so  enjoy  for  a 
 Httle  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. 
 
 I.  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.  Obsei'ving 
 that  the  Lord  in  another  place  represents  the  doctrines 
 of  the  Pharisees  and  the  Sadducees  as  a  leaven,  some  have 
 
THE  DRA  W-NE  T.  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  w^herever  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-   inconjjruous  with    the 
 
 o  o 
 
f  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  Cnrist 
 
 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  DRAIV^NEI.  I7S 
 
 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  Trpo^i^^ioi'  illud,  {d^fioiudr]  i)  ^aaiXeia,  k.t.X.) 
 saepe  ita  comparatum  est,  ut  proprie  non  conferendum  sit  cum  solo  illo 
 subjecto,  quocum  ab  auctore  connectatur,  sed  potius  cum  universa  re  nar 
 raXjC—De  ParchoUs  Jesu  Chnsfi,  153. 
 
I  7  ^>  THE  DRA  IV-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  nic:h. 
 
THE  DRA  W-NE  T.  177 
 
 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,  Avhen  he  desired  to  give 
 his  disciples  a  lesson  upon  the  separation  which  takes 
 place  at  the  close  of  the  dispensation;  He  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 
 
lyS  THE  DRAW-XET. 
 
 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  giv^es  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  IV- XE  T.  1 7  9 
 
 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. 
 
I  So  THE  DRAW-NET. 
 
 We  subjoin  two  practical  lessons;  the  first,  though  in 
 itself  self-evidently  true,  depending  for  its  suggestion 
 Jiere  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  stru^frle,  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.  lor 
 
 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- 
 
1  8  2  THE  DKA  I V-  XE  T. 
 
 incnt  into  wliich  tlic  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  conv^ey  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 
 liate  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 
 
rilE  DRA  W-XE  T.  i  S  3 
 
 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 
 
lS4  THE  DRAW-XET. 
 
 may  trust :  tlie  onl}'  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  mng, 
 Wo  tausend  Vahr'  ist  wie  ein  Tag  : 
 Vor  dem  Ort  uns,  O  Gott,  bewahr'. 
 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. 
 
 ''  Therefore  is  tlie  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. 
 
 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. 
 
1 86  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 
 ^^  as  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  ;  if  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  prayei", 
 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.  1S7 
 
 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  Lord. 
 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 
 — avOpcoTTip  jSaa-iXei.  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 
 
1^8  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  SEKVAN7\  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,  other 
 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. 
 
I9">  THE  Um\ MERCIFUL  SERVAXT. 
 
 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  liis  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  ausgebriiteU 
 ( Those  who  get  most  mercy  give  least ;  and  cruelty  is  hatched  under  the 
 wings  of  tenderness).— Z);vwXvrw//  Reich  Gottes,  ii.  141. 
 
THE  UNMERCIFUL  SERVANT.  19I 
 
 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  arc  like  each  other,  they  are  the  same.  It  is 
 niost  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  earher  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  SERVAiXT.  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  unhmited  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 
 >'et  merciful  work  of  conviction. 
 (»-  la 
 
194  THE  UXMERCll'UL  SERVANT. 
 
 The  first  purpose  that  springs  in  the  heart  of  tiie 
 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  UXMERCIFUL  SERVANT.  195 
 
 shows  no  mercy  ;  the  fact  proves  that  he  has  not  him- 
 self accepted  the  mercy  that  was  offered  by  God.  If 
 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  teachinij  this  lesson,  he  touches  matters  s^reater  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  7iltiinate  act 
 and  the  secret  pozver  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  pecuUarly  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  vhich  we  bestow.) — iL  147. 
 
i')6  THE  UXMERCIFUL  SERVAXT. 
 
 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. 
 
 I.  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. 
 I  wen  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  veiy  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.  197 
 
 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,  w^as  relieved  even  of  that  small 
 remnant  by  forgiving  it:  the  selfish,  unloving  man,  w^ho 
 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.  Arnclt  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 
 
19^  THE  UNMERCIFUL  SERVAXT. 
 
 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  opi:)ressed  !  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 
 liappiness,  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  fi'om  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  our 
 lieavenly  Father  forgive  us  ;  and  this  would  be  the  greatest  calamity  that 
 could  befall  us  in  time  and  in  eternity." — Die  vc7'gcbc')ide  Liebe  ;  oder  Gleich- 
 tiiss  z'oni  Sc/iaikskfiechi. 
 
THE  UXMERCIFUL  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  sufiicient  motive  }  Suppose  that  an  un- 
 exceptionable machinery  has  been  constructed,  whence 
 shall  we  obtain  an  adequate  force  to  set  it  in  motion  } 
 PVom  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- 
 
200  THE  UXMEKCJFUL  SERVANT. 
 
 jrive  Avith  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  ofT  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 
 fro  their  liold.     You  will  stand  up  free. 
 
THE  UXMERCIFUL  SERVANT.  20 1 
 
 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,  w^hich  communicates  the  motion,  should 
 stand  still,  so  also  would  the  lower  :  but  more  than  this, — 
 if  the  low^er  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   UXMERCIFUL  SERVAXT. 
 
 ground  near  )'our  border.  While  }-our  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  of 
 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  dury  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  UXMERCIFUL  SERVANT.  203 
 
 The  miller,  finding  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  grov/  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  ofT  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  out 
 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  a  penny! 
 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  ?  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.  i-i6. 
 
 GAIN  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  Roman  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-da}', 
 
 *  The  name  of  a  great  trysting  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. 
 
2o6  THE   VIXEYAKD  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  the  men,  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  liis  work.     But  the  steward,  evidently  acting 
 
 *  By  law,  wages  ^or  ihe  work  of  the  day  must  be  paid  the  same  evening 
 (Deut.  xxiv.  15). 
 
THE   VINE  YARD  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  t " 
 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  P^ather'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  tlie  Sa\'iour  and 
 
2o8  THE   VIXEYARD  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  w^as  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  t 
 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  w^ords  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.  lie  who  makes  the  winds  his  mes- 
 (9)  W 
 
2IO  THE   VIiVEVARD  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  IMaster  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,  O 
 httle  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  Soldlinge.  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  wiihit  ewig;  wachst  ewig. — ii.  51. 
 
THE   VINEYARD  LABOURERS.  21 1 
 
 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. 
 
2  12  THE   VINEYARD  LABOURERS. 
 
 explanations  and  limitations,  especially  these  two,— 
 yi)  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  suft'er  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  Avho 
 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 
 did  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   VIXEYARD  LABOURERS.  21  "^ 
 
 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  in 
 
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 
 tlie  difference  by  giving  one  labourer  not  an  absolutely 
 ]3ut  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   VIXEYARD  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  i6th  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  w^e  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  oration- 
 ibus  Mat.  XIII.  modo  paucis  tantum  verbis  fit.  Saepe  enim  praemittitur 
 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."— .9r//////2(?  c/t'/c/;-.     86. 
 
2i6  THE  VINEYARD  LABOURERS. 
 
 term  "called"  as  signlf}'ing-  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  Nazaretli.     Alas  !  though  there 
 
THE  VINEYARD  LABOURERS.  217 
 
 ?.re  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. 
 
 I.  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  of 
 the  same  term,  e/cXe/crot,  in  Rev.  xvii.  14.  The  word  in  that  passage  must 
 have  the  same  meaning  that  we  liave  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;"  KKrjTol  Kal  eKXeKTol  Kal  TriaToi.  If  you  under- 
 stand here  by  iKXeKTol,  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  tlie  battlefield.  If  this  had  been  tlie 
 meaning  of  ^/cXe/croi  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. 
 
2iS  rilE   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  find  a  "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 
 liuman  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. 
 
 Ma  IT.  xxi.  28;  xxii. 
 
 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  dem- 
 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 
 sliinc  in  the  life  of  Christ  are  tlic  pure  pearly  coverings 
 
GROUP— THE  TWO  SONS,  ETC.  221 
 
 which  he  threw  around  Pharisaic  pride,  or  Sadducean  un- 
 behef,  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  SOXS,  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  dee[) 
 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  wdien  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  fust  parable,  to  declare  their  own 
 f^iilt ;  and,  in  the  second,  to  declare  their  own  punishment;  and  as  they 
 liad  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  estal> 
 Ualunent  of  his  new  kingdom  of  heaven  among  the  Gentiles." — Lan^e  in  loc. 
 
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. 
 
 ROM  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 
 
2  24  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  to 
 society.  There,  in  the  middle,  they  are  sheltered  from 
 many  dangers  to  w^hich  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 
 
 liumble  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,  w^hen  he  should  be  severe,  and  w^hen 
 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  afterw^ard  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 
 
2  26  THE   TWO  SOXS. 
 
 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  iii  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  anszvers. — 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  pointy  among  certain  classes,  a  subtle  tempta- 
 tion insinuates  itself     In  certain  circumstances,  ungodly 
 
 *  x\t  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  tliat  resulted 
 both  from  this  and  the  succeeding  parable. 
 
2  28  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  Hfe  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. 
 ]5y  comparing  themselves  complacently  with  fellow- 
 sinners  of  a  different  class,  they  contrive  to  rivet  the  fatal 
 error  more  firmly  on  their  o\\n\  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;  wdiat  then?  If  you  have  lived  unre- 
 penting,  unforgiven,  unchanged;  if  wath  yourw^hole  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.  H)'pocrites  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  w^th  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  SOXS.  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  anv  changfe  havino- 
 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  saitJi  unto  me,  Lord,  Lord  ;  but  he  that 
 doetJi  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 
 
230  THE   TWO  SOXS. 
 
 similar:  tlicy  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  m.an.  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.  231 
 
 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 
 
232  THE  TWO  SOXS. 
 
 many  sacrifices,  they  were,  notwithstanding,  living  in 
 malice  and  envy,  hateful,  and  hating  one  another.  With 
 their  lips  they  honoured  God;  but  in  w^orks  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 
 interv^ening  generations — so  surely  the  various  classes  of 
 human  characterw^hich  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.  2t,i 
 
 shadows  follow  solid  bodies  in  the  sunlight ; — to  the  Publi- 
 cans and  Harlots  first,  and  next  to  the  Pharisees  of  the  day. 
 
 I.  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  arc 
 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 
 rank,  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  THE  TWO  SOXS. 
 
 shut  out  of  heaven — ahke  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 
 liim. 
 
 But  to  this  class  the  parable  speaks  encouragement  as 
 ^^■ell  as  warning.  So  great  is  God's  mercy  in  Christ  that 
 even  }-ou  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  tlie  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  observ^ance  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 
 believ^e. 
 
 God  dcliirhts  as  much  to  receive  a  Pharisee  as  to  re- 
 
236  THE  TWO  SOXS. 
 
 ceivc  a  publican.  When  a  self-righteous  man  discover.^i 
 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  tw^o  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,  w^ould  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  w^as  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. 
 
XI. 
 
 THE  WICKED   HUSBANDMEN. 
 
 "  Hear  another  parable  :  There  was  a  certain  householder,  whicli  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  tliey  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 
 liim,  and  cast  him  out  of  the  vineyard,  and  slew  him.  When  the  lord  therefore  of  the 
 vinej'ard  cometh,  what  will  he  do  unto  those  husbandmen?  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."— M.^tt.  xxi.  33-46. 
 
 HEN  a  proprietor  has  determined  to  appropriate 
 as  a  vineyard  a  portion  of  ground  which  had 
 previously  lain  w^aste,  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; 
 dio-s  a  vat  for  receiving  the  juice,  and  prepares  an  appa- 
 
23S  THE   WICKED  IIUSBAXDMEM. 
 
 ratus  abo\'e  it  for  squeezing  the  clusters  quickly  in  the 
 liurry  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.  239 
 
 the  produce  at  the  proper  season  from  the  tenants  in 
 possession.  The  tenants,  presuming  on  the  distance  01 
 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 ;  they 
 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  arc   often  blind  to  their 
 
2 so  THE   WICKED  IIUSBAXDME.Y. 
 
 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.  241 
 
 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 : — 
 
 I.  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 
 oT  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  t  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  w^hole,  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  HUSBAXDMEy.  243 
 
 3.  Ps.  Ixxx.  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 
 flourishing  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  v/ith- 
 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  ivickcdness  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 
 
244  THE   WICKED  HUSBANDMEX. 
 
 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  w'hich,  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  canie 
 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  crucifv  him. 
 
THE  ]VICKED  IIUSBANDMEy.  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  tliey  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 
 
24^  THE  WICKED  IIUSBANDMEX. 
 
 nor  as  Gentiles,  but  as  the  disciples  of  Christ.  A  new  nation 
 (eOi'o?)  is  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  ]\Iakerand  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  w^hich  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 
 th.e  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  HUSBAXDMEN.  2^7 
 
 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  glory 
 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 
 
24S  rilE  WICKED  IIUSBANDMEy. 
 
 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 w^ith  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  ? 
 This  is  the  Lord's  doing,  and  it  is  marvellous  in  our  tyQ%.^Haibner  in 
 I.amre. 
 
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  ver>^ 
 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 
 
2  5°  THE   WICKED  IIUSBAXDMEX. 
 
 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 
 tlie  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  their 
 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  IIUSBAXDMEN.  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 
 wuth  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; 
 tliat  is,  to  Christ  who  unfolds  his  life  in  the  kingdom  of  God  and  grinds  the 
 kingdom  of  this  world  to  powder. — Lange. 
 
25-  THE  WICKED  IIUSBANDMEX. 
 
 stumbling."  The  mighty  one  stands  on  our  Hfe  patk, 
 and  we  cannot  pass  without  coming  into  contact  with 
 him.  If  we  flee  to  him  for  refuge,  he  is  the  sanctuar}^  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  IICSBANDMEN.  253 
 
 ill  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  V  He  wuU  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  Hke  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,  1 
 have  prepared  my  dinner :  my  oxen  and  my  fallings  are  killed,  and  all  things  are 
 ready :  come  unto  the  marriage.  But  they  made  light  of  it,  and  went  their  ways,  one 
 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  bunied  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  mto  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  not  on  a  wedding-garment :  And  he  saith  unto  him,  Friend,  how 
 camest  thou  in  hither  not  having  a  wedding-garment?  And  he  wa.s  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  manj'  are 
 called,  but  few  are  chosen." — M.\tt.  xxii.  1-14. 
 
 IHIS  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  rilE  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  and  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 
 
PA  R  T  I.  —  77/ E    JVEDDLVG  G  UES  TS.  2  5  7 
 
 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  th.e 
 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." 
 
 *  T  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 
 
8  THE  ROYAL  MARRIAGE  FEAST. 
 
 A  second  message  was  sent,  more  specific  and  more 
 urgent:  but  the  men  met  the  importunate  kindness  of 
 the  king  with  contemptuous  mockery  :  "  they  made  Hght 
 of  it,  and  went  tlieir  ways,  one  to  his  farm,  another  to  his 
 merchandise."  A  portion  of  them  carried  their  opposi- 
 tion beyond  supercihous  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  w^as  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  L  — THE  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 
 
26o  THE  ROYAL  MARRTAGE  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  its  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  w^hich  had  been  and  still  would  be  poured 
 out  upon  the  nation,  and  the  successful  proclamation  of 
 the  Gospel  to  the  Gentiles,  w^ien  the  natural  seed  of 
 Abraham  should  have  in  rebellious  unbelief  rejected  tlie 
 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  w^as  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  L  — THE  WEDDIXG  GUESTS.  261 
 
 the  Jewrish  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  himself 
 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  prom.ised 
 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  w^ere  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  v/ere  neglected  and  rejected 
 by  the  people  to  whom  they  were  sent;  Christ  came  unto 
 his  own,  and  his  ow^n  received  him  not. 
 
 Significant  are  the  differences  in  the  treatment  which 
 the  message  and  the  messengers  received  from  different 
 classes  w^ithin  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  worldllness,  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  another  lord, 
 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  melanclioly  interest  adheres  to  the  contrast  between  man's  heedless- 
 ness of  God  as  expressed  in  this  parable,  d/icX^traj^ej,  made  light  of  it,  did 
 not  care  for  it ;  and  God's  regard  for  men  as  expressed  in  i  Peter  v.  7,  aiVcjJ 
 ^Aei  Trfpt  iVwi/,  he  carelh  for  you. 
 
PART  L  — THE   WEDDING  GUESTS.  263 
 
 he  is  determined  to  abide  far  from  Christ,  or  is  kept  far 
 from  Christ  because  his  heart  is  pre-engaged  to  some 
 worldly-  lust.  In  the  case  which  the  parable  exhibits, 
 this  point  lias  not  been  expressly  determined.  When  the 
 second  and  more  urgent  message  arrived,  demanding  their 
 immediate  attendance  on  the  king  at  tlie  marriage  of  his 
 son,  those  men  departed  in  an  opposite  direction,  each  to 
 his  own  business ;  but  it  remains  an  open  question  whether 
 their  hearts  were  first  so  glued  to  the  farm  and  the  mer- 
 chandise, that  they  could  not  be  persuaded  to  take  from 
 these  engrossing  pursuits  as  much  time  as  would  suffice 
 to  attend  upon  their  sovereign ;  or  whether  there  was  first 
 a  determination  to  resist  the  sovereign's  call,  and  that  they 
 then  introduced  the  business  as  an  excuse,  and  fled  to  it 
 as  a  welcome  occupation. 
 
 It  may  have  been  either  or  both;  but  in  tlie  circum- 
 stances I  think  it  was  primarily  the  latter  of  the  two.  In 
 the  hearts  of  those  men  lay  a  deep  design  against  tlie 
 authority  of  the  king ;  but  it  would  have  involved  serious 
 risk  to  have  flatly  refused  his  reiterated  invitation.  They 
 had  actually  incurred  a  grave  responsibility,  and  they 
 were  disposed  to  lighten  it  somewhat  by  interposing  a 
 plausible  excuse.  Troubled,  moreover,  by  the  gravity  of 
 their  step  they  were  fain  to  seek  refuge  from  reflection  by 
 plunging  into  the  ordinary  avocations  of  life.  I  think  it 
 was  not  an  excessive  zeal  for  agriculture  and  trade  that 
 really  prevented  them  from  attending  on  the  king  that 
 day  ;  but  a  consciousness  of  having  conclusively  offended 
 the  king  that  drove  them  for  relief  into  agriculture  and 
 trade.  On  the  spiritual  side  of  the  parable,  in  like  manner, 
 the  excessive  devotion  to  business  which  occupies  some 
 men,  and  leaves  not  a  shred  either  o{  their  hearts  or  lives 
 for  Christ,  may  be  in  many  cases  not  a  primary  affection, 
 
2  64  THE  ROYAL  MARRIAGE  FEAST. 
 
 but  the  secondary  result  of  another  and  deeper  passion. 
 When  Christ  has  often  knocked  at  the  door,  and  the  in- 
 habitant soul  within  has  as  often  refused  to  open,  there  is 
 no  longer  peace  in  the  dwelling  that  has  been  barred 
 against  its  Lord.  He  who  has  rejected  the  merciful  offers 
 of  a  merciful  God,  does  not  afterwards  sit  at  ease;  every 
 sound  that  in  moments  of  solitude  falls  upon  his  ear,  seems 
 the  footstep  of  an  angry  God,  returning  to  inflict  deserved 
 punishment.  When  one  has  distinctly  heard  the  Saviour's 
 call,  and  deliberately  refused  to  comply  with  it,  he  thence- 
 forth experiences  a  craving  for  company  and  employment. 
 He  cannot  endure  silence  or  solitude.  When  he  stands 
 still,  he  seems  to  hear  the  throbbings  of  his  own  conscience 
 terrible  as  the  ticking  of  the  clock  in  the  chamber  of 
 death.  To  be  alone  is  unendurable,  because  it  is  to  be 
 with  God.  To  escape  from  this  fiery  furnace,  he  hastens 
 to  plough  in  his  field  or  sell  in  his  shop.  In  such  a  case, 
 the  worldliness,  even  when  it  runs  to  the  greatest  excess, 
 is  not  the  primary  passion,  but  a  secondary  refuge, — the 
 trees  of  the  garden  among  which  the  fallen  would  fain 
 hide  from  the  Lord  God. 
 
 But  in  some  cases  the  disease  may  first  approach  by 
 the  other  side :  love  of  the  world  may  be  the  earlier 
 matured  and  more  imperious  passion.  The  farm  and  the 
 merchandise  may  become  the  soul's  first  and  fondest  love; 
 and  that  love  possessing  all  the  soul's  faculties,  may  cast 
 or  keep  out  Christ  and  his  redemption.  If  you  suppose 
 those  invited  guests  to  have  been  previously  wedded  to 
 the  idolatry  of  covetousness,  worshipping  gain  in  secret 
 as  their  god,  you  can  easily  comprehend  how  they  should 
 grudge  a  day  taken  from  traffic  in  order  to  honour  their 
 king  ;  so  in  the  interpretation  of  the  parable,  w^hen  riches 
 or  pleasures  increase,  and  the  possessor  sets  his  heart  upon 
 
PART  /.  —  THE   WEDDIXG  GUESTS.  265 
 
 them,  he  has  ah'eady  obtained  his  portion,  and  will  not 
 cast  it  away  for  Christ  ;  he  will  mock  the  messengers  who 
 bring  the  distasteful  proposal. 
 
 Among  the  invited  guests,  however,  there  is  another 
 class  who  treat  the  king's  servants  in  another  way.  The 
 tirst  class  made  light  of  the  message;  the  second  murdered 
 the  messengers.  It  is  intimated  that  while  the  bulk  of 
 those  to  whom  the  Gospel  was  preached,  neglected  the 
 offer  and  busied  themselves  w^ith  earthly  gains,  some  rose 
 against  the  preachers  and  persecuted  them  unto  the  death. 
 These  last,  however,  seem  to  have  been  in  point  of 
 numbers  an  inconsiderable  minority, — "  the  remnant  en- 
 treated them  spitefully  and  slew  them." 
 
 There  were  persecutors  in  the  earliest  days  of  the 
 Gospel,  and  there  have  been  persecutors  in  every  genera- 
 tion since.  The  Pharisees  plotted  that  they  might  put 
 Jesus  to  death  :  Saul  of  Tarsus  at  a  later  date  was  their 
 willing  tool  in  a  desperate  effort  to  quench  the  life  of  the 
 infant  Church  in  the  blood  of  its  members.  After  he  was 
 turned,  and  the  mighty  stream  of  his  hfe  compelled  to  flow 
 like  a  river  of  water  in  the  opposite  direction,  a  constant 
 succession  of  cruel  men  has  been  kept  up  in  this  restless, 
 sin-stained  world,  whose  life-work  is  to  crucify  Christ  in 
 his  members.  The  unchanged,  unrepenting  hierarchy  of 
 Rome,  successor  not  of  Peter  the  apostle,  but  of  Saul  the 
 persecutor,  does  yet  all  that  it  can  and  dare  to  treat 
 spitefully  and  slay  those  servants  of  the  king  who  invite 
 them  and  the  world  to  the  marriage-supper  of  the  King's 
 Son. 
 
 But  the  crucifiers  of  Christ  are  not  all  shedders  of 
 human  blood.  Deadly  emnity  to  the  truth  and  its 
 publishers  may  be  manifested  where  stakes  and  fagots 
 are  out  of  fashion  and  inconvenient.     The  soul  of  the  per- 
 
2  66  THE  ROYAL  MARRIAGE  FEAST. 
 
 sccLition  which  the  parable  represents  Hes  in  entreating 
 spitefully  the  king's  messengers,  because  they  loathed  the 
 invitation,  and  were  irritated  by  the  urgency  wherewith 
 the  servants,  remembering  their  sovereign's  command,  felt 
 themselves  constrained  to  press  it  on  every  man  they  met. 
 In  our  own  day,  it  does  not  require  extraordinary  sagacity 
 to  perceive  the  same  spirit  in  the  relish  and  readiness  with 
 which  certain  classes  catch  up  a  cry  against  any  one  w^ho, 
 not  ashamed  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  has  discharged  his 
 commission  in  full. 
 
 But  when  you  add  together  both  classes  of  open  anta- 
 tagonists, — those  who  shed  the  blood  of  Christians,  and 
 those  who  merely  calumniate  them,  you  have  only  a  very 
 small  company  before  you.  On  the  one  side  I  see  a  little 
 flock, — those  who  meekly  receive  Christ ;  on  the  other  and 
 opposite  side  T  see  also  a  little  flock, — those  who  loudly 
 proclaim  by  word  and  deed,  "  We  will  not  have  this  man  to 
 reign  over  us:"  but  there  is  a  multitude,  whom  no  man  can 
 number,  in  the  midst,  who  neither  accept  the  king's  message 
 nor  persecute  the  servants  of  the  king.  The  character  of 
 the  company  on  either  extreme  is  distinctly  marked,  and 
 easily  seen.  Those  have  manifestly  closed  with  Christ's 
 offer,  and  are  accepted  through  faith  ;  these,  on  the  other 
 hand,  have  considered  the  offer,  and  proved  their  rejection 
 of  it  by  killing  its  bearers.  But  the  multitude  in  the 
 middle  have  not  taken  a  decisive  part ;  they  have  remained 
 apparently  in  a  state  of  equilibrium.  As  yet  they  have 
 not  indeed  actually  and  personally  closed  with  the  Re- 
 deemer as  their  own  ;  but  neither  on  the  other  hand  have 
 they  determined  and  proclaimed  that  they  will  not  accept 
 him.  They  have  not  moved  to  either  side  to  take  a 
 decisive  part  for  or  against  the  Tord.*     This  feature  of 
 
 *  Tliese  three  difTerent  methods  of  treatint:  the  niessa<:e  were  nil  exhibited 
 
PART  L  — THE  WEDDIXG  GUESTS.  267 
 
 their  condition  and  their  history  helps  to  deceive  and  so 
 to  destroy  them.  If  the  condition  of  the  world  and  the 
 law  of  God  were  such  that  all  would  be  safe  in  the  great 
 day  who  did  not  blaspheme  Christ's  name,  and  mock  his 
 Gospel,  and  put  to  death  his  ministers,  this  multitude  in 
 the  middle  might  remain  where  they  are  at  ease.  But 
 this  is  not  the  state  of  the  case  ;  life  and  death  for  us 
 depend  on  our  knowing  and  not  mistaking  the  state  of 
 the  case  here. 
 
 To  all  the  multitude  in  the  middle  the  word  of  a  mer- 
 ciful and  faithful  God  proclaims,  In  order  to  be  saved, 
 it  is  necessary  that  you  should  arise,  and  turn  to  the  right 
 hand,  and  join  the  company  there  who  have  gladly  wel- 
 comed the  Son  of  God  as  their  Saviour  ;  but,  correspond- 
 ingly, in  order  to  be  lost,  it  is  not  necessary  that  you 
 should  arise  from  your  state  of  indifference,  and  join  the 
 scoffer's  ranks.  To  be  saved  you  must  flee  to  the  refuge ; 
 but  to  be  lost,  it  is  enough  that  you  remain  where  you 
 are. 
 
 In  the  Theocracy,  the  Hebrew  nation  were  the  here- 
 ditary nobles.  It  is  said  of  them  in  the  Scriptures  that 
 they  are  a  people  near  unto  God  (Ps.  cxlviii.  14).  They 
 enjoyed  a  right  of  entry  into  the  king's  presence.  Having, 
 in  virtue  of  their  birth-right,  a  perennial  invitation  to  the 
 royal  festivals,  they  needed  only  a  message  as  a  matter 
 of  course,  demanding  their  presence  when  the  feast  was 
 prepared.  The  Gospel  of  grace  complete  in  Christ  is 
 obviously  the  feast  to  which  the  house  of  Israel  were  in 
 the  fulness  of  time  specially  summoned.  When  they  re- 
 fused to  come  to  the  banquet,  the  Provider  was  displeased, 
 
 simultaneously  at   Athens  when   Paul  preached  there  :    "  Some  mocked, 
 
 others  said,  We  will  hear  thee  again  of  this  matter Howbeit,  certain 
 
 men  clave  unto  him  and  believed  "  (Acts  xvii.  32-34). 
 
268  THE  ROYAL  MARRIAGE  EEAST. 
 
 but  not  put  about:  the  Omniscient  knows  his  way.  He 
 never  permits  his  purposes  to  be  thwarted:  He  makes 
 the  wrath  of  man  to  praise  himself,  and  the  remainder  of 
 that  wrath  he  restrains. 
 
 In  the  beginning  of  human  Hfe  and  of  God's  moral 
 go\ernment  on  earth,  the  enemy  seemed  to  triumph. 
 Creation  was  thrown  out  of  joint ;  the  being  made  in  God's 
 image  was  defiled  by  sin.  But  although  the  garden  of 
 Eden  was  emptied,  God  was  not  left  without  a  witness  in 
 the  world  :  sin  abounded,  but  grace  did  much  more 
 abound.  In  like  manner,  at  a  later  stage  of  the  divine 
 administration  when  the  favoured  vine  became  barren, 
 another  was  brought  out  of  Egypt  and  planted  in  its  stead. 
 When  Israel  rejected  Christ,  God  rejected  Israel, and  called 
 another  people  to  be  his  own.  ''  We  have  Abraham  to  our 
 father,"  said  the  Jewish  leaders  to  the  Baptist  when  his 
 lessons  began  to  gall  them,  "  We  have  Abraham  to  our 
 father,"  meaning  thereby  to  intimate  that  they  alone  were 
 the  chosen  people,  and  that  failing  them  God  would  have  no 
 children  on  the  earth.  How  did  John  answer  this  boast  .^ 
 "  Think  not  to  say  within  yourselves.  We  have  Abraham 
 to  our  father;  for  I  say  unto  you  that  God  is  able  of  these 
 stones  to  rai.se  up  children  unto  Abraham"  (Alatt.  iii.  9,  10). 
 
 Although  those  privileged  Hebrews  rejected  him,  Christ 
 did  not  remain  a  king  without  subjects,  a  shepherd  with- 
 out a  flock.  In  the  exercise  of  the  same  sovereignty 
 through  which  he  chose  Abraham  at  first,  he  passed  over 
 Abraham's  degenerate  posterity  and  called  another  family. 
 This  family  was  Abraham's  seed,  not  by  natural  genera- 
 tion, but  in  the  regeneration  through  faith.  Of  these 
 stones  he  raised  up  children  to  Abraham,  when  the  natural 
 children  of  the  family  had  through  unbelief  shut  them- 
 selves out.    "  Go  to  the  highways  :*   Christ  commanded  his 
 
PART  L  — THE   WEDDIXG  GUESTS.  269 
 
 apostles  to  begin  at  Jerusalem  Indeed,  but  he  did  not  en- 
 join,— did  not  permit  them  to  continue  holding  out  their 
 hands  to  a  disobedient  and  gainsaying  people ;  the  alter- 
 native was  embodied  in  their  commission,  If  the  Jews  do 
 not  receive  you,  go  to  the  Gentiles. 
 
 It  becomes  us  to  stand  in  awe  before  these  deep  things  of 
 God  :  their  fall  became  our  risincf.  In  the  channel  throuGfh 
 which  a  running  stream  is  directed  upon  a  mill  wheel  the 
 same  turning  of  a  valve  that  shuts  the  water  out  of  one 
 course  throws  it  into  another,  that  had  previously  been 
 dry;  thus  the  Jew^s  by  rejecting  the  counsel  of  God  shut 
 themselves  out,  and  at  the  same  moment  opened  a  way 
 whereby  mercy  might  flow  to  us  who  were  afar  off. 
 
 The  servants  went  out  and  did  as  they  were  bidden. 
 Peter  went  to  the  house  of  Cornelius,  and  in  that  lane  of 
 the  world's  great  city  found  a  whole  household  willing  to 
 follow  him  to  the  feast  his  royal  master  had  prepared. 
 Soon  thereafter  Paul  and  Barnabas,  Silas,  Titus,  Timothy, 
 and  others  traversed  the  continents  of  Europe  and  Asia, 
 bringing  multitudes  of  neglected  outcasts  into  the  presence 
 and  the  favour  of  the  king. 
 
 "  They  brought  in  good  and  bad."  This  is  a  cardinal 
 point  in  the  method  of  divine  mercy,  and  therefore  it  is 
 articulately  inserted  in  the  picture.  The  scene  is  taken 
 from  life  in  the  world ;  the  conceptions  accordingly,  and 
 the  phraseology  correspond  with  the  circumstances.  In 
 society  at  large,  and  in  every  section  of  society  such  as 
 the  rich  or  the  poor,  two  classes  are  found  distinguished 
 by  their  moral  character,  and  in  ordinary  language  desig- 
 nated the  good  and  the  bad.  The  thought  and  the  style 
 of  ordinary  life  are  adopted  in  the  parable,  and  every  reader 
 understands  easily  what  is  meant.  Every  great  community 
 has  its  virtuous  poor  and  its  vicious  poor.     The  invitations 
 
270  THE  ROYAL  MARRIAGE  EEAST. 
 
 of  the  Gospel  come  to  fallen  human  kind,  and  to  all  without 
 respect  either  of  persons  or  of  characters.  Apart  from 
 Christ  and  prior  to  regeneration  the  distinction  between 
 bad  and  good  is  only  an  earthly  thing:  in  God's  sight  and 
 in  prospect  of  the  judgment,  there  is  none  good,  no  not 
 one.  There  are  not  two  roads  from  earth  to  heaven: 
 there  is  only  one  gate  open,  and  by  it  all  the  saved  enter. 
 It  is  not  the  man's  goodness  that  recommends  him  to 
 God's  favour:  the  worst  is  welcome  through  the  blood  of 
 Christ,  and  the  best  is  rejected  if  he  approach  by  any 
 other  way.  Nor  does  it  follow  thence  that  the  Judge 
 is  indifferent  to  righteousness;  that  which  the  unrecon- 
 ciled offer  to  him  as  righteousness  is  in  his  sight  sin ;  and 
 the  fact  of  offering  it  as  a  ground  of  justification  aggra- 
 vates the  offerer's  guilt. 
 
 PART  II. THE  WEDDING  GARMENT. 
 
 We  have  here  two  parables  in  one.  In  their  union  and 
 relations  they  resemble  the  two  seed-stones  which  are 
 sometimes  found  within  one  fruit,  attached  to  each  other, 
 and  wrapped  in  the  same  envelope,  but  possessing  each 
 its  own  separate  organization,  and  its  own  independent 
 germ  of  life.  The  parable  of  the  prepared,  offered,  and 
 rejected  feast,  and  the  parable  of  the  wedding  garment, 
 although  actually  united  in  the  Lord's  ministry  and  the 
 evangelic  record,  are  in  their  own  nature  distinct,  whether 
 you  consider  the  secular  scenes  delineated  or  the  spiritual 
 lessons  which  they  convey. 
 
 When  the  wedding  was  furnished  with  guests  the  king 
 came  in  to  see  them.  The  representation  is  in  strict  ac- 
 cordance with  the  relations  of  the  parties  and  the  customs 
 of  society  both  in  ancient  and  modern  times.  When  a 
 citizen  entertains  his  equals  he  must  himself  be  first  in 
 
rAK  r  11.  —  77IE  WEDDING  GARMENT.  2  7  i 
 
 the  festal  hall  to  welcome  the  guests  as  they  successively 
 arrive;  but  when  a  sovereign  invites  subjects  to  his  palace 
 he  appears  among  them  only  when  the  company  have  all 
 assembled. 
 
 The  instant  that  he  entered  the  festive  hall  the  king 
 saw  there  a  man  who  had  not  on  a  weddin2--orarment. 
 Although  this  is  the  turning  point  of  the  parable,  it  is  re- 
 presented with  extreme  brevity.  The  great  central  facts 
 are  recorded  with  the  utmost  distinctness,  but  all  the  sur- 
 rounding circumstances  are  in  silence  assumed:  no  ex- 
 planation is  given,  and  the  reason  doubtless  is  that  no 
 explanation  is  needed.  Some  customs  and  allusions  con- 
 nected with  the  scene  remain  obscure  to  us,  after  all  that 
 modern  research  has  done  to  illustrate  them,  but  the  lesson 
 which  our  Lord  intended  to  teach  stands  relieved  in  clearest 
 light  and  sharpest  outline,  like  distant  mountain  tops  when 
 the  sun  has  newly  set  behind  them.  Some  points  regard- 
 ing which  w^e  might  desire  information  are  left  in  the 
 shade,  but  in  as  far  as  the  story  is  necessary  to  unfold 
 and  perpetuate  the  spiritual  lesson,  it  is  accompanied  with 
 no  doubt  and  wuth  very  little  difficulty. 
 
 1.  The  wedding  garment  was  something  conspicuous 
 and  distinctive.  As  soon  as  the  king  entered  the  room 
 he  detected  the  single  man  who  wanted  it  in  a  great  com- 
 pany of  guests. 
 
 2.  It  was  not  a  necessary  part  of  a  man's  clothing,  but 
 rather  a  significant  badge  of  his  loyalty.  The  primary 
 use  of  the  symbol  was  neither  to  keep  the  wearer  warm 
 nor  to  make  him  elegant,  but  to  manifest  his  faithfulness. 
 
 3.  The  want  of  it  was,  and  was  understood  to  be,  a  de- 
 cisive mark  of  disloyalty.  The  man  who  came  to  the 
 feast  without  a  wedding-garment  endorsed  substantially 
 the  act  of  those  who  had  proudly  refused  to  comply  with 
 
27  2  THE  ROYAL  MARRIAGE  FEAST. 
 
 tlic  king's  imitation.  It  was  the  same  heart-disobedience 
 accompanied  by  a  hypocrisy  that  would  fain  commit  the 
 sin  and  yet  escape  the  consequences. 
 
 4.  The  question  ^^•hether  a  wedding-garment  was  prof- 
 fered to  every  guest  as  he  entered,  out  of  the  royal  store, 
 is  attended  with  some  difficulty.  The  preponderance  of 
 probability  seems  to  lie  with  those  who  think  that  these 
 decorations  were  freely  distributed  in  the  vestibule  to  every 
 entrant,  in  some  such  way  as  certain  badges  are  some- 
 times given  to  every  one  of  a  wedding  party  amongst  our- 
 selves in  the  present  day.  But  the  point  is  not  of  primary 
 importance.  From  what  is  tacitly  assumed  in  the  narra- 
 tive it  maybe  held  as  demonstrated  alternatively  that  either 
 the  king  gave  every  guest  the  necessary  garment,  or  it 
 was  such  that  every  guest,  even  the  poorest,  could  on  the 
 shortest  warning  easily  obtain  it  for  himself  Two  silences 
 become  the  two  witnesses  out  of  whose  mouths  this  con- 
 clusion is  established, — the  silence  of  the  king  as  to  the 
 grounds  of  his  sentence,  and  the  silence  of  the  culprit 
 when  judgment  was  pronounced.  The  judge  does  not 
 give  any  reason  why  sentence  should  be  executed,  and 
 the  criminal  does  not  give  any  reason  why  it  should  not. 
 On  both  sides  it  is  confessed  and  silently  assumed  that 
 the  guest  had  not,  but  might  have  had,  the  w^edding-gar- 
 ment  on.  If  there  had  been  any  hardship  in  the  case  the 
 k'ing  would  have  vindicated  his  own  procedure,  and  the 
 condemned  guest  would  not  have  remained  speechless 
 when  he  heard  his  doom.* 
 
 *  "  It  should  be  assumed  that  the  guests  were  not  instantly  hurried  into  the 
 festal  haJ],  but  that  an  opportunity  was  afforded  to  them  of  changmg  their 
 dress.  This,  however,  is  not  expressly  asserted  in  the  narrative,  but  may 
 be  gathered  from  the  term  e^t/Ltoj^?;  (he  was  speechless)  in  ver.  12  ;  and  must  be 
 understood  on  this  account  also,  that,  otherwise  the  sentence  in  ver.  13  would 
 stand  exposed  to  the  charge  of  injustice."— .V/c^rr,  de paraboHs  Christi,  p.  1 13. 
 
PART  IL  — THE  WEDDING  GARMENT.  273 
 
 From  the  circumstances  in  which  that  motley  company- 
 was  collected  and  introduced  into  the  palace,  we  may 
 safely  conclude  that  no  kind  of  clothing,  however  torn 
 and  mean,  would  have  been  counted  a  disqualification. 
 Over  the  whole  surface  of  the  scene  is  spread  the  proof 
 that  nothing  in  the  character  or  condition  of  the  attire 
 which  a  street  porter  or  a  field  labourer  might  happen  to 
 wear,  when  he  was  intercepted  on  the  highway  by  the 
 king's  messengers,  and  hurried  away  to  the  palace  without 
 an  opportunity  of  visiting  his  own  home,  could  possibly 
 have  been  a  ground  of  exclusion.  When  such  persons  in 
 such  circumstances  were  invited  to  the  banquet,  assuredly 
 the  king  was  prepared  to  welcome  them,  as  far  as  dress 
 was  concerned,  precisely  as  his  servants  had  found  them. 
 No  man  forfeited  his  place  at  that  table  on  account  of  any 
 defect  in  the  quality  or  condition  of  the  clothing  which  he 
 wore  when  he  unexpectedly  met  the  messengers  and  was 
 suddenly  hurried  away  to  the  feast.  Thus  far,  treading 
 on  firm  ground,  we  tread  surely. 
 
 Alike  from  the  facts  of  the  case,  from  the  analogy  of 
 others,  and  from  the  corresponding  spiritual  lesson  as 
 elsewhere  declared  in  Scripture,  we  conclude  with  confi- 
 dence that  the  wedding  garment  was  a  well  understood 
 distinctive  badge,  expressive  generally  of  loyalty,  and 
 specifically  constituting  and  declaring  the  wearer's  fitness 
 for  sitting  as  a  guest  at  the  marriage  supper  of  the  king's 
 son.  In  appearance  it  must  have  been  conspicuous  ;  but 
 its  value  may  not  have  been  great.  It  was  not  the  in- 
 herent worth  of  the  material  but  the  meaning  of  the  symbol 
 that  bulked  in  the  estimation  of  both  the  entertainer  and 
 his  guests.  It  may  from  analagous  cases  be  shown  to  be 
 probable  that  a  loyal  heart  could  have  easily  extemporized 
 the  appropriate  symbol  out  of  any  material  that  lay  next 
 
 (9)  IS 
 
274  THE  ROYAL  MARRIAGE  FEAST. 
 
 at  hand.  Where  there  is  a  will  there  is  a  way.  Italian 
 patriots  at  the  crisis  of  their  conflict  with  multiform  op- 
 pression, and  while  the  strong  yoke  of  the  despot  was  still 
 upon  their  necks,  contrived  to  display  their  darling  tricolor 
 by  a  seemingly  accidental  arrangement  of  red,  white,  and 
 green  among  the  vegetables  which  they  exhibited  in  the 
 market  or  carried  to  their  homes.  Nay  more,  the  loyalty 
 of  a  loyal  man  may  in  certain  circumstances  be  more 
 emphatically  expressed  by  a  rude,  extemporaneous  sym- 
 bol, hastily  constructed  of  intractible  materials,  than  by 
 the  most  elaborate  and  leisurely  products  of  the  needle 
 or  the  loom.  In  such  cases,  the  will  of  the  man  is  every- 
 thing; the  wealth  of  the  man  nothing.  The  meanest  rag 
 suddenly  thrown  across  the  shoulders,  arranged  so  as 
 unequivocally  to  express  the  wearer's  faith  may  be  a 
 better  evidence  of  loyalty  than  the  richest  silks  of  the 
 East.* 
 
 Let  us  now  endeavour  to  appreciate  and  express  the 
 spiritual  lesson.  True  to  nature  on  the  earthly  sphere 
 the  parable  represents  the  invitation,  the  assembling  of 
 the  guests,  and  the  entrance  of  the  king,  as  three  several 
 and  successive  acts  ;  but  in  the  processes  of  the  spiritual 
 kingdom  these  three  operations  advance  simultaneously. 
 Some  are  in  the  act  of  hearing  the  invitation, — some  are 
 accepting  it  and  going  to  the  feast, — some  are  sitting  at  the 
 
 '''■  A  custom  connected  with  funerals,  which  prevails  in  some  districts  of 
 England,  if  not  in  all,  approaches  closely  in  some  of  its  essential  features  to 
 that  which  occupies  the  most  conspicuous  place  in  this  parable.  A  scarf  of 
 black  silk,  large,  conspicuous,  and  expensive,  yet  constituting  no  part  of  the 
 proper  garments  of  the  wearer,  is  given  by  the  person  who  invites,  and  worn 
 by  every  one  who  accepts  the  invitation.  A  single  person  without  the 
 badge  in  the  procession  would  be  instantly  detected,  and  the  omission  would, 
 in  the  circumstances,  be  taken  a?  proof  of  disrespect. 
 
PAR T  11.  —  THE  WEDDING  GARMENT.  2  7  5 
 
 table  under  the  inspection  of  the  king, — -all  at  the  same 
 moment.  The  process  is  Hke  the  habit  of  some  species 
 of  fruit  trees,  on  which  flowers,  green  berries,  and  ripe 
 fruit  may  be  seen  at  the  same  time  ;  the  flowers  of  this 
 season  become  the  green  berries  of  the  next,  and  the 
 green  berries  of  this  season  become  the  ripened  fruit  of 
 the  next ;  and  thus  a  constant  succession  is  maintained. 
 In  like  manner,  as  the  generations  pass,  all  the  processes 
 of  Christ's  kingdom  are  simultaneously  carried  forward. 
 
 The  guests  who  have  come  at  the  call  of  the  servants, 
 and  taken  their  places  at  the  table  of  the  king,  are  those 
 who  hear  the  Gospel  and  fall  in  with  its  terms, — who 
 adopt  Christ's  name  and  enrol  themselves  among  his 
 people, — who  hope  in  his  mercy  and  commemorate  his 
 death.  Herein  they  are  broadly  distinguished  from  those 
 who  made  light  of  the  message,  and  those  who  persecuted 
 the  messengers  ;  but  it  is  not  yet  certain  whether  they  are 
 forgiven  and  renewed.  The  profession  which  they  have 
 made  distinguishes  them  from  those  Jews  who  refused 
 the  invitation,  and  those  Gentiles  who  have  not  yet  heard 
 it ;  but  among  those  who  thus  far  comply  with  the  call, 
 another  distinction  must  still  be  made.  That  goodly  heap 
 must  be  tossed  up  and  winnowed  yet  again,  that  the  chaff 
 may  be  driven  before  the  wind,  and  only  the  wheat 
 gathered  into  the  husbandman's  garner. 
 
 As  in  the  parable,  we  are  not  informed  what  were  the 
 shape,  size,  colour,  or  material  of  the  wedding  garment, 
 but  only  that  it  was  necessary  that  every  guest  should 
 wear  it ;  so  we  do  not  find  here  any  specific  doctrinal  in- 
 struction as  to  the  method  of  redemption  and  the  decisive 
 characteristics  of  believers.  We  learn  from  the  parable 
 that  every  sinner  must  simply  comply  with  God's  terms 
 in  order  that  he  may  be  saved  ;  and  elsewhere  in  Scrip- 
 
2^C^  THE  ROYAL  MARRIAGE  FEAST. 
 
 ture  we  are  fully  taught  what  these  terms  are.  An 
 abundant  answer  to  the  question,  "  What  must  I  do  to  be 
 saved  ?"  is  recorded  by  the  Spirit :  the  only  point  regard- 
 ing it  which  this  parable  teaches,  is  that  a  sinner  must 
 abandon  his  own  method,  and  fall  in  with  Christ's.  The 
 meaning  of  the  man  who  sat  at  the  feast  without  a  wedding 
 garment  seems  to  have  been,  "  I  am  my  own  master,  and 
 I  shall  work  my  own  way  to  heaven  :"  the  meaning  of  the 
 men  who  meekly  wore  it  was,  "  We  are  not  our  own  ;  we 
 are  bought  with  a  price;  our  righteousnesses  are  as  filthy 
 rags,  but  the  Lord  is  our  righteousness." 
 
 Thus  the  lesson  of  the  parable  concentrates  itself  at  last 
 upon  a  point ;  but  that  point  is  the  turning-point  of  life 
 or  death  to  men.  Is  any  one  disposed  to  complain  that 
 it  stakes  all  upon  an  opinion  }  It  does,  and  why  not  .'* 
 One  man's  opinion  is  that  his  own  righteousness,  especially 
 when  he  has  gotten  time  to  improve  it,  may  be  safely 
 presented  in  the  judgment,  and  ought  to  satisfy  the  judge. 
 Another  man  counts  all  his  efforts  vile,  as  lacking  the 
 vital  element  of  love,  and  at  God's  command  places  his 
 trust  wholly  in  Christ  his  substitute  :  the  first  does  deepest 
 dishonour,  the  second  gives  highest  glory  to  God.  A 
 man's  opinion  on  a  trifling  subject,  may  be  of  trifling 
 import ;  but  a  man's  opinion — his  mind  on  how  he  may 
 be  just  with  God,  is  the  greatest  and  most  pregnant  fact 
 in  creation.  Opinion  here  is  nothing  less  and  nothing  else 
 than  the  attitude  of  a  fallen  creature  towards  his  Maker 
 and  Judge  :  one  opinion  is  the  alienated  heart  of  a  rebel, 
 another  is  the  glad  trustfulness  of  a  dear  child. 
 
 If  the  head  of  a  Hebrew  family,  on  the  dread  night  of 
 the  Exodus,  had  said  within  himself,  What  shall  I  gain 
 by  sprinkling  a  lamb's  blood  upon  my  door-posts  }  Or, 
 if  a  conspicuous  mark  be  necessary,  may  not  the  blood  of 
 
PART  21.  —  THE   WEDDING  GARMENT.  2 7 7 
 
 this  animal  suffice,  that  was  killed  for  the  use  of  my  family 
 in  the  ordinary  way  ?  If  moved  by  some  self-confident 
 speculations  regarding  the  constancy  of  nature,  he  had 
 entered  through  the  portals  of  the  twilight  into  that  awful 
 night,  he  would  have  perished  while  his  neighbours  were 
 preserved  :  not  that  a  lamb's  blood  had  power  to  save, 
 but  because  this  man  refused  to  take  God's  way  of  being 
 saved,  and  trusted  in  his  own.* 
 
 The  rest  may  be  expressed  in  few  words.  He  sav/ 
 there  a  man  which  had  not  on  a  wedding  garment. 
 Here,  first  of  all,  it  is  not  intimated  that  ordinarily  there 
 is  only  one  hypocrite  in  a  large  company  of  professors  : 
 it  is  no  part  of  the  Lord's  design  in  this  parable  to  tell  us 
 whether  the  false  members  of  the  visible  Church  are  many 
 or  few.  The  single  point  on  which  the  Master  has  fixed 
 his  eye  is  the  certainty  that  the  false  will  be  detected :  the 
 parable  does  not  reveal  their  numbers,  but  it  assures  us 
 that  none  of  them  shall  escape  in  the  crowd.  If  the  re- 
 presentation had  been  that  a  large  proportion,  say  a  half 
 or  three-fourths  of  the  guests,  had  been  detected  at  the 
 table  without  the  appropriate  symbol  of  loving  loyalty  to 
 the  king,  the  omniscience  of  the  visitor,  and  the  certainty 
 of  the  criminal's  doom  would  not  have  been  so  clearly 
 and  strongly  expressed.     That  the  king's  eye  instantly 
 
 *  I  do  not  attach  much  value  to  the  question  which  has  been  much  can- 
 vassed here,  whether  the  wedding  garment  specifrcally  signifies  Faith  or 
 Charity, — whether  it  points  to  what  the  saved  get  from  God,  or  wliat  they 
 do  in  his  service.  To  wear  the  garment  at  the  feast  means  that  the  wearer 
 takes  God's  way  of  salvation  and  not  his  own  ;  to  want  it,  means  that  the 
 wanter  takes  his  own  way  of  salvation  and  not  God's.  This  is  the  conclusion 
 of  the  whole  matter.  If  you  suppose  that  the  garment  means  evangelical 
 obedience,  you  must  assume  that  faith  in  Christ  is  the  root  on  whidi 
 obedience  grows  ;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  you  suppose  that  the  garment  means 
 taith  in  Christ,  you  must  assume  that  it  is  a  Hving  net  a  dead  faith,— a  faith 
 that  will  work  by  love  and  overcome  the  world. 
 
2  7^^  THE  ROYAL  MARRIAGE  EEAST. 
 
 detects  the  undecorated  guest,  although  he  is  only  one  in 
 a  multitude,  is  the  most  emphatic  warning  that  could 
 possibly  be  conveyed  to  the  unbelieving.  None  who  live 
 without  Christ  in  the  world  shall  be  permitted  to  glide 
 into  heaven  with  the  crowd  in  the  great  day.  The  con- 
 stancy of  nature  is  sometimes  wielded  as  a  weapon  of 
 assault  against  revealed  religion  :  it  will  one  day  strike  a 
 heavy  blow  on  the  other  side.  When  a  mixture  of  wheat 
 and  chaff  is  thrown  up  in  the  wind,  the  solid  grains  drop 
 down  on  the  spot,  and  the  light  chaff  is  driven  away. 
 You  never  expect,  in  such  a  case,  that  to  please  some 
 fancy  of  yours,  the  solid  grain  will  fly  away  on  the  wings 
 of  the  blast,  and  the  chaff  drop  down  at  your  feet.  The 
 constancy  of  nature  prevents.  Well ;  by  a  law  as  constant 
 and  changeless — a  law  of  the  same  God,  reigning  over  the 
 world  of  spirit,  *'  the  wicked  is  driven  away  in  his  wicked- 
 ness, but  the  righteous  hath  hope  in  his  death  "  (Prov.  xiv.  3  2). 
 He  was  speechless.  The  judgment  will  be  so  conducted 
 that  the  condemned  will  be  compelled  to  own  the  justice 
 of  their  sentence.  Conscience,  brought  again  into  contact 
 with  God,  will  be  awakened  and  restored  to  the  exercise  of 
 its  functions;  like  a  mirror  it  will  receive  and  repeat  the 
 decree  of  the  Judge.  Persecutors  were  wont  to  gag  their 
 victims  while  they  burnt  them  ;  it  was  found  necessary  to 
 put  iron  on  the  tongues  of  the  witnesses,  to  make  them 
 silent  while  they  suffered.  No  such  clumsy  device  is  needed 
 in  the  assize  which  the  righteous  God  will  hold  upon  the 
 world.  Conscience  swelling  within  will  stifle  the  complaint 
 of  the  guilty.  The  courage  of  the  despiser  will  fail  :  the 
 last  poor  comfort  of  the  blasphemer,  to  hurl  against  the 
 judgment  seat  the  last  despairing,  defiant  word,  will  be 
 taken  away.  The  history  of  the  fact  written  by  divine 
 prescience  before  the  time,  makes  no  mention  of  what  the 
 
PART  IL  — THE  WEDDING  GARMENT.  279 
 
 condemned  will  say.     The  record  simply  runs,  "These 
 shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment." 
 
 "  Outer  darkness:"  tell  us  in  detail  what  the  condition 
 the  outcast  will  be,  and  what  will  be  the  constituents  of 
 their  suffering  .!*  We  cannot.  Rome  has  impiously  traded 
 upon  this  weakness  of  humanity.  She  has  parcelled  out 
 her  purgatory,  as  we  delineate  this  upper  world  on  a  map. 
 This  is  the  machinery  whereby  she  is  enabled  to  traffic 
 in  the  souls  of  men.  No  ;  that  condition  lies  in  outer 
 darkness  ;  I  cannot  see  through  the  veil,  and  tell  the 
 specific  sufferings  that  lie  beneath  it.  My  Lord  has  told 
 me  that  it  is  in  outer  darkness  ;  but  he  has  covered  it 
 from  my  sight.  He  hath  done  all  things  well.  He  often 
 warns  us  that  the  wicked  shall  be  cast  away ;  but  he  never 
 tells  us  the  particulars  of  their  torments.  For  teaching 
 about  this  terror  let  me  listen  to  his  word ;  for  safety  from 
 it,  let  me  hide  in  his  bosom. 
 
THE  TEN  VIRGINS  AND  THE  ENTRUSTED 
 TALENTS. 
 
 Matt.  xxv.  i-^o. 
 
 |OTH  historically  and  logically  the  two  parables, 
 of  the  ten  virgins  and  of  the  talents,  are  con- 
 nected and  constitute  a  group :  in  place  they 
 are  contiguous,  and  in  nature  they  are  recipro- 
 rocally  complements  of  each  other,  making  together  a 
 complete  whole.  De  Valenti  has  by  a  happy  generaliza- 
 tion placed  their  relations  in  an  interesting  and  instructive 
 light.  He  points  out  that  there  are  two  kinds  of  almost- 
 Christians,  the  bustling  labourers,  and  the  mystic 
 dreamers.  One  class  tries  to  live  on  works  without 
 faith,  and  the  other  on  faith  without  works.  From  oppo- 
 site causes  both  efforts  fail.  The  parable  of  the  ten 
 virgins  addresses  its  warning  to  the  Almost-Christianity 
 which  is  all  body  with  no  spirit ;  and  the  parable  of  the 
 talents  addresses  its  warning  to  the  Almost-Christianity 
 which  is  all  spirit  with  no  body. 
 
 These  constitute  a  pair ;  or  rather  they  are  the  right 
 and  left  sides  of  one  living  lesson.  Both  represent  the 
 character  and  condition  of  the  Church  and  its  members, 
 while  they  wait  for  the  coming  of  the  Lord  ;  both  apply 
 decisive  tests  to  a  seemly  profession,  and  thereby  separate 
 between  the  true  and  the  false:  but  they  differ  in  that 
 the  first  searches  the  heart,  and  the  second  examines  the 
 life.     The  first  test  detects  the  want  of  secret  faith  ;  the 
 
THE  TEN  VIRGINS,  ETC.  281 
 
 second  the  want  of  active  obedience.  The  parable  of  the 
 ten  virgins  prepares  and  throws  into  the  mass  of  Christian 
 profession  a  solvent  which  serves  to  determine  whether 
 and  where  there  is  life  in  the  Lord  ;  the  parable  of  the 
 entrusted  talents  prepares  and  throws  into  the  mass  of 
 Christian  profession  a  solvent  which  serves  to  determine 
 whether  and  where  there  is  Xii^for  the  Lord. 
 
 These  two, — the  inward  grace  of  faith  and  the  outward 
 life  of  obedience,  constitute  the  two  sides, — the  right  and 
 left  of  the  new  man.  To  that  new  man  as  a  whole  both 
 parables  alike  refer ;  but  the  one  touches  him  for  testing 
 on  the  right  side,  and  the  other  on  the  left.  The  first 
 tests  his  works  by  his  faith,  and  the  second  tests  his  faith 
 by  his  works.  The  first  goes  directly  to  the  root  and  in- 
 quires whether  the  tree  is  good  or  bad ;  thus  determining 
 what  the  character  of  the  fruit  must  be;  the  second  goes 
 first  to  the  fruit,  and  by  its  sweetness  or  bitterness  ascer- 
 tains the  character  of  the  tree.  The  parable  of  the  ten 
 virgins  speaketh  on  this  wise, — If  there  be  true  faith  in 
 the  heart,  there  will  be  active  obedience  in  the  life :  the 
 parable  of  the  talents  speaketh  on  this  wise, — If  there  be 
 active  obedience  in  the  life,  there  must  be  a  root  of  faith 
 unseen  whereon  that  good  fruit  grows. 
 
XIIL 
 
 THE  TEN  VIRGINS. 
 
 '  Then  shall  the  kingdom  of  heaven  be  likened  unto  ten  virgins,  which  took  their  lamps, 
 and  went  forth  to  meet  the  bridegroom.  And  five  of  them  were  wise,  and  five  were 
 foolish.  They  that  were  foolish  took  their  lamps,  and  took  no  oil  with  them :  but  the 
 wise  took  oil  in  their  vessels  with  their  lamps.  While  the  bridegroom  tarried,  they  all 
 slumbered  and  slept.  And  at  midnight  there  was  a  cry  made,  Behold,  the  bridegroom 
 Cometh ;  go  ye  out  to  meet  him.  Then  all  those  virgins  arose,  and  trimmed  their 
 lamps.  And  the  foolish  said  unto  the  wise.  Give  us  of  your  oil ;  for  our  lamps  are 
 gone  out.  But  the  wise  answered,  saying.  Not  so  ;  lest  there  be  not  enough  for  us  and 
 you  :  but  go  ye  rather  to  them  that  sell,  and  buy  for  yourselves.  And  while  they  went 
 to  buy,  the  bridegroom  came ;  and  they  that  were  ready  went  in  with  him  to  the  mar- 
 riage :  and  the  door  was  shut.  Afterward  came  also  the  other  virgins,  saying.  Lord, 
 Lord,  open  to  us.  But  he  answered  and  said.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  1  know 
 you  not." — Matt.  xxv.  1-12. 
 
 ERE  is  one  of  the  larger  and  grander  pictures 
 in  this  gallery  of  various  glory.  It  is  sublime 
 in  its  ample  outline,  and  exquisitely  tender  in 
 its  details.  It  is  charged  with  many  precious 
 lessons,  which  flow  freely  at  the  gentlest  touch ;  and  it  is 
 cruel  to  put  it  to  the  torture  to  compel  it  to  give  mean- 
 ings which  it  never  received  from  its  author. 
 
 The  painful  search  for  precisely  identical  customs  in 
 eastern  countries  and  ancient  times  is  here,  for  the  most 
 part,  unnecessary  and  unprofitable.  The  usages  inciden- 
 tally photographed  in  such  a  parable  as  this  are  indeed 
 true  sections  of  the  place  and  the  time,  but  others,  agree- 
 ing in  general  character  though  differing  in  detail,  might 
 have  been  substituted  in  perfect  consistency  wnth  the 
 circumstances.     There  is  some  elasticity  even  in  Oriental 
 
THE  TEN  VIRGINS.  283 
 
 manners.  It  is  not  probable  that  all  marriages  were  con- 
 ducted on  precisely  the  same  plan.  There  might,  for 
 aught  I  know,  be  a  difference  between  a  wedding  among 
 the  rich  and  a  wedding  among  the  poor,  and  another 
 difference  between  the  method  of  celebrating  a  marriage 
 in  the  city  and  the  country, — in  Galilee  and  Judea.  In 
 examining  analogous  cases,  I  would  look  for  similarity  of 
 style  rather  than  identity  of  individual  features.  Look- 
 ing on  the  parable  of  the  ten  virgins  as  a  grand  original, 
 I  don't  trouble  myself  with  the  work  of  hunting  for  cor- 
 roboration of  its  truth  or  explanations  of  its  meaning 
 in  the  form  of  identical  observances  recorded  in  other 
 books. 
 
 The  more  important  portion  of  the  nuptial  ceremonies 
 were  performed  at  night.  They  consisted  in  a  great 
 measure  of  processions  along  the  road  and  festivals  with- 
 in the  dwelling.  The  out-door  part  of  the  pageant  is  of 
 course  conducted  by  torch-light.  A  small  cup,  filled  with 
 rags  and  resin,  is  affixed  to  a  rod,  that  it  may  be  held 
 aloft.  At  the  proper  time  the  rags  are  lighted,  and  the 
 flame  is  fed  from  time  to  time  by  pouring  oil  into  the 
 cup.  Each  processionist  carries  such  a  lamp,  and  the 
 many  separate  lights  dancing  and  crossing  each  other, 
 and  changing  places  as  the  bearers  advance  on  the  undu- 
 lating and  tortuous  path,  impart  great  liveliness  to  the 
 joyful  nocturnal  scene. 
 
 From  the  nature  of  the  case  there  must  be  two  succes- 
 sive processions,  one  in  which  the  bridegroom  with  his 
 friends  goes  for  the  bride  to  her  father's  house,  and  another 
 in  which  bride  and  bridegroom,  together  with  the  friends 
 of  both  families,  march  to  the  future  home  of  the  married 
 pair.  There  was  more  or  less  of  ceremonial  and  feasting 
 in  either  mansion.     It  is  not  certainly  known,  and  the 
 
284  THE  TEN  VIRGhYS. 
 
 knowledge  would  not  be  important  although  it  were 
 obtained,  whether  the  principal  feast  was  held  in  the 
 home  of  the  bride's  father  or  in  that  of  the  bridegroom. 
 It  is  probable  that  the  practice  in  this  matter  varied 
 according  to  the  wealth  of  the  parties  and  the  capacities 
 of  the  several  mansions.  In  one  case  the  father  of  the 
 bride,  and  in  another  the  bridegroom,  might  possess  the 
 more  commodious  dwelling,  and  be  more  able,  in  virtue 
 of  ampler  resources,  to  entertain  the  company.  I  am  not 
 aware  that  there  is  any  ascertained  law  or  habit  of 
 the  places  and  times  demanding  that  the  principal  feast 
 should  be  always  given  by  the  father  or  by  the  bride- 
 groom. 
 
 In  this  case  there  is  nothing  in  the  narrative  that  deter- 
 mines with  certainty  whether  the  bridegroom,  w^hen  the 
 ten  virgins  waited  for  him,  was  on  his  w^ay  for  the  bride 
 to  her  father's  house  or  with  her  to  his  own.  On  the 
 whole,  the  balance  of  probability  inclines  to  the  side  of 
 those  who  think  that  this  is  the  procession  coming  for 
 the  bride  rather  than  the  procession  returning  w^ith  her. 
 The  particular  expression,  ''  The  bridegroom  cometh," 
 among  other  circumstances,  points  in  this  direction. 
 Lange's  conception  commends  itself  as  probable  that  the 
 virgins  are  in  some  sense  representatives  of  the  bride, 
 that  they  go  forth  to  meet  the  bridegroom,  that  he  has 
 come  from  afar,  and  that  some  unexpected  delays  have 
 occurred  on  the  journey. 
 
 The  house  whose  door  was  shut  ere  the  foolish  five  came 
 up  was  obviously  the  house  in  which  the  grand  marriage 
 festival  was  held :  to  be  shut  out  of  that  house  was  to 
 be  shut  out  from  the  marriage. 
 
 When  the  curtain  rises  and  the  scene  is  first  displayed, 
 we  behold  ten  young  women,  adorned  according  to  the 
 
THE  TEN  VIRGINS.  285 
 
 fashion  of  the  time,  hngering  in  a  group  by  the  wayside 
 at  night  in  the  warm  chmate  of  Palestine. 
 
 They  may  have  been  the  young  companions  of  the 
 bride,  a  selected  ten,  specially  invited  to  meet  the  bride- 
 groom on  the  way,  and  enter  with  him  into  the  festal 
 hall, — a  group  in  character  and  constituents  closely  cor- 
 responding to  the  bridesmaids  at  our  marriage  feasts, — 
 or  they  may  have  been  the  daughters  of  neighbouring 
 families,  sent  by  their  parents,  or  going  of  their  own 
 accord,  in  compliance  with  the  custom  of  the  place,  to 
 offer  a  tribute  of  respect  and  affection  to  the  bride  and 
 bridegroom  on  their  marriage-day. 
 
 This  feature  of  the  scene,  although  in  itself  subordinate 
 and  incidental,  derives  great  importance  from  the  subse- 
 quent development  of  the  parable:  it  becomes  the  hinge 
 on  which  the  lesson  turns.  From  the  circumstance  that 
 a  portion  of  the  company  neither  came  wdth  the  bride- 
 groom nor  waited  in  the  house  for  his  arrival,  but  went 
 out  to  meet  him,  all  the  tender  and  solemn  teaching  of 
 this  parable  has  sprung.* 
 
 *  The  closest  analogue  that  I  know  of  the  fact  which  plays  so  great  a 
 part  in  the  structure  of  this  scriptural  lesson  may  be  found  in  a  custom  which 
 prevails  at  funerals  in  the  rural  districts  of  Scotland.  When  the  distance 
 between  the  house  of  the  deceased  and  the  cemetery  is  considerable,  a  com- 
 mon, perhaps  I  should  say  a  uniform,  practice  is,  that  those  friends  of  the 
 mourning  family  who  reside  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  burying  place 
 assemble  in  a  group  at  a  convenient  turning  of  the  road,  and  wait  till  the 
 funeral  procession  reaches  the  spot ;  they  then  silently  fall  into  their  places 
 and  follow  the  corpse  to  the  grave.  I  like  the  analogy  none  the  less  that 
 it  is  taken,  not  from  a  time  of  mirth,  but  from  a  time  of  weeping.  The  two 
 cases  coincide  in  all  their  features  except  one.  In  either  example  we  have 
 an  occasion  of  absorbing  interest  to  one  family,  and  the  sympathy  of  neigh- 
 bours expressed  by  means  of  large  assemblies  and  public  processions.  In  a 
 minor  but  characteristic  feature  there  is  an  exact  coincidence, — a  portion  or 
 the  sympathizing  neighbours  wait  for  the  main  body  at  a  point  on  the  path 
 and  fall  into  the  line  of  march  from  that  spot  to  the  terminus.  That  the 
 one  is  a  joyful  and  the  other  a  mournful  group  enhances  rather  than  dimi- 
 nishes the  value  of  the  comparison. 
 
2S6  THE  TEN  VIRGINS. 
 
 Waiting  long  without  employment,  the  group  of  maidens 
 would  stand,  and  sit,  and  recline  by  turns.  Each  holds 
 a  tiny  torch  in  her  hand,  or  has  laid  it  on  the  ground  by 
 her  side.  As  the  night  wears  on,  the  conversation  that 
 had  at  first  been  animated,  gradually  dies  away,  and  one 
 by  one  the  wearied  damsels  drop  over  into  snatches  of 
 slumber.  Before  midnight  they  have  all  sunk  into  a  con- 
 tinuous sleep.  At  midnight  a  cry  arose,  apparently  from 
 some  more  wakeful  watcher  in  the  neighbourhood, 
 "Behold  the  Bridegroom  cometh;  go  ye  out  to  meet  him." 
 At  this  alarm  the  whole  band  awake  simultaneously 
 and  spring  to  their  feet.  Each  maiden  hastily  snatches 
 up  her  torch ;  not  one  of  them  burns  brightly  now  ;  some 
 are  flickering  low,  and  some  are  altogether  extinguished. 
 In  a  moment,  all  those  nimble  young  hands  begin  to  ply 
 the  work  of  trimming  the  expired  or  expiring  lamps.  All 
 alike  are  able  to  touch  them  skilfully,  but  the  main  want 
 with  every  lamp  is  a  new  supply  of  oil.  Some  can  supply 
 that  want  at  the  moment  on  the  spot,  while  others  cannot. 
 Those  who  had  brought  from  home  a  supply  of  oil  in 
 separate  vessels,  found  it  easy  to  make  the  flame  of  their 
 torches  burn  up  as  brightly  as  ever;  but  those  who  had 
 neglected  to  provide  such  a  supply  could  not  with  all 
 their  efforts  revive  the  dead  or  dying  light.  "  Give  us,"  said 
 the  five  improvident  maidens,  ''give  us  of  your  oil,  for  our 
 lamps  are  gone  out."  The  more  thoughtful,  and  there- 
 fore more  fortunate  watchers,  while  they  pitied  their  sisters, 
 were  afraid  to  part  with  any  portion  of  their  own  stores, 
 lest  they  should  be  left  in  the  same  hapless  condition  ere 
 the  procession  should  close :  "  Go  to  them  that  sell,  and 
 buy  for  yourselves."  Alas,  this  was  now  the  only  alter- 
 native! Away  went  those  foolish  virgins  at  the  dead  oi 
 night  on  the  hopeless  errand  of  buying  oil  for  immediate 
 
THE   TEN  VIRGINS.  287 
 
 use  in  the  shops  of  the  neighbouring  town.  The  folly, 
 however,  lay  not  in  this  latest  act;  this  was  now  their 
 only  resource.  The  foolish  deed  was  done  in  the  day 
 time,  and  before  the  cry  arose,  Behold  the  bridegroom 
 Cometh. 
 
 As  soon  as  the  foolish  five  had  gone,  the  procession 
 came  up,  and  they  that  were  ready  fell  into  their  places. 
 The  new  accession,  each  bearing  a  flaming  torch  aloft, 
 increased  the  grandeur  of  the  scene.  When  the  company 
 reached  the  house,  they  all  entered  with  the  bridegroom, 
 and  the  door  was  shut.  Some  time  afterwards  the  five 
 who  had  gone  away  in  search  of  oil,  returned  and  pleaded 
 for  admission  ;  but  they  pleaded  in  vain.  Within  the 
 house  the  glad  festival  went  forward  ;  but  those  who  came 
 too  late  were  not  admitted. 
 
 The  story  at  its  close  is  indebted  for  its  deep  pathos, 
 not  to  anything  inherent  in  itself,  but  to  the  sublime 
 lesson  which  it  conveys.  The  Lord's  great  parable,  like 
 the  Lord's  great  apostle,  is  "weak  and  contemptible^'  in 
 its  bodily  presence ;  but  the  letters  in  which  it  writes  its 
 meaning  are  like  his,  "  weighty  and  powerful."  A  few 
 country  girls  arriving  too  late  for  a  marriage,  and  being 
 therefore  excluded  from  the  festival,  is  not  in  itself  a  great 
 event :  but  I  know  not  any  words  in  human  language 
 that  teach  a  more  piercing  lesson  than  the  conclusion  of 
 this  similitude.  The  frame  is  constructed  of  common 
 materials  ;  the  sublimity  lies  in  the  spiritual  truth  which 
 that  frame  sustains.  This  conception,  like  that  of  the  hen 
 gathering  her  chickens  under  her  wing,  seems  so  common 
 and  so  common-place,  that  we  would  not  have  ventured 
 in  dignified  discourse  to  employ  it;  in  the  hands  of  Jesus 
 the  similitude  becomes  at  once  tender  and  terrible  in  the 
 
sSS  rilE  TEN  VIRGINS. 
 
 highest  degree.  At  his  word  the  world  sprang  from 
 nothing;  we  need  not  be  surprised  to  find  that  under  his 
 touch  small  things  become  great. 
 
 I  think  no  symbolic  character  should  be  attributed  to 
 the  virgins,  as  such,  in  the  interpretation  of  the  parable ; 
 it  is  when  they  take  their  lamps  and  go  forth  to  meet  the 
 bridegroom  that  they  first  acquire  a  spiritual  significance. 
 The  whole  group  represent  that  portion  of  any  community 
 who  hear  the  Gospel,  accept  its  terms,  and  profess  to  be 
 the  disciples  of  Christ.  The  sincerity  and  depth  of  their 
 profession  will  be  tested  afterwards ;  but  in  the  meantime, 
 both  in  their  own  opinion  and  that  of  their  neighbours, 
 they  are  all  alike  Christians.  The  structure  of  the 
 parable  required  virgins  in  this  place,  in  order  that  the 
 picture  might  be  true  to  nature  ;  in  the  customs  appar- 
 ently of  all  times  and  all  countries,  this  position  at  a 
 marriage  feast  is  assigned  to  young  unmarried  women. 
 The  ancient  practice  of  the  East  is,  in  its  essential  features, 
 reproduced  among  ourselves  from  day  to  day  In  the  troop 
 of  virgins,  dressed  in  white,  who  attend  the  bride  on  her 
 bridal  day.  I  cannot  acquiesce  in  the  view  of  those  who 
 see  in  the  special  condition  of  these  watchers  a  symbol 
 of  the  purity  which  becomes  the  followers  of  Christ,  for  I 
 find,  as  I  read  onward  in  the  parable,  that  while  the  ten 
 were  in  respect  to  condition  all  equal,  in  as  far  as  they 
 represent  spiritual  relations,  five  are  symbols  of  sincerity, 
 and  five  are  symbols  of  deceit.  The  condition  of  virgins 
 which  was  common  to  all,  cannot,  without  complete  con- 
 fusion of  ideas,  be  made,  within  the  compass  of  the  same 
 allegory,  to  signify  both  the  true  and  the  false.  From 
 the  procession  of  virgins,  therefore,  I  obtain  no  more  than 
 I    would  have    obtained   from   a   procession   of  men   or 
 
THE  TEN  VIRGINS.  289 
 
 matrons,  if  the  habits  of  society  had  permitted  sucli  a 
 representation  to  have  been  made.* 
 
 They  took  their  lamps  and  went  forth  to  meet  the  bride- 
 groom ;  this  represents  an  open,  intelHgent,  and  seemly 
 profession  of  faith  in  Christ.  As  all  the  lamps  burned  at 
 first  with  equal  brightness,  and  no  suspicion  of  a  defect 
 occurred  either  to  the  wise  or  the  unwise,  we  learn  that 
 the  profession  which  never  had  life  may  appear  so  well 
 favoured  for  a  time,  that  neither  the  false  professor  nor 
 his  converted  neighbour  may  be  aware  of  its  shallowness. 
 
 "To  meet  the  bridegroom;"  the  parable  and  the  dis- 
 course which  precedes  it,  bear  upon  Christ's  second 
 coming,  and  the  attitude,  which  becomes  his  disciples  in 
 prospect  of  that  decisive  event.  They  who  have  been 
 washed  in  his  blood  love  his  appearing. 
 
 No  difference  between  class  and  class  was  as  yet  mani- 
 fest ;  but  already  the  causes  which  subsequently  wrought 
 the  separation  had  begun  to  operate  in  secret,  and  here 
 accordingly  they  are  recorded  by  the  Lord  ;  "  five  of 
 them  were  wise,  and  five  of  them  were  foolish."  I  stand 
 in  awe  of  this  dividing  word.  While  the  whole  band 
 take  part  in  the  loyal  exodus,  and  all  seem  equal  in  zeal 
 and  love,  the  Searcher  of  hearts  already  perceives  and 
 pronounces  that  some  of  them  are  wise  unto  salvation, 
 and  some  are  so  foolish  that  they  are  throwing  away  their 
 souls.  That  same  Lord  looks  on  the  ten  thousand  times 
 ten  thousand  who  in  our  times  go  out  to  meet  the  bride- 
 groom. There  is  not  a  more  grand  or  a  more  beautiful 
 spectacle   on  earth   than    a    great   assembly  reverently 
 
 *  Lange's  view  on  this  point  seems  sound  and  consistent  ;  while  both 
 Olshausen  and  Stier  endeavour  with  much  pain  but  little  fruit,  to  prove  thai 
 the  foolish  represent  true  but  defective  disciples.  *'  One  part  of  the  Church 
 is  living,  while  the  other  lives  only  in  appearance,  because  it  lives  only  to 
 appearance. " — Lange. 
 
 (9)  19 
 
?90  THE  TEN  VIRGINS. 
 
 worshipping  God  together.  No  line  visible  to  human  eye 
 divides  into  two  parts  the  goodly  company;  yet  the 
 goodly  company  is  divided  into  two  parts.  The  Lord 
 re-ids  our  character,  and  marks  our  place.  The  Lord 
 knoweth  them  that  are  his,  and  them  also  that  are  not 
 his,  in  every  assembly  of  worshippers. 
 
 The  distinguishing  feature  is  now  specifically  set  down, 
 — the  wise  carried  each  a  separate  vessel  containing  a  sup- 
 ply of  oil,  that  they  might  keep  the  flame  of  their  lamps 
 alive,  however  long  the  bridegroom  might  tarry :  the  foolish, 
 satisfied  that  their  lamps  were  burning  at  the  moment, 
 laid  in  no  supply  for  future  need.  This  is  the  turning- 
 point  of  the  parable,  and  in  the  light  of  subsequent  events 
 its  spiritual  import  may  be  determined  with  precision  and 
 certainty.  The  oil  in  the  lamp,  and  the  flame  which  it 
 sustained,  indicate  a  seemly  Christian  profession ;  this  the 
 virgins  all  possessed,  and  all  alike.  The  quality  that  tested 
 and  divided  them,  lay  not  in  the  burning  lamps  but  in  the 
 supply  vessels.  The  oil,  whether  employed  to  anoint  a 
 person  or  to  feed  a  flame,  represents,  in  Old  Testament 
 typology,  the  Holy  Spirit.  That  which  the  wise  virgins 
 carried  in  their  vessels,  as  distinguished  from  that  which 
 burned  in  their  lamps,  points  to  the  Spirit  as  a  spirit  of 
 grace  and  supplication  dwelling  in  a  believer's  heart.  All 
 experienced  convictions,  and  made  profession,  as  is  indi- 
 cated by  the  lamps  lighted  and  borne  aloft;  but  some  had 
 nothing  more  than  convictions  and  professions,  while  others 
 had  passed  from  death  unto  life  and  had  gotten  their  life, 
 through  the  Spirit's  ministry,  "hid  with  Christ  in  God." 
 This  will  more  fully  appear  as  we  proceed  stage  by  stage 
 with  the  interpretation. 
 
 "  The  bridegroom  tarried."  For  a  special  purpose,  the 
 Lord  represents  that  the  bridegroom  lingered  till  a  much 
 
THE  TEN  VIRGINS.  291 
 
 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  to 
 slumbersinfully  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- 
 ceived 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 
 
292  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  history  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. 
 
 At  this  point  the  decisive  difference  w^hich  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  fur 
 
294  TJIE  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 
 tliey  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  ot 
 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  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 
 tti.ich  he  could  give  a  portion  to  another. — Anidl,  ii.  177. 
 
296  THE  TEN  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  savino- 
 
 grace  from  his  overflowing  heart;  he  did  not  know  tliem 
 
 by  feeling  their  weight,  like  John's,  leaning  on  his  breast. - 
 
 After  4:he  parable  is  finished  the  marrow  of  its  meaning 
 
 is  given   in  one  short  sentence  by  the   Lord  :  "  Watch 
 
 therefore,  for  ye  know  neither  the  day  nor  the  hour  wherein 
 
 the  Son  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  a  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  Holv 
 Supper  :  ah,  the  feast  is  to  him  not  a  feast  of  blessings,  but  an  eatina  Jf 
 judgment.  Perhaps  he  prays  to  the  Lord  himself:  the  Lord  answe)^  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  Chnst,  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  our 
 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."— C/.7V//;//.w. 
 
298  THE  TEN  VIRGIMS. 
 
 unto  salvation  in  the  beginning  of  our  days.  The  Hght- 
 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  them  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. 
 
 HE  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. 
 
 tcrval  that  they  may  yield  to  him  the  largest  profit  at 
 his  return.  Two  distinct  principles  were  open  to  his 
 choice  corresponding  to  the  methods  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  allow^ed  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 
 witli  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 
 \'irgins  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. 
 
102  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,  in 
 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  t  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 
 
 1/ 
 
304  THE  ENTRUSTED   TALENTS. 
 
 those  who  have  few  talents  are  more  hable  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  wdll  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  w^ho  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. 
 
 I.  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 
 (9)  20 
 
ZoG  THE  ENTRUSTED  TALENTS. 
 
 feature  of  the  story,  and  a  very  precious  lesson  to  us 
 regarding  the  deep  things  of  God.  Through  this  opening 
 hght  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  fulfiUing  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.  307 
 
 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  deter- 
 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  deserv^e  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 
 
3o3  llIE  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  comparatively  small  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  EXTRUSTED  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  awa}'. 
 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  b\' 
 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 
 
3IO  TJIE  KXTRUSTED   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; 
 — }'0u  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 
 ilarkness  :  there  shall  be  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth.'' 
 
THE  ENTRUSTED  TALENTS.  311 
 
 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"  for 
 God. 
 
XV. 
 
 THE  SEED  GROWING  SECRETLY. 
 
 And  he  said,  So  is  the  kingdom  of  God,  as  if  a  man  should  cast  seed  into  tlie  ground  ; 
 and  should  sleep,  and  rise  night  and  day,  and  the  seed  should  spring  and  grow  up,  he 
 knoweth  not  how.  For  the  earth  bringeth  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  GROWIXG  SEC  RE  TLY.  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, 
 
314  THE  SEED  GROWLXG  SECRETLY. 
 
 "he  knew  what  was  in  man;"  and  we  learn,  from  many 
 circumstances  in  the  evangeHc  history,  that  he  knew  the 
 thoughts  ahke  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  accepting  the  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 
 tlie  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.  315 
 
 reaping,  which  must,  as  they  suppose,  be  the  work  of  the 
 Lord  at  his  second  coming.  In  this  way  they  become 
 involved  between  two  impossibihties.  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  may  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 
 
3i6  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.  "Sernio  concisus.  Mittet  fake  preditos,  nam  aTroo"- 
 rcXXeo-^ai  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,"  (aTroo-reXXet,  "sends  out,")  refers  to 
 a  living  person,  and  not  an  inanimate  instrument.  Countenance  for  this 
 view  might  be  found  in  Matt.  ix.  37  where  eKJSakeiu  equivalent  to  airoareX- 
 Xea^at  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  irefi/xTeiv  and  ^aWeiv,  "  thrust  in"  (the  sickle)  are  certainly  applied 
 to  the  instrument  itself,  and  not  to  the  men  who  wield  it. 
 
THE  SEED  GK OWING  SFXRETL Y.  317 
 
 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  sow^er  sow^s  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  w^ork  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 
 tlie  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  impHes 
 no  culpable  negligence  either  in  the  natural  or  spiritual  sphere.  "Simi 
 wir  am  Tage  recht  wach  ;  dann,  mogen  wir  Nachts  ruhig  schlafen."— 
 Dmscke,  vom  Reich  G. 
 
3i3  THE  SEED  GROWING  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.  lie  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   GRO  WING  SEC  RE  TL  V.  319 
 
 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  GROJVEVG  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  cari  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  prayers  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  GN O I VEXG  SE CRE  7EY.  321 
 
 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 
 sefciety  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  pointsjoiar^r-^ethe 
 turning-point  of  your  destiny.  ^<>'. 
 
 The  seea  grows  gradually  ^pai^age  to  stage.  Three 
 stages  are  ^ecified  ;  fir^^-^lie  blade,  then  the  ear,  then 
 the  full  cornX  in  the^c^.  This  does  not  determine  the 
 time  occupieoHithe  spiritual  process.  In  this  respect 
 there  is  not  uniformity :  the  spiritual  growth  from  spring 
 to  maturity  sohietimes  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 
 
12  2  THE  SEED  GROWING  SECRETLY. 
 
 There  is  a  similar  ambiguity,  in  as  far  as  appearance  i= 
 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  Lidia,  fertil- 
 izincr  a  continent. 
 
THE  SEED  GR 0  WING  SE ORE TLY.  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. 
 
 I.  The  work  of  sowing  and  the  joy  of  reaping  advance 
 siiiiultaneously  on  the  spiritual  field.     The  labour  of  tlie 
 
324  THE  SEED  GROIVEVG  SEC  REEL  Y. 
 
 luisbandmaii  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  ma\^ 
 be  carried  away  by  wild  birds,  or  whither  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,  \\\\\  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  sow^ers,  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,  w^hile  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  intc 
 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 
 nxve  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.  WTierefore  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. 
 
 N  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  events  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  endca\'our  to  determine  precisely  the  character 
 of  the  sev^eral  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  characteFand 
 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  X\{^,  by 
 
iS^  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  w^hich  by  the  Gospel  is  preached  unto  us  still. 
 
 The  natural  history  of  conversion  does  not  change  with 
 tlie  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.  ^tl'^ 
 
 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  thj 
 entrance  of  a   person   unbidden  is  concerned,  there  was 
 
332  Tim   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  M-ith  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  01* 
 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  I 
 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." — Afiidi^  ii 
 85.  86. 
 
334  THE   TWO  DEBTORS. 
 
 would  have  spurned  her  away  if  he  had  known  what 
 she  was,  he  thoucjht  he  saw  in  the  fact  of  his  bearine  witli 
 her  an  evidence  that  he  was  ignorant  of  her  character. 
 
 The  reasoning  was  this.  Either  he  knows  what  sort  of 
 a  \voman  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 
 deriv^e  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  ow^es  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.  Betw^een  the  debt  w^hich  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  si":ht  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- 
 ledc^ed,  rather  than  those  which  the  creditor  mia;ht  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   'J'lrO  DEBTORS. 
 
 lickl.  When  the  ehild  is  put  upon  his  honour,  it  is  ex- 
 pected that  he  will  be  honourable.  Probably  a  large 
 balance  of  advantage  results  from  this  contriv^ance  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  giv^en, 
 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  ag"ainst  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  in  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.  ^^J 
 
 authority,  counted  his  Habihty  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  :  ont  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  Phari-':ee. 
 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^  THE  TWO  DEBTORS. 
 
 Forgivcr  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  Q^round,  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 
 di(.l  his  pardon  freely  bestowed  cause  the  forgiven  woman 
 
THE  TWO  DEBTORS.  339 
 
 to  lov^e  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  an  d  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   h'ps,  the  pardon  which  the  repenting  sinner 
 
340  71  IE   TWO  DEBTORS. 
 
 liad  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  lovcin  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  w^orld  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 
 tlie  travail  of  his  soul  and  is  satisfied. 
 
XVII. 
 THE    GOOD  SAMARITAN. 
 
 "  And  Jesus  answering  said,  A  certain  man  went  dowTi  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." — T.uke  x.  30-37. 
 
 OGICALLY  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  ii 
 
34^5  rilE  GOOD  SAMARITAN. 
 
 cntciin*^  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  simpHcity,  or  maHce,  his 
 wisdom  and  goodness  w^ere  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  wdiich  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,  "  IMaster,  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.  i6,  only  differently  reported — if  St.  Luke  had  not  himself  subse- 
 quently narrated  that  second  incident  (xviii.  iS)  !  This  once  more  shows 
 that  many  things  could  naturally,  and  would  necessarily,  occur  more  than 
 once  in  the  life  of  Jesus." — Stier. 
 
THE  GOOD  SAMAIUTAX.  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  motiv^e  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  /  </^  that  / 
 may  inherit  V  &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  SAMARITAX. 
 
 path  liere,  but  wo  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 
 i^^reat  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  aw^ay ;  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  w^hen 
 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. 
 INIankind  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 
 shalt  live ;"  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  w^hy  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  w^hich  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 
 
34^  THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN. 
 
 l^iss.  Wy  nature  it  is  fitted  to  be  a  haunt  of  robbers;  if 
 there  are  any  robbers  in  the  country,  they  will  certainly 
 t^ravitate  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  patJi  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"  Arara  crvyKvpiav)  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 
 
rilE  GOOD  SAMARITAN.  347 
 
 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  his  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  each  meet- 
 
 *  The  analogy  between  the  meetings  exhibited  in  this  parable  and  the 
 meeting  of  Philip  with  the  Ethiopian  (Acts  viii.)  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  by  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  south,"  &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. 
 
343  THE  GOOD  SAMARITAN. 
 
 ing  between  those  who  are  in  want  and  those  who  ha\'e 
 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  their  fastnesses  upon  himself, 
 ■^w^  thus  he  should  only  throw  away  a  good  life  after  a 
 
rilE  GOOD  SAMARITAX.  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  fot 
 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  SAMARITAX. 
 
 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- 
 ev^er  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  SAMARirAh\  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  thines  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  and 
 despised  condition  had  been  to  some  extent  blessed  in  making  them  more 
 humble  and  receptive  than  their  Jewish  neighbours,  we  do  not  know  ;  but, 
 in  point  of  fact,  in  the  historical  incident  a  Samaritan  was  more  ready  thai; 
 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. 
 
352  THE  GOOD  SAMARITA.W 
 
 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.* 
 
 Tlie  contrast  between  the  Levite  and  the  Samaritan,  if  tliis  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 
 lieast."  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  that 
 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 
 Icam  that  the  Samaritan  had  a  beast  of  burden  until  he  sets  the  half-dend 
 traveller  upon  its  back.  There  was  no  occasion  for  mentioning  the  priest's 
 mule,  for  h.c  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  V  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  eveiy  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 
 (9)  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.  355 
 
 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 
 
 *  Driiseke  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. 
 
 t  "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." — Stier. 
 
35^  THE  GOOD  SAMAIUTAX: 
 
 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. 
 
XVI 1 1. 
 
 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.  5-10. 
 
 N  prayer,  as  in  ev^ery  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  director)^  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  FRIEiXD  A  T  MIDNIGHT. 
 
 "  Lord,  teach  us  to  pray."  They  observed  in  their  Master 
 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  upcu 
 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  accompHshing  the  distance  between  his  resting- 
 place  at  noon  and  his  destination  for  the  night.  The  in- 
 mates,hearing  his  knocking  and  recognisinghis  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  bis  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  hke 
 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  AT  MIDNIGHT.  361 
 
 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,  it  was  necessary  to  select  a  case 
 in  which  nothing  but  persevering  importunity  could  prevail. 
 
},(i2  THE  FRIEND  AT  MIDXIGHT. 
 
 The  terms  arc  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  MIDXIGHT.  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  foree. 
 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  FRIEXD  AT  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  "  ijov  SiSovro^ 
 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  tiie 
 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  AT  lillDNIGHT.  365 
 
 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  (aj/az^em) 
 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  v/eight  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 
 yearn-ing  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  g-ift 
 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 
 
36S  THE  FRIEXD  AT  MIDXIGIIT. 
 
 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  tlicsc  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  them,  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  ?  Arid  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 
 
370  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 
 
 V  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 
 
 yby  a  word  from  those  meek  lips;  he  had,  perhaps,  him- 
 
 "S  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, 
 
 ivhich  I  claim  as  my  right. 
 
 { 
 
THE  RICH  FOOL.  371 
 
 We  cannot  cast  the  first  stone  at  this  poor  simpleton, 
 \\\\o  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 
 
372  THE  RICH  FO  OL. 
 
 ) close  of  the  solemnity.  If  human  breasts  were  trans- 
 ^  parent,  and  the  thoughts  that  throng  them  patent  to  the 
 C  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^thi^nking:  so  far,  so  good.  The 
 expression  in  the  original  indicates  a  dialogue,  and  a 
 dialogue  is  a  discourse  maintained  between  two.    Dialogue 
 
 I 
 
THE  RICH  FOOL.  373 
 
 is,  indeed,  the  original  word  transferred  bodily  into  the 
 English  language:  ^Leko^iXero  ev  eavro) — 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,  "Whaj^shalLLdoi''  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. 
 
 mcnt  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,  m  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 
 
 ar  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,  ^jj 
 —that  is,  in  the  unseen  eternity.     They  are  at  God's  right  ^j"  :■ 
 hand — they  are   not  within^your  reach.      Why  do  you 
 permit  an  uncertain  clement  to  go  into  the  foundation  of 
 your  hope  } 
 
 There  is,  indeed,  nothing  strange  here.  It  is  accordino 
 to  law  :  those  who  are  taught  of  the  Spirit  understand  it 
 well.  (The  god  of  this  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  greatO 
 stupidity  in  the  proposal  to  lay  up  in  a  barn  the  portion  J 
 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. 
 CovetousnesSjin  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 
 land  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- 
 Nng  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  apphed  to  the  Lord 
 Jesus  in  the  religious  phraseology  of  the  Germans.  The  term  is  suggestive 
 und  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  Avho  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  reser\'e 
 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  Rule-r  in  providence,  and  tears  out  the  in- 
 truder by  his  mighty  hand  :  the  kingdom  of  heaven  that 
 is  "  within  you  "  also  suffcrcth  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  them,  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.  i-g. 
 
 T  is  obvious  that  the  massacre  of  the  Gahleans 
 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  desti  uction  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 
 
380  1  HE  DA  RKEX  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  tlie 
 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  other 
 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.  3.81 
 
 nient  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  aban- 
 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  arc,  that 
 in  soil,  south  exposure,  care  and  defence,  it  was  placed 
 in  the  best  possible  position  for  bearing  fruit.      The  one 
 
382  THE  BA  RREN  FIG-  7  'REE. 
 
 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.  383 
 
 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,  w^ere  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 
 
3  S  4  THE  BA  RREN  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  w^ayside.  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  BARKEN  FIG-TREE.  385 
 
 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  tlie  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  Slier  endeavours  to 
 show  that  the  interceding  vine-dresser  represents  primarily  tlie  luiman 
 ministry  in  the  Church. 
 
 (9;  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 
 \\\  their  song  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. 
 
 THE     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  ser\'ant.  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  of 
 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 
 
i^S  THE  EXCUSES. 
 
 ill  his  conceptions,  made  the  remark,  ''  Blessed  is  he  that 
 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  Seiirvov  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.  3S9 
 
 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 
 a^vay. 
 
 "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 — airo  fxia^i  (ypwjutji) — the  excuses  were 
 taken,  and  accordingly,  although  spoken  by  different  per- 
 
S90  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  w^anderers  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  those  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 
 
rilE  EXCUSES,  391 
 
 content  with  their  name  and  their  outward  privileges,  and 
 would  not  in  their  own  hearts  and  Hves  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  w^hen  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 \vere  a  preparation  for  Christ.  Wlien  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,  tliat 
 
392  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  (TrapaireicrOai)  and  :n 
 the  English  translation,  signifies  simply  to  plead  to  be 
 excused.  The  grounds  on  which  the  plea  is  urged,  mr^y 
 in  any  case  be  true  or  false  ;  but  in  this  case,  it  is  highly 
 probable  that  the  grounds  stated  wxre  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,  Ave 
 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  M-ay."     If  the  desire  were  pure  and  truc,--th€ 
 
THE  EXCUSES,  39^ 
 
 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  neighbour;  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,  pra)'errull)',  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,  Hke  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,  E TC.  3 9 7 
 
 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  evuience  that  the  main  division  is  twofold,  not  threefold,  lies 
 chiefly  in  the  nature  of  the  several  representations,  the  minute  fonnulae  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,"  (eiTre  5e  ttjv  irapa^oK-qv),  and  that  of  the  prodigal  by  the 
 corresponding,  "  And  he  said,"  (etTre  5e).  Tliese  two  are  thus  balanced  over 
 .igainst  each  other ;  but  the  only  link  between  the  lost  sheep  and  the  lost 
 silver  is,  Either  (7?),  indicating  that  the  second  does  not  introduce  a  new  sub- 
 ject, but  gives  another  illustration  of  that  which  was  already  expressed  ir 
 the  first. 
 
39S  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 
 flat  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  tow^ards  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  w^anderer  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 
 
 *  liengel,  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,  filius  perditus  :  peccator  stupidus,  sui 
 j)lane  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  simiHtudes  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  allegoiy,  and  the  other 
 an  autobiographic  fragment,  both  from  the  fervent  heart  and  thi'ough  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  Trm. 
 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  tlie  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,"  (Stw/cw  5c  et  /cai  /caraXa/Sw,  c0  (p  Kai  KaTe\r]<f>9i]v  viro  tov  XpiaToi 
 ]ijffov).     The  apostle  intends   to  slate  two  connected  facts;  and  to  intimate 
 
400  THE  LOST  SI1EE1\  ETC. 
 
 It  is  proper  to  notice  here  also  the  immediate  occasion 
 in  our  Lord's  history  whence  these  instructions  sprung, 
 as  it  belongs  not  particularly  to  the  first  parable,  but 
 generally  to  the  whole  group.  This  spark  of  heavenly 
 light,  like  many  others  of  similar  beauty,  has  been  struck 
 off  for  us  by  a  rude  blow  which  the  Jewish  leaders  aimed 
 against  the  character  and  authority  of  Jesus.  The  pub- 
 licans and  sinners  of  the  place, — the  home-heathen  of 
 the  day, — the  people  whether  rich  or  poor,  who  had  neither 
 the  power  of  religion  in  their  hearts  nor  the  profession 
 of  it  on  their  lips, — came  out  in  great  numbers  to  hear 
 this  new  prophet,  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  The  word  was 
 new:  "never  man  spake  like  this  man"  to  these  poor 
 outcasts  before.  If  at  any  time  they  sauntered  into  the 
 synagogue,  and  hovered  for  a  few  moments  on  the  out- 
 skirts of  the  congregation,  the  stray  words  that  reached 
 their  ears  from  the  desk  of  the  presiding  scribe,  were 
 harsh  supercilious  denunciations  of  themselves  and  their 
 class.  Hitherto  their  hearts  had  been  like  clay,  and  the 
 Pharisaic  teaching,  as  far  as  it  had  reached  them,  had 
 been  like  fire  :  the  clay  in  this  furnace  grew  aye  the 
 harder.  But  now  a  new  sound  from  the  lips  of  a  public 
 teacher  saluted  their  ears.  They  could  not  throw  these 
 words  back  in  the  speaker's  face,  if  they  would  ;  and  they 
 would  not  if  they  could.     They  permitted  themselves  to 
 
 that  the  one  is  the  cause  of  the  other.  He  is  striving  to  grasp  the  Saviour  ; 
 and  what  impels  or  encourages  him  to  make  the  effort  ?  His  own  experience 
 that  his  Saviour  has  already  in  sovereign  love  laid  hold  of  him.  Christ  has 
 already  come  to  this  sinful  man,  in  loving  saving  power,  as  the  good  shep- 
 herd came  to  the  lost  sheep  ;  therefore  the  sinful  man  will  arise  and  go  to 
 the  Father  like  the  repenting  prodigal.  The  consciousness  that  like  the  lost 
 sheep  he  has  been  grasped  in  the  Redeemer's  arms  does  not  induce  him  to 
 abstain  from  effort  as  unnecessary  ;  on  the  contrary,  by  inspiring  hope,  it 
 nerves  his  arm  and  spurs  him  on.  Because  he  feels  that  the  Shepherd  is 
 bearing  him,  therefore  he  will  arise  and  ;ro. 
 
THE  LOST  SHEEP,  ETC.  401 
 
 be  taken,  and  led.  To  them  Jesus  speaks  "  with  authority, 
 and  not  as  the  scribes."  This  word  had  power ;  and  its 
 power  lay  in  its  tenderness  :  it  went  sheer  through  their 
 stony  hearts,  and  made  them  flow  down  Hke  water. 
 
 Nor  did  he  gain  favour  among  unholy  men  by  making 
 their  sins  seem  lighter  than  the  scribes  represented  them 
 to  be  :  he  made  them  heavier.  He  did  not  convey  to 
 the  profane  and  worldly  the  conception  that  their  sins 
 were  easily  forgiven  ;  but  he  fixed  in  their  hearts  the 
 impression  that  God  is  a  great  forgiven  Touched  and 
 won  by  this  unwonted  tenderness,  they  came  in  clouds 
 to  sit  at  Jesus'  feet. 
 
 The  Pharisees  counted  their  presence  a  blemish  in  the 
 reputation  of  the  teacher.  As  for  them,  they  had  always 
 so  spoken  as  to  keep  people  of  that  sort  effectually  at  a 
 distance  :  the  doctrine,  they  think,  that  brings  them  round 
 the  preacher  cannot  be  sound.  "  This  man,"  they  said, 
 "receiveth  sinners  and  eateth  with  them  ;  "  and  they  said 
 no  more,  for  they  imagined  that  Jesus  was  convicted  and 
 condemned  by  the  fact. 
 
 The  occasion  of  the  parables  becomes  in  a  great  mea- 
 sure the  key  to  their  meaning.  These  men,  the  publicans 
 and  sinners,  are  Abraham's  seed,  and  consequently,  even 
 according  to  the  showing  of  the  Pharisees  themselves, 
 lost  sheep, — prodigal  sons  ;  and  the  Redeemer's  errand 
 from  heaven  to  earth  is  to  seek  and  find  and  bring  back 
 such  as  these  to  the  Father's  fold.  If  they  had  not 
 strayed,  it  would  not  have  been  necessary  that  the  shep- 
 herd should  follow  them  in  their  wandering,  and  bear 
 them  home  :  if  they  had  not  in  a  far  country  spent  their 
 substance  in  riotous  living,  it  would  not  have  been  neces- 
 sary that  they  should  return  repenting  to  their  Father. 
 
 (9)  2d 
 
XXII. 
 
 THE   LOST   SHEEP. 
 
 Then  drew  near  unto  liini  all  the  publicans  and  sinners  for  to  hear  him.  And  the  Phari- 
 sees and  scribes  murmured,  saying,  This  man  receiveth  sinners,  and  eateth  with  them. 
 And  he  spake  this  parable  unto  them,  saying,  What  man  of  you,  having  an  hun- 
 dred sheep,  if  he  lose  one  of  them,  doth  not  leave  the  ninety  and  nine  in  the  wilder- 
 ness, and  go  after  that  which  is  lost,  until  he  find  it  ?  And  when  he  hath  found  it,  he 
 layeth  it  on  his  shoulders,  rejoicing.  And  when  he  cometh  home,  he  calleth  together 
 his  friends  and  neighbours,  saying  unto  them.  Rejoice  with  me  ;  for  I  have  found  my 
 sheep  which  was  lost.  I  say  unto  you,  that  likewise  joy  shall  be  in  heaven  over  one 
 sinner  that  repenteth,  more  than  over  ninety  and  nine  just  persons,  which  need  no 
 repentance." — Luke  xv.  1-7. 
 
 |LT HOUGH  by  another  saying  of  the  Lord,  it 
 is  rendered  certain  that  hired,  and  even  in  a 
 sinister  sense  "hirehng,"  shepherds  were  known 
 at  the  time  in  the  country,  the  presumption 
 that  the  flock  which  this  shepherd  tended  was  his  own 
 property  is  favoured  both  by  the  specific  phraseology 
 employed  in  the  narrative,  and  tlie  special  circumstances 
 of  this  particular  case.  The  size  of  this  flock,  consisting 
 of  only  a  hundred  sheep,  points  rather  to  the  entire 
 wealth  of  a  comparatively  poor  man,  than  to  the  stock 
 of  a  territorial  magnate.  The  conduct  of  the  shepherd, 
 moreover,  is  precisely  the  reverse  of  that  which  is  else- 
 where ascribed  to  the  *'  hireling  whose  own  the  sheep 
 are  not."  The  salient  feature  of  the  man's  character, 
 as  it  is  represented  in  the  parable,  constitutes  a  spe- 
 cific proof  of  his  ownership, — "lie  careth  for  the  sheep," 
 
THE  LOST  SHEEP.  403 
 
 and  that  too  with  a  pecuh'ar  and  self-sacrificing  tender- 
 ness.* 
 
 We  assume,  therefore,  according  to  the  terms  of  the 
 narrative  in  their  literal  acceptation,  that  this  is  a  man 
 "  having  an  hundred  sheep," — that  the  sheep  are  his  own. 
 He  is  feeding  them  on  pasture  land  far  from  cultivated 
 fields  and  human  dw^ellings.  Hills  impervious  to  the 
 plough,  and  patches  of  vegetation  interspersed  through 
 rugged  stony  tracts,  have  in  all  countries  and  ages  con- 
 stituted the  appropriate  pasture  for  flocks  of  sheep. 
 These  are  indicated  here  by  one  word,  "  the  wilderness." 
 The  term  is  obviously  used  not  in  a  strict  but  in  a  free 
 popular  sense  ;  it  means  simply  the  region  of  pasturage, 
 consisting  generally  of  hills  and  moors,  not  suitable  for 
 being  ploughed  and  sow^n. 
 
 A  flock  of  a  hundred  sheep,  although  small,  is  yet 
 sufficiently  considerable  to  render  it  impossible  for  the 
 shepherd  to  detect  the  absence  of  one  by  merely  looking 
 to  them  in  the  lump  and  from  a  distance  ;  he  must  have 
 minutely  inspected  them  ere  he  discovered  that  one  was 
 
 *  In  the  nature  of  the  case  a  great  and  incurable  defect  adheres  to  the 
 method  of  employing  a  hired  servant  to  keep  a  flock  of  sheep,  without 
 giving  him  a  material  interest  in  the  prosperity  of  his  charge.  Such  is  tlie 
 nature  of  the  occupation,  and  such  its  sphere,  that  the  servant  is  necessarily 
 far  and  long  removed  from  the  master's  inspection,  and  if  suspicion  should 
 arise,  proof  of  unfaithfulness  could  hardly  be  brought  home  to  the  accused. 
 It  is  the  interest  of  the  owner  to  contrive  some  method  of  linking  the  profit 
 of  the  shepherd  to  the  prosperity  of  the  flock.  It  was  by  attempting  to 
 accomplish  this  object  by  a  defective  plan,  that  Laban  afforded  to  Jacob 
 the  opportunity  of  prosecuting  his  subtle  policy.  While  conversing  lately 
 with  some  shepherds  on  the  Scottish  Cheviots,  I  learned  that  masters  and 
 servants  in  that  district  arrange  the  matter  easily  to  their  mutual  profit  and 
 satisfaction.  The  wages  of  the  shepherd  are  not  paid  in  money  ;  a  certain 
 number  of  the  sheep,  between  forty  and  fifty  according  to  circumstances,  are 
 his  own  property,  and  their  produce  constitutes  his  hire.  Thus  his  own 
 interest  is  an  ever  present  motive  pressing  the  man  to  do  his  best  for  the 
 (lock,  and  so  to  do  his  best  for  the  master. 
 
4^4  THE  LOST  SHEEP. 
 
 amissing-.  Knowing  them  all  individually,  he  knows  the 
 one  that  has  strayed  ;  he  loves  them  all  as  his  children, 
 and  grieves  when  one  goes  out  of  sight. 
 
 It  was  no  mark  of  carelessness  in  the  shepherd,  as  some 
 have  erroneously  imagined,  to  leave  the  ninety  and  nine 
 in  the  wilderness  while  he  went  to  seek  the  one  that  was 
 lost.  The  main  body  of  the  flock  was  left  in  its  own  pro- 
 per place,  where  it  is  often  left  from  morning  till  night  by 
 the  most  careful  shepherd,  even  when  he  is  not  employed 
 on  the  urgent  duty  of  recovering  wanderers. 
 
 The  shepherd  knows  the  nature  of  the  country  in  which 
 the  sheep  is  straying  ;  and  also  the  nature  of  the  sheep 
 that  is  straying  there.  He  knows  the  roughness  of  the 
 mountain  passes,  and  the  silliness  of  the  solitary  truant 
 sheep  ;  he  divines  accordingly  what  track  it  will  take. 
 He  conjectures  beforehand,  \\A\h  a.  considerable  measure 
 of  accuracy,  the  pit  in  which  it  will  be  found  lying,  or  the 
 thicket  in  which  it  will  be  seen  struggling.  He  follows 
 and  finds  the  fugitive.  Wearied  by  its  journey,  and  per- 
 haps wounded  by  its  falls,  the  sheep,  when  discovered, 
 cannot  return  to  the  fold  even  under  the  shepherd's 
 guidance  ;  he  takes  it  on  his  shoulders  and  bears  the 
 burden  home.  He  does  not  upbraid  it  for  its  straying; 
 he  does  not  complain  of  its  weight.  He  is  glad  that  he 
 has  gotten  his  own  again,  after  it  was  ''ready  to  perish." 
 Happy  while  he  bears  it  homeward,  and  happy  when  he 
 has  gotten  it  home,  he  invites  all  his  neighbours  to  share 
 in  his  joy. 
 
 Such  is  the  simple  and  transparent  outline  of  this 
 ancient  eastern  pastoral  scene  ;  let  us  now  endeavour  to 
 see  in  the  symbol  those  lessons  which  it  at  once  veils  and 
 reveals. 
 
 The  parable  is  spoken   expressly  for  the  purpose  of 
 
THE  LOST  SHEEP.  405 
 
 determining  and  manifesting  the  charactor  and  work  of 
 the  Son  in  the  salvation  of  sinful  men  ;  it  declares  the 
 design,  the  method,  and  the  terms  of  the  incarnate  Re- 
 deemer in  his  intercourse  with  the  creatures  whom  he 
 came  to  save.  But  in  the  fact  of  accomplishing  this  its 
 immediate  object,  it  strikes  also  a  chord  which  runs 
 through  the  centre — constitutes,  as  it  were,  the  medulla 
 of  the  divine  government  in  all  places  and  all  times.  The 
 parable  spoken  in  order  to  afford  a  glance  into  the  heart 
 of  Jesus,  incidentally  at  the  same  time  sketches  the  out- 
 line of  God's  universal  rule  ;  as  in  drawing  the  figure  of 
 a  branch  you  necessarily  exhibit,  in  its  main  features  and 
 proportions,  an  image  of  the  tree.  This  wider  subject, 
 certainly  and  accurately  outlined,  although  incidentally 
 introduced,  demands  some  notice  at  our  hand. 
 
 Ever  since  scientific  observation  discovered  the  true 
 system  of  the  material  universe,  and  so,  as  it  were, 
 changed  those  twinkling  sparks  of  light  into  central  suns, 
 the  rulers  of  tributary  worlds,  philosophy  apart  from 
 faith  has  been,  more  or  less  articulately,  scattering  the 
 question,  at  once  a  fruit  and  a  seed  of  unbelief,  How 
 could  the  Creator  of  so  vast  a  universe  bestow  so  much  of 
 his  care  on  one  small  spot  }  Some  have  been  disposed 
 to  say,  and  perhaps  more  have  been  disposed  to  think, 
 with  fear  or  joy  according  to  their  predilection,  that 
 modern  discovery  is  gradually  putting  the  Bible  out  of 
 date.  A  feeling,  if  not  a  judgment,  has  in  some  quarters 
 arisen,  that  in  view  of  the  vastness  of  creation,  the  Scrip- 
 tures ascribe  to  this  globe  and  its  concerns  a  share  of  its 
 Maker's  interest  disproportionately  great. 
 
 This  phase  of  unbelief  is  refuted  both  by  the  necessary 
 attributes  of  God  and  by  the  written  revelation  of  his 
 
40 6  rilE  LOST  SHEEP. 
 
 will.  Wliat  rolation,  capable  of  being  appreciated  or  cal- 
 culated, subsists  between  material  bulk  and  moral  cha- 
 racter ?  The  question  between  great  and  small  is  totally 
 distinct  from  the  question  between  good  and  evil. 
 Number  and  extension  cannot  exercise  or  illustrate  the 
 moral  character  either  of  God  or  of  man.  We  should  our- 
 selves despise  the  mischievous  caprice  which  should  give  to 
 the  biggest  man  in  the  city  the  honours  that  are  due  to  the 
 best.  Right  and  wrong  are  matters  that  move  on  other 
 lines  and  at  higher  levels  than  great  and  small,  before 
 both  human  tribunals  and  divine. 
 
 There  is,  perhaps,  as  much  reason  for  saying  that  this 
 earth  is  too  large,  as  for  saying  that  it  is  too  small,  for 
 being  the  scene  of  God's  greatest  work.  The  telescope 
 has  opened  a  long  receding  vista  of  wonders,  where  the 
 observer  is  lost  in  the  abyss  of  distance  and  magnitude; 
 the  microscope  has  opened  another  long  receding  vista  of 
 wonders,  where  the  observer  is  lost  in  the  abyss  of  near- 
 ness and  minuteness  equally  beyond  his  reach.  Between 
 the  great  and  the  small,  who  shall  determine  and  pre- 
 scribe the  centre-point  equidistant  from  both  extremes, 
 v/hich  the  Infinite  ought  to  have  chosen  as  a  theatre  for 
 the  display  of  His  greatest  glory  .^ 
 
 In  the  divine  government  generally,  as  well  as  \\\ 
 revealed  religion  particularly,  the  aim  is  not  to  choose 
 the  widest  stage,  but  on  any  stage  that  may  be  chosen 
 to  execute  the  Creator's  purpose,  and  achieve  the  crea- 
 ture's good.  A  battle  is  fought,  an  enemy  crushed,  and 
 a  kingdom  won  on  some  remote  and  barren  moor  :  no 
 man  suggests,  by  way  of  challenging  the  authenticity  of 
 the  record,  that  a  conflict  waged  between  hosts  so  power- 
 ful, and  involving  interests  so  momentous,  could  not  have 
 taken  place  on  an  insignificant  spot,  while  the  continent 
 
THE  LOST  SHEEP.  407 
 
 contained  many  larger  and  more  fertile  plains  :  neither 
 can  the  loss  incurred  by  the  sin  of  men,  and  the  gain 
 gotten  through  the  redemption  of  Christ,  be  measured 
 by  the  size  of  the  world  in  which  the  events  emerged.  It 
 is  enough  that  here  the  first  Adam  fell  and  the  second 
 Adam  triumphed  ; — that  here  evil  overcame  good,  and 
 good  in  turn  overcame  evil.  There  was  room  on  this 
 earth  for  Eden  and  for  Calv^ary  ;  this  globe  supplies  the 
 fulcrum  whereon  all  God's  government  leans.  The  Re- 
 deemer came  not  to  the  largest  world,  but  to  the  lost 
 world  :  "  even  so.  Father." 
 
 "  He  took  not  on  him  the  nature  of  angels."  In  aggre- 
 gate numbers  they  may,  for  aught  we  know,  be  the  ninety 
 and  nine,  while  we  represent  the  one  that  strayed  ;  but 
 though  all  these  shining  stars  were  peopled  worlds,  and 
 all  their  inhabitants  angels  who  kept  their  first  estate,  he 
 will  leave  them  in  their  places  in  the  blue  heaven  afar, 
 like  sheep  in  the  wide  moorland,  and  go  forth  in  search 
 of  this  one  shooting  star,  to  arrest  and  bring  it  back.  It 
 is  his  joy  to  restore  it  to  law  and  light  again.  Rejoice 
 with  great  joy,  O  inhabitants  of  the  earth !  the  Saviour 
 Almighty  has  passed  other  worlds  and  other  beings,  some 
 of  whom  do  not  need,  and  some  of  whom  do  not  get,  sal- 
 vation,— has  passed  them  and  come  to  us.  He  has  taken 
 hold  of  the  seed  of  Abraham,  that  we  who  partake  of 
 Abraham's  sinful  flesh  may  partake  also  of  Abraham's 
 saving  faith.  There  is  much  in  this  mystery  which  we 
 do  not  know,  and  in  our  present  state  could  not  compre- 
 hend; but  we  know  the  one  thing  needful  regarding  it, — 
 that  "  Jesus  Christ  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners."* 
 
 *  "  Should  not  tliat  great  and  glorious  Shepherd,  whose  millions  of 
 bright  sheep  fill  the  universe,  leave  these  millions  in  order  to  seek  the 
 flightest,   poorest,  most  infirm  of  those  who  need  his  care,  and  without  thai 
 
4c8  THE  LOST  SHEEP. 
 
 I  laving  noticed  cursorily  that  grand  characteristic  feature 
 of  God's  universal  government  to  which  the  principle  of 
 the  parable  is  applicable,\ve  proceed  now  to  examine  more 
 particularly  the  recovery  of  lost  men  by  the  Lord  our 
 Redeemer,  to  which  the  lesson  of  the  parable  is,  in  point 
 of  fact,  specifically  applied. 
 
 I.  The  shepherd  misses  one  when  it  has  strayed  from  the 
 flock.  The  Redeemer's  knowledge  is  infinite ;  He  looks  not 
 only  over  the  multitude  generally,  but  into  each  individual. 
 When  I  stand  on  a  hillock  at  the  edge  of  a  broad  meadow, 
 and  look  across  the  sward,  it  may  be  said  in  a  general  way 
 that  I  look  on  all  the  grass  of  that  field  ;  but  the  sun  in  the 
 sky  looks  on  it  after  another  fashion, — shines  on  every 
 down-spike  that  protrudes  from  every  blade.  It  is  thus 
 that  the  Good  Shepherd  knows  the  flock.  Knowing  all, 
 he  misses  any  one  that  wanders.  He  missed  a  world  when 
 it  fell,  although  his  worlds  lie  scattered  like  grains  of 
 golden  dust  on  the  blue  field  of  heaven, — the  open 
 infinite.     When  the  light  of  moral  life  went  out  in  one 
 
 care  would  utterly  perish ;  does  not  his  boundless  love  require  him  to  go 
 after  it  ?"  Stier,  after  quoting  this  sentence  in  reference  to  the  parable  from 
 Kurr,  Bibel  tmd  Astronomie,  remarks,  "  This  is  a  thought  quite  permissible 
 in  itself,  but  as  an  exposition  of  what  Eternal  Wisdom  has  spoken,  it  is  not 
 valid."  Here,  however,  the  learned  critic  has  incorrectly  apprehended  the 
 state  of  the  question.  A  secondary  relation  is  as  real  in  its  own  place  as  a 
 primary.  It  is  quite  true  that  the  parable,  under  the  picture  of  the  one  sheep 
 that  strayed  and  the  ninety-nine  that  remained  on  the  pasture,  points  directly 
 and  immediately  to  two  distinct  classes  of  human  kind  ;  but  it  brings  up  as 
 legitimately,  although  more  remotely,  the  distinction,  governed  by  the  same 
 principle,  which  has  in  God's  universal  sovereignty  been  made  between  the 
 human  race  on  the  one  hand,  and  angelic  spirits  on  the  other.  One  expositor 
 may  legitimately  confine  his  view  to  the  more  immediate  and  narrower 
 sphere  ;  but  another  may  as  legitimately  take  a  wider  range,  provided  he 
 make  and  mark  the  necessary  distinctions  as  he  proceeds  ;  as  one  inquirer 
 in  physics  may  limit  his  speculation  to  the  solid  body  of  this  globe,  while 
 another,  under  the  same  general  designation,  may,  with  perfect  logical  ex- 
 actness,  include  also  the  ainio>^phere  that  surrounds  it. 
 
THE  LOST  SHEEP.  405 
 
 of  his  worlds,  he  missed  its  wonted  shining  in  the 
 aggregate  of  glory  that  surrounds  his  throne.  With 
 equal  perfectness  of  knowledge  he  misses  one  human 
 being  w^ho  has  been  formed  by  his  hand,  but  fails  to 
 hang  by  faith  upon  his  love.  The  Bible  speaks  of  fall- 
 ing "  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God,"  and  calls  it  "  a 
 fearful  thing"  (Heb.  x.  31);  but  an  equally  fearful  thing 
 happened  before  it, — we  fell  out  of  the  bosom  of  the 
 living  God.  He  felt,  so  to  speak,  the  want  of  our  weight 
 when  we  fell,  and  said,  "  Save  from  going  down  to  the 
 pit."  But  the  omniscience  of  the  Saviour  does  not  stop 
 when  it  passes  through  the  multitude,  and  reaches  the 
 individual  man  ;  it  penetrates  the  veils  that  effectually 
 screen  us  from  each  other,  and  so  knows  the  thoughts 
 which  congregate  like  clouds  within  a  human  heart,  that 
 he  misses  every  one  that  is  not  subject  to  his  will. 
 When  the  mighty  volume  is  coursing  along  its  channel 
 towards  the  ocean,  he  marks  every  drop  that  leaps  aside 
 in  spray.  It  is  a  solemn  thought,  and  to  the  reconciled  a 
 gladsome  one,  that,  as  the  shepherd  observed  w^hen  one 
 sheep  left  the  fold,  the  Shepherd  of  Israel,  who  slumbers 
 not  nor  sleeps,  detects  every  wandering  soul,  and  in  that 
 soul  every  wandering  thought.  The  Physician's  thorough 
 knowledge  of  the  ailment  lies  at  the  very  foundation  of 
 the  patient's  hope. 
 
 2.  The  shepherd  cared  for  the  lost  sheep  ;  althougli 
 he  possessed  ninety  and  nine,  he  was  not  content  to  let 
 a  unit  go.  A  species  of  personal  affection  and  the  ordi- 
 nary interest  of  property,  combine  to  cause  grief  when  the 
 sheep  is  lost,  and  to  contribute  the  motive  for  setting  off 
 in  search  of  the  wanderer. 
 
 In  attempting  to  apply  the  lesson  at  this  point,  we 
 very  soon    go  beyond   our   depth.      Our   own   weakness 
 
4  T  o  THE  L  OST  SHEEP. 
 
 warns  us  not  to  attempt  too  much ;  but  the  condescend- 
 ing kindness  of  the  Lord,  in  speaking  these  parables,  en- 
 courages us  to  enter  into  the  mystery  of  redeeming  love 
 on  this  side  as  far  as  our  line  can  reach.  In  that  inscrut- 
 able love  which  induced  the  Owner  of  man  to  become 
 his  saviour  when  he  fell,  there  must  be  something  corre- 
 sponding to  both  of  the  ingredients  which  constituted 
 the  shepherd's  grief  There  was  something  correspond- 
 ing— with  such  correspondence  as  may  exist  between  the 
 divine  and  the  human — to  the  personal  affection,  and 
 something  to  the  loss  of  property.  When  we  think  of 
 the  Redeemer's  plan  and  work  as  wholly  apart  from  self- 
 interest,  and  undertaken  simply  for  the  benefit  of  the 
 fallen  race,  we  form  a  conception  of  redemption  true  as  far 
 as  it  goes,  but  the  conception  is  not  complete.  The  object 
 which  we,  from  our  view-point,  strive  to  measure,  has 
 another  and  opposite  side.  For  his  own  sake  as  well  as  for 
 ours,  the  Redeemer  undertook  and  accomplished  his  work.* 
 "  For  the  joy  that  was  set  before  him  he  endured  the  cross, 
 despising  the  shame."  When  he  wept  over  Jerusalem,  mere 
 pity  for  the  lost  was  not  the  sole  fountain  of  his  tears. 
 Those  tears,  like  some  great  rivers  of  the  globe,  were  sup- 
 plied from  two  sources  lying  in  opposite  directions.  As  the 
 possession  of  the  ransomed  when  they  are  brought  back 
 affords  the  Redeemer  joy,  the  want  of  the  lost,  while  they 
 are  distant,  must  cause  in  his  heart  a  corresponding  and 
 equivalent  grief.  It  is  true,  that  if  we  too  strictly  apply 
 to  the  divine  procedure  the  analogy  of  human  affairs  at 
 
 *  You  may  measure  a  square  surface  and  find  it  to  contain  so  many  feet 
 of  superficial  area  :  suppose  you  discover  afterwards  that  it  has  depth  as 
 well  as  length  and  breadth;  to  take  in  also  this  new  measurement  does  not 
 diminish  the  old.  If  we  discover  that,  for  his  own  sake,  the  Redeemer 
 accomplished  his  saving  work,  it  was  not  on  that  account  less  for  our 
 sakes. 
 
THE  L  OS  T  SHEEP.  4 1  • 
 
 this  point  we  shall  fatally  dilute  our  conception  of  the 
 generosity  displayed  in  the  Gospel ;  but  on  the  other 
 hand,  if  do  not  apply  this  analogy  at  all,  we  shall  inevit- 
 ably permit  some  of  our  sweetest  consolation  to  slip  from 
 our  grasp.  To  be  merely  pitied  does  not  go  so  kindly 
 or  so  powerfully  about  our  hearts  as  to  be  loved  ;  Christ's 
 regard  for  fallen  men  is  not  merely  the  compassion  of  one 
 who  is  loftily  independent.  When  an  infant  is  lost  in  a 
 forest,  and  all  the  neighbours  have,  at  the  mother's  call, 
 gone  out  in  search  of  the  wanderer,  it  would  be  a  miser- 
 ably inadequate  conception  of  that  mother's  emotion  to 
 think  of  it  as  pity  for  the  sufferings  of  the  child  :  her  own 
 suffering  for  want  of  her  child  is  greater  than  the  child's 
 for  want  of  his  mother ;  and  by  the  express  testimony 
 of  Scripture,  we  learn  that  the  Saviour's  remembrance  of 
 his  people  is  analogous  to  the  mother's  remembrance  of 
 her  child.  If  you  press  the  likeness  too  far,  you  destroy 
 the  essential  character  of  redemption,  by  representing  it 
 as  a  self-pleasing  on  the  part  of  the  Redeemer;  but  if 
 you  take  away  the  likeness  altogether,  you  leave  me 
 sheltered,  indeed,  under  an  Almighty  arm,  but  not  per- 
 mitted to  lie  on  a  loving  breast.  My  joy  in  Christ's  sal- 
 vation is  tenfold  increased,  when,  after  being  permitted 
 to  think  that  he  is  mine,  I  am  also  permitted  to  think  that 
 I  am  his.  If  it  did  not  please  him  to  get  me  back,  my 
 pleasure  would  be  small  in  being  coldly  allowed  to  return. 
 No  :  the  longing  of  Christ  to  get  the  wanderer  into  his 
 bosom  again,  for  the  satisfaction  of  his  own  soul,  is  the  sweet- 
 est ingredient  in  the  cup  of  a  returning  penitent's  joy.* 
 
 *  "In  the  centre  of  all  lies  the  profound  thought,  that  in  Go  J  and  Christ, 
 love  is  one  with  self-interest,  and  self-interest  one  with  love ;  no  such  con- 
 trariety existing  between  them  as  is  found  in  the  case  of  man." — Stier^ 
 Words  of  the  Lord. 
 
4 1  2  THE  LOST  SHEEP. 
 
 3.  The  shepherd  left  the  ninety  and  nine  for  the  sake 
 of  the  one  that  had  wandered.  I  find  no  difficulty  in  the 
 interpretation  of  the  parable  here.  The  doctrinal  diffi- 
 culty which  some  have  met  at  this  point,  has  been  im- 
 ported into  the  field  by  a  mistake  in  regard  to  the 
 material  scene.  The  leaving  of  the  ninety  and  nine  in 
 the  wilderness,  while  the  shepherd  went  out  to  seek  the 
 strayed  sheep,  implied  no  dereliction  of  the  shepherd's 
 duty, — no  injury  to  the  body  of  the  flock.  In  this  trans- 
 action neither  kindness  nor  unkindness  was  manifested 
 towards  those  that  remained  on  the  pasture; — it  had  no 
 bearing  upon  them  at  all.  Nor  is  it  necessary,  at  this 
 stage,  to  determine  who  are  represented  by  the  ninety 
 and  nine.  Be  they  the  unfallen  spirits,  or  the  righteous 
 in  the  abstract,  or  those  who,  in  ignorance  of  God's  law, 
 count  themselves  righteous,  the  parable  is  constructed 
 for  the  purpose  of  teaching  us  that  the  mission  of  Christ 
 has  for  its  special  object,  not  the  good,  but  the  evil.  As 
 the  specific  effort  of  the  shepherd,  which  is  recorded  in 
 this  story,  had  respect  not  to  the  flock  that  remained  on 
 the  pasture,  but  to  the  one  sheep  that  had  gone  away, 
 the  specific  effort  of  the  Son  of  God,  in  his  incarnation, 
 ministry,  death,  and  resurrection,  has  respect,  not  to  the 
 worthy,  but  the  unworthy. 
 
 Thus  the  Pharisees  were  entirely  at  fault  in  regard  to 
 the  first  principle  of  the  Gospel.  They  assumed  that, 
 because  the  publicans  and  sinners  had  gone  astray,  Jesus, 
 if  he  were  the  true  Messiah,  would  not  have  any  dealings 
 with  them ;  without  either  conceding  or  expressly  deny- 
 ing their  assumption  of  superior  righteousness — that  be- 
 ing precisely  the  point  on  which  he  determined  that  then 
 and  there  he  would  give  no  judgment — he  intimates  that 
 the  strayed  sheep  is  the  peculiar  object  of  his  care,  and 
 
THE  LOST  SHEEP.  4 1 3 
 
 that  because  it  is  the  strayed  sheep,  and  he  is  the  Good 
 Shepherd; — he  intimates,  taking  the  Pharisees  at  their 
 own  word,  that  the  sinners  are  the  objects  whom  a  Savi- 
 our should  follow,  and  seek,  and  find,  precisely  because 
 they  are  sinners.  It  concerns  us  more  to  know  who 
 are  represented  by  the  strayed  sheep,  than  to  know  who 
 are  represented  by  the  sheep  that  did  not  stray,  for  to 
 the  former  class,  and  not  to  the  latter,  we  most  cer- 
 tainly belong. 
 
 4.  How  does  the  shepherd  act  when  he  overtakes  the 
 wanderer  "^  He  does  not  punish  it — he  does  not  even 
 upbraid  it  for  straying  ;  his  anxiety  and  effort  are  con- 
 centrated on  one  point — to  get  it  home  again.  Would 
 that  guilty  suspicious  hearts  could  see  through  this  glass 
 the  loving  heart  of  Jesus,  as  he  has  himself  presented  it 
 to  their  view  !  He  takes  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  them 
 that  die.  His  ministry  in  general,  and  this  lesson  in  par- 
 ticular, proclaim  that  Christ's  errand  into  the  world  is  to 
 win  the  rebellious  back  by  love.  You  may  suppose  the 
 truant  sheep  to  have  dreaded  punishment  when  it  was 
 overtaken  by  the  injured  shepherd  ;  but  his  look  and  his 
 act  when  he  came  must  have  immediately  dispelled  the 
 helpless  creature's  fears.  The  Lord  has  held  up  this 
 picture  before  us  that  in  it  we  may  behold  his  love,  and 
 that  the  sight  of  his  love  may  at  length  discharge  from 
 our  hearts  their  inborn  obdurate  suspiciousness. 
 
 5.  The  shepherd  lays  the  sheep  upon  his  shoulders. 
 This  feature  of  the  picture  affords  no  ground  for  the  doc- 
 trine which  has  sometimes  been  founded  on  it,  that  the 
 Saviour  is  burdened  with  the  sinners  whom  he  saves. 
 His  suffering  lies  in  another  direction,  and  is  not  in  any 
 form  represented  here.  He  weeps  when  the  sinful  remain 
 distant    and  refuse  to   throw  their  weight   on   him  ;    he 
 
<  1 4  THE  L  OS  r  SHEEP. 
 
 never  complains  of  having  too  much  of  this  work  in 
 hand.  The  parable  here  points  to  his  power  and  victory, 
 not  to  his  pain  and  weariness. 
 
 The  representation  that  the  shepherd  bore  the  strayed 
 sheep  home  upon  his  shoulder,  instead  of  going  before 
 and  calling  on  it  to  follow,  is  significant  in  respect  both 
 to  this  parable  and  its  counterpart  and  complement,  the 
 Prodigal  Son.  In  as  far  as  the  saving  of  the  lost  is  por- 
 trayed in  this  similitude,  the  work  is  done  by  the  Saviour 
 alone.  First  and  last  the  sinner  does  nothing  but  de- 
 stroy himself:  all  the  saving  work  is  done  for  him,  none 
 of  it  by  him.  This  is  one  side  of  salvation,  and  it  is  the 
 Only  side  that  is  represented  here.  It  seems  hard  to 
 conceive  how  any  converted  man  can  be  troubled  by 
 doubt  or  difficulty  concerning  this  doctrine.  Every  one 
 whom  Christ  has  sought  and  found,  and  borne  to  the 
 fold,  feels  and  confesses  that,  if  the  Shepherd  had  not 
 come  to  the  sheep,  the  sheep  would  not  have  come  to  the 
 Shepherd.  If  any  wanderer  still  hesitates  on  the  question. 
 Who  brought  him  home  }  it  is  time  that  he  should 
 begin  to  entertain  another  question,  Whether  he  has  yet 
 been  brought  home  at  all }  The  acknowledgment  of 
 this  fundamental  truth,  that  salvation  is  begun,  carried 
 on,  and  completed  by  the  Saviour  alone,  does  not,  of 
 course,  come  into  collision  with  another  fundamental 
 truth,  which  expatiates  on  another  sphere,  and  is  repre- 
 sented in  another  parable,  that  except  the  sinful  do 
 themselves  repent,  and  come  to  the  Father,  they  shall 
 perish  in  their  sins. 
 
 6.  Far  from  being  oppressed  by  the  burden  of  his 
 strayed  sheep,  the  shepherd  rejoices  when  he  feels  its 
 weight  upon  his  shoulder.  His  joy  begins  not  when  the 
 work  is  over,  but  when  the  work  begins.     While  the  lost 
 
THE  LOST  SHEEP.  4 r 5 
 
 one  is  on  his  shoulder,  and  because  it  is  on  his  shoulder, 
 the  shepherd  is  glad.  The  doctrinal  equivalent  of  this 
 feature  is  one  of  the  clearest  of  revealed  truths,  and  yet  it 
 is  one  of  the  last  that  a  human  heart  is  willing  to  receive. 
 The  work  of  saving,  far  from  being  done  with  a  grudge 
 in  order  to  keep  a  covenant,  is  a  present  delight  to  the 
 Saviour.  This  lesson  falls  on  human  minds  like  a  legend 
 written  by  the  finger  on  dewy  glass,  which  disappears 
 when  the  sun  grows  hot  ;  but  when  it  is  graven  on  the 
 heart  as  by  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God,  it  is  unspeakably 
 precious.  When  I  habitually  realize  not  only  that  Christ 
 will  keep  his  word  in  receiving  sinners,  but  that  he  has 
 greater  delight  in  bearing  my  weight  than  I  can  ever  have 
 in  casting  it  on  him,  I  shall  trust  fully  and  trust  always. 
 There  is  great  power  in  this  truth,  and  great  weakness 
 in  the  want  of  it.  Let  even  an  experienced  Christian 
 analyze  carefully  the  working  of  his  own  heart,  not  in  the 
 act  of  backsliding  towards  the  world,  but  in  its  best 
 efforts  to  follow  the  Lord,  and  he  will  discover  among  the 
 lower  folds  of  his  experience  a  persistent  suspicion  that 
 the  great  draft  which  a  sinner  makes  on  the  Saviour's 
 mercy  will,  though  honoured,  be  honoured  with  a  grudge 
 because  of  its  greatness.  Look  on  the  simple  picture  of 
 his  love  which  Jesus  has  in  this  parable  presented — look 
 on  the  words,  *'  He  layeth  it  on  his  shoulders  rejoicing," 
 — look  till  you  grieve  for  your  own  distrust,  and  the  dis- 
 trust melt  in  that  grief  away. 
 
 7.  The  shepherd  on  reaching  home  not  only  himself 
 rejoiced,  but  invited  his  neighbours  to  rejoice  with  him 
 over  his  success.  To  this  last  intimation  of  the  parable 
 the  Lord  immediately  adds  an  express  exposition  of  its 
 meaning, — Vcr.  7,  "  I  say  unto  you  that  likewise  joy  shall 
 be  in  heaven  over  one  sinner  that  rcpcntcth,  more  than 
 
4  T^>  THE  LOST  SHEEP. 
 
 nvcr  ninety  and  nine  just  persons  which  need  no  repen- 
 tance." In  the  parallel  explanation  appended  to  the 
 next  parable  (ver.  lo),  an  additional  feature  is  expressed, 
 "  There  is  joy  in  the  presence  of  the  angels  of  God  over 
 one  sinner  that  repenteth  ;"  both  obviously  refer  to  the 
 same  fact,  and  should  be  taken  together  as  one  announce- 
 ment. 
 
 The  kingdom  of  God  recognises  two  successive  home- 
 comings in  the  history  of  every  citizen.  The  exile  dis- 
 covered and  borne  back  by  the  discriminating  mercy  of 
 the  Redeemer,  comes  home  when  through  the  regenera- 
 tion he  enters  a  state  of  grace  ;  and  he  comes  home 
 under  the  leading  of  the  same  chief,  when  in  the  resur- 
 rection he  enters  a  state  of  perfect  glory.  It  is  instruc- 
 tive and  comforting  to  observe  that,  while  both  home- 
 comings are  joyful,  it  is  of  the  first  that  the  Lord 
 expressly  speaks  when  he  intimates  that  over  it  himself 
 and  the  hosts  of  heaven  will  rejoice.  It  is  over  the  repen- 
 tance of  a  sinner  that  a  jubilee  is  held  in  heaven  ;  they 
 do  not  wait  till  the  ransomed  one  shall  appear  in  bodily 
 presence  near  the  great  white  throne.  There  is  no  need: 
 the  entrance  into  grace  ensures  the  entrance  into  glory. 
 The  children  will  all  get  home.  No  slip  can  come  be- 
 tween the  cup  of  the  Redeemer's  glad  anticipation  when 
 a  sinner  is  renewed,  and  the  lip  of  his  complete  satisfac- 
 tion when  he  welcomes  the  ransomed  at  length  into  the 
 mansions  of  the  Father's  house. 
 
 In  this  brief  but  lucid  exposition  of  his  own  similitude 
 which  the  Lord  g^ave  at  the  moment,  and  the  evancrelist 
 has  preserved  for  us,  something  is  taught  first  regarding 
 the  companions,  and  second  regarding  the  measure  of  his 
 joy.  Both  present  points  of  interest  which  require  and 
 will  repay  more  particular  attention. 
 
THE  L  OST  SHEEP.  4 1 7 
 
 (i.)  In  regard  to  the  participation  of  the  angels,  in  the 
 Redeemer's  joy  over  the  salvation  of  the  lost,  the  intima- 
 tions bear  that  there  is  joy  "  in  heaven,"  and  "in  the  pre- 
 sence of  the  angels  of  God."  It  seems  unaccountably  to 
 those  who  look  carefully  into  the  terms  of  the  record,  to  be 
 universallyassumed  from  these  expressions  that  the  angels, 
 in  the  exercise  of  their  inherent  faculties,  are  in  some  way 
 cognisant  of  conversion  as  it  proceeds  in  human  souls  upon 
 the  earth,  and  that  they  rejoice  accordingly  when  another 
 heart  melts,  and  another  rebel  submits  to  God.  Capital 
 has  even  been  made  out  of  this  passage  by  Romanists  in 
 support  of  prayers  addressed  to  unseen  created  spirits.  All 
 this  proceeds  upon  an  exegesis,  which  is,  I  believe,  demon- 
 strably erroneous.  In  order  to  settle  all  questions  that  can 
 arise  here,  nothing  more  is  necessary  than  a  simple  straight- 
 forward examination  of  the  terms.  The  rejoicing  takes 
 place  "  in  heaven,"  and  "  in  presence  of  the  angels " 
 (ei/a)7rzoi/  rwi/  a'yykXoiv).  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 " 
 (ovTw.)  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- 
 
4 1 8  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  his  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  forcriven  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  streanis 
 down   on  the   sea   of  upturned  faces  tliat  surround  the 
 
THE  LOST  SHEEP,  4  [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  w^hich  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  hini- 
 *  Made  or  adopted  by  Dr.  Trench. 
 
420  THE  L OS T  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 
 liis  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  L  OS  T  SHEEP.  4  2 1 
 
 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  j 
 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  hath 
 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. 
 
 HE  three  parables  of  this  group,  as  has  been 
 ah'eady  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 
 P^ather. 
 
 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.  423 
 
 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  mainly  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  n(>t 
 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  th.is 
 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  phraseolog)'  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  lier  over 
 the  recoveiy  of  the  lost.  This  exposition  seems  confused  and  inconsistent ; 
 and  it  is  a  dim  mysterious  conception  of  "  the  Church"  that  constitutes  the 
 dislurl)in';  clement. 
 
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 ;  Avhereas,  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  m  the  nature  of  the  subjects,  the  two  cases,  in  relation 
 to  possession,  loss,  and  finding,  are  precisely  the  same. 
 
THE  LOST  COiy.  425 
 
 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  tiue.  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  tw(; 
 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  COIX. 
 
 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  Hfts  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  onl}^ 
 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  SOX. 
 
 '  And  he  said,  A  certain  man  had  two  sons :  and  the  younger  of  them  said  to  his  father 
 Father,  give  me  the-  portion  of  goods  that  falleth  to  me.  And  he  divided  unto  them' 
 his  hving.  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  unto  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  m.iny  years  do  I  serve 
 thee,  neither  transgressed  I  at  any  time  thy  commandment  :  and  yet  thou  never  gavest 
 me  a  kid,  that  I  mighi  make  merry  with  my  friends  :  but  as  soon  as  this  thy  son  was 
 come,  which  hath  devoured  thy  living  with  harlots,  thou  h.ist  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  merrj',  and  be  glad  :  for  this  thy  brother  was  dead, 
 .Tnd  is  alive  again  ;  and  was  lost,  and  is  found."— Luke  xv.  11-32. 
 
 ECALL  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  HIE  PKODIGAL  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,  w^hile  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  SOX,  429 
 
 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  of 
 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 o  THE  PRODIGAL  SON. 
 
 heavenly  Father's  heart  and  home.  Here  a  g^ate  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- 
 copae  of  the  Sunday  Kalendar,  is  an  omission  which  is  utterly  unjustifiable 
 on  any  ground  whatever,  which  is  not  compensated  by  the  insertion  of  the 
 ])revious  similitudes,  and  which  of  itself  is  ample  reason  for  that  reformation 
 of  the  Kalendar  which  Palmer  desires." — Words  of  the  Lord  Jesns,  in  loc. 
 The  successors  of  I  ,uther  roast,  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 
 times,  to  its  ministers  and  congregations  in  their  Sabbath  solemnities. 
 
THE  PRODIGAL  SON. 
 
 43  > 
 
 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* 
 
432  THE  PR  0  DIG  A  L  SON, 
 
 ing  characters  as  have  been,  or  may  yet  be,  found  in  tlie 
 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  fallctJi  (to  ewi/SdWov  fxepo^)  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  \vent  into  a  far  countr)%  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 
 (^>  28 
 
434  THE  PRODIGAL  SO.V. 
 
 to  whom  much  had  been  intrusted  thought  his  master 
 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  SOX.  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 
 V  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- 
 j/  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  father's  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  S  THE  PRODIGAL  SOX. 
 
 "  When  he  was  yet  a  great  way  off  his  father  saw  him." 
 lie  must  have  been  looking  out  Often,  doubtless  every 
 clay,  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  w^eeping  at  the  win- 
 dow^, longing  for  his  return  ;  when  at  last  the  prodigal 
 appeared,  the  w^atchful  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  w^armth  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  w-ith  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 
 u[iturncd  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  sen.  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  a  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  last 
 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  sen'ant,  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  reconcihation  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  SOX.  44 1 
 
 sessor  of  great  wealth  is  kind,  generous,  forgiving;  that 
 he  does  not  retain  resentment  for  injuries  received;  that 
 he  dehghts  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, 
 hov/ever,  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  o\\\\  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 
 propttiaiion  of  the  Son  of  God  in  this  instant  exhibition  of  the  Fathei^s  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  Christ 
 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 
 
 X 
 
444  THE  PRODIGAL  SOX. 
 
 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  observ^er  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.  I//s  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  t/ie  Son — who  is  neither  an 
 elder  nor  Vi.  yo2i7ige)\  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  oin)  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. '  "— 6V/a- 
 ;//  loc. 
 
THE  PRODIGAL  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, 
 
44^  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  Hfe.  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  SOX.  447 
 
 In  the  meantime,  it  is  very  sweet  to  learn  from  the  hps 
 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 
 Fuch  commotion  either  in  the  heart  of  the  father  or  his  home. 
 
44''  THE  PRODIGAL  SOA: 
 
 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 
 cr)^,  "  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  t  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- 
 i»)  29 
 
45 o  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  kingdomj  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. 
 
 "  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  foiu-score.  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  imto  you,  Make  to  yourselves  friends  of 
 the  mammon  of  unrighteousness ;  that,  when  ye  fail,  they  may  receive  you  into  ever- 
 lasting habitations." — Luke  xvi.  1-9. 
 
 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  di.shonesty.     It 
 
452  THE  PR  UDENT  STE  WA RD. 
 
 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  comphcated  accounts  ; 
 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 
 
TlIK  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  tlie  amount  of  rent  which  they  had  agreed 
 to  pay  for  their  lands.     Having  in  his  hands  the  docu- 
 
456  THE  PRUDENT  STEWARD. 
 
 ments  which  bound  the  debtors,  he  might  have  read  oflf 
 from  these  the  amount  due  by  each  ;  but  it  suited  his 
 purpose  better  to  ask  the  obhgants  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  tlie  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  PR UDENT  STE  WARD.  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,  moreovei,  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.-f 
 
 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  01 
 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 
 ])lea  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  PR  UDENT  STE  \VA  RD. 
 
 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  tlie  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  PR UDENT  STE  WARD.  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  (Trof^/crare 
 kavToi^  (piXovg  e/c  tov  /uajucova  rri^  aSiKias:),  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,  et^  rijv  yei'euv  rtjv  eavrwv, 
 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. 
 
 ^ 
 
46o  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  thebed  of  death, — have  we  an  ever- 
 lasting habitation  ready  to  receive  the  departing  spirit  ? 
 
THE  PR UDENT  STE  WARD.  46 1 
 
 IMore  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. 
 
46 2  THE  PR UDENT  STE  WARD. 
 
 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  or 
 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  t  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  unri<jhtcousness,"  &c 
 
464  '1  HE  PR  UDENT  S  TE  t  VA  KD. 
 
 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  ; 
 }-ou  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  of 
 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  wouldest 
 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.  Abiaham  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- 
 
 HE  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 
 
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  iSth  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 — d 
 scene  which  is  frequently  repeated  in  modern  missions  among  the  heathen. 
 
 t  Dr  Trench's  disquisition  regarding  the  latent  union  between  covetous- 
 njess  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  taught  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  w^hich  spiritual  things 
 are  represented  by  sensible  objects,  or  simply  an  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, 
 iiungry,  homeless,  within  reach  of  the  privileged  people,  yet  by  them  left 
 destitute.  Both  die  :  the  old  dispensation  rims  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,  arc  cast  out.     In  this  case,  as  in  thai 
 
463  THE  RICH  MAN  AXD  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  pohshed  instrument  in  the  light, 
 that  it  shall  throw  off  bright  glimpses  of  great  evangelic  facts  and  doctrines. 
 I'erhaps  the  Lord,  in  constructing  it,  kept  this  capability  in  Naew  ;  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.  469 
 
 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  beggars  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. 
 
470  THE  RICH  MAN  AXD  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 
 iruni  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  hac^ 
 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. 
 
47  2  THE  RICH  MAX  AND  LAZARUS. 
 
 \\\  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  struoro-le  of  a  livine 
 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  where  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  LAZA R US. 
 
 the  mystery  we  are  led  at  every  step.  While  the  outline 
 of  the  landscape  is  defined  sufficiently  for  the  purpose  oi 
 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  w^orld,  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  efi"ectually  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.  ^75 
 
 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  iPather ;  but  there  is  no  way  of  pass- 
 ing from  death  unto  Hfe,  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 
 
4  7  S  THE  RICH  MA  N  A  ND  LAZA  R  US. 
 
 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  J/AJV  AND  LAZARUS.  479 
 
 and  <jood  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 :  "  I  am  the  way,  ....  no  man 
 comcth  unto  the  Father  but  bv  me." 
 
\ 
 
 4'^o  yy/^-  KIC//  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  \asion  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 
 '.ve  cannot  obtain  a  change  of  condition  beyond  it;  and 
 
THE  RICH  MAN  AND  LAZARUS.  48 1 
 
 he  has  revealed  to  us  this  truth  in  order  that  we  might 
 be  induced  now  to  make  our  caUing  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;  the  way  is  open,  and  the  per- 
 ennial invitation  resounds  from  the  Gospel,  "  Come  unto 
 me;"  but  to  those  who  pass  from  this  life  without  having 
 obeyed  that  call,  there  remaineth  no  more  sacrifice  for 
 y  sin,  no  more  a  refuge  from  judgment. 
 
 This  word  of  Christ  is  not  of  any  private  interpretation; 
 it  may  have  pointed  to  Herod  or  to  the  Pharisees  in  the 
 first  instance,  but  it  was  of  the  nature  of  a  seed,  and  its 
 applications  multiply  a  hundred  times  a  hundred  fold 
 down  through  the  history  of  the  world.  We  may  find 
 the  rich  man  in  this  land  to-day  as  certainly  as  in  the 
 circle  that  listened  that  day  to  the  preaching  of  Jesus. 
 We  find  the  counterpart  of  this  picture,  not  only  in  indi- 
 viduals, but  in  associated  churches;  and  if  Christians, 
 both  in  their  private  and  corporate  capacities,  are  rich 
 both  in  temporal  means  and  spiritual  privileges,  they 
 need  not  go  far  to  seek  for  the  Lazarus  who  is  laid  at 
 their  gate.  Lazarus  lies  in  the  streets  and  lanes  of  our 
 opulent  cities;  and,  oh,  he  is  full  of  sores!  For  his  sake, 
 for  Christ's  sake,  for  our  own  sake,  we  must  go  out  and 
 show  him  kindness.  Dives  lost  his  opportunity, — lost  it 
 for  ever:  we  must  **  haste  to  the  rescue"  lest  we  lose 
 ours  too.  If  we  love  the  Lord,  our  love  will  stir  and  burst 
 out  and  overflow  in  life.  The  life  that  will  exercise  itself 
 in  Christ-like  charity  must  begin  now;  and  if  a  new  life 
 in  the  Lord  begin,  it  will  reveal  itself  in  love's  labour. 
 If  wc  are  bought  with  a  price  and  quickened  by  the 
 Spirit,  the  beggar  at  our  gate  will  soon  discover  the 
 change.  He  will  not  be  left  longer  to  the  mere  prompt- 
 ly) 31 
 
4^2  THE  RICH  MAN  AND  LAZARUS. 
 
 Ings  of  natural  instinct  among  his  neighbours  for  the 
 soothing  of  his  sorrows;  the  warm  skilful  hand  of  intelli- 
 gent and  affectionate  brotherhood  will  raise  him  up  and 
 minister  to  his  wants.  Lazarus,  instead  of  having  only 
 a  dog  to  lick  his  sores,  will  be  compassed  about  with 
 human  affections,  and  all  his  wants  supplied.  As  a  dis- 
 eased, miserable,  neglected  lazar  world  felt  the  coming  of 
 Christ,  the  poor  and  destitute  of  the  world's  inhabitants 
 will  know  when  a  loving,  hopeful  Christian  comes  within 
 reach.  Who  touched  me.^  might  the  huge  world  have 
 said,  if  it  had  possessed  intelligence,  when  God  became 
 man  and  dwelt  among  us.  Who  touched  me.?  will  the 
 outcasts  on  the  earth  begin  to  cry  as  they  awaken  to 
 consciousness,  when  a  revived  Church  has  visited  them  in 
 their  prison,  and  brought  to  them  the  bread  of  life. 
 
 ^ 
 
XXVII. 
 
 UNPROFITABLE  SERVANTS. 
 
 Then  said  he  unto  the  disciples,  It  is  impossible  but  that  oft'ences  will  come  :  but  woe 
 unto  him,  through  whom  they  come  !  It  were  better  for  him  that  a  millstone  were 
 hanged  about  his  neck,  and  he  cast  into  the  sea,  than  that  he  should  offend  one  of 
 these  little  ones.  Take  heed  to  yourselves  :  If  thy  brother  trespass  against  thee,  re- 
 buke him  ;  and  if  he  repent,  forgive  him.  And  if  he  trespass  against  thee  seven  times 
 in  a  day,  and  seven  times  in  a  day  turn  again  to  thee,  saying,  I  repent ;  thou  shall 
 forgive  him.  And  the  apostles  said  unto  the  Lord,  Increase  our  faith.  And  the  Lord 
 said,  If  ye  had  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard  seed,  ye  might  say  unto  this  sycamine  tree. 
 Be  thou  plucked  up  by  the  root,  and  be  thou  planted  in  the  sea;  and  it  should  obey 
 you.  But  which  of  you,  having  a  servant  plowing  or  feeding  cattle,  will  say  unto  him 
 by  and  by,  when  he  is  come  from  the  field.  Go  and  sit  down  to  meat?  And  will  not 
 rather  say  unto  him,  Make  ready  wherewith  I  may  sup,  and  gird  thyself,  and  serve 
 me,  till  I  have  eaten  and  drunken  ;  and  afterward  thou  shalt  eat  and  drink  ?  Doth  he 
 thank  that  servant  because  he  did  the  things  that  were  comnr.anded  him  ?  I  trow  not 
 So  likewise  ye,  when  ye  shall  have  done  all  those  things  which  are  commanded  you. 
 say,  We  are  unprofitable  servants  :  we  have  done  that  which  was  our  duty  to  do." — 
 Luke  xvii.  i-io. 
 
 E  are  accustomed  to  observe  a  connection,  more 
 or  less  intimate,  between  the  parable  and  the 
 history  that  precedes  it.  Generall}-,  some 
 recent  event,  or  some  question  by  friend  or 
 foe,  suggests  the  similitude.  In  almost  every  case  we 
 are  able  to  trace  the  natural  history,  as  it  were,  of  the 
 parable, — to  determine  what  feature  of  the  events  or  dis- 
 courses preceding  called  up  the  image  and  gave  it  shape. 
 Here  the  relation  between  the  parable  and  the  antecedent- 
 instruction  is  closer  still  :  in  this  case  there  is  not  merely 
 a  connection,  but  an  absolute  union.  The  direct  and  the 
 metaphorical  are  here  successively  employed  to  enforce 
 
484  UNPROFITABLE  SERVANTS. 
 
 one  continuous  lesson.  Tlie  lesson  is  one  :  the  first  por- 
 tion of  it  is  delivered  in  simple  didactic  language,  and  the 
 second  in  parabolic  figure.  Some  instruments  are  made 
 of  two  different  kinds  of  metal,  not  mixed  in  the  crucible, 
 but  each  occupying  its  own  separate  place :  one  part 
 consists  of  steel,  and  another  of  brass,  soldered  together, 
 so  as  to  constitute  one  rod.  The  nature  of  the  work  is 
 such  that  steel  suits  best  for  one  extremity  of  the  tool,  and 
 brass  for  the  other.  It  is  in  a  similar  way  that  two  dif- 
 ferent forms  of  speech  are  employed  here  to  impart  one 
 lesson  :  the  discourse  begins  with  literal  expressions,  and 
 ends  with  a  similitude. 
 
 The  passage  i-io  as  a  whole,  teaches  the  double  truth, 
 That  God  requires  of  men  a  complete  obedience,  and  that 
 even  though  a  complete  obedience  were  rendered,  the 
 master  would  not  be  laid  under  any  obligation — the  ser- 
 vants would  have  no  claim  to  praise  or  reward.  While 
 the  rule  towards  the  close  is  made  universal,  in  the  be- 
 ginning the  demand  is  particular  and  specific — to  bear 
 meekly  and  forgive  generously  the  injuries  which  neigh- 
 bours may  inflict  in  the  multifarious  intercourse  of  life. 
 Besides  the  point  which  constitutes  the  main  scope  of  the 
 discourse,  several  matters  of  the  very  highest  importance 
 are  incidentally  involved,  and  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  eftectual  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  nciglibour 
 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  ix.),  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.  4S7 
 
 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  reheved.  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.  15-22),  regarding  the  repeti- 
 tion of  injuries.  The  duty  of  forgiving  a  repenting 
 injurer  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. 
 
4SS  UNPROFITABLE  SERVANTS. 
 
 Ver.  5.  "And  the  apostles  said  unto  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  the  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  by  love  is  not  of  themselves, 
 but  is  the  gift  of  God  through  his  Son.  In  all  this,  having 
 been  secretly  taught  of  the  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  of  the  Master  (ver.  6),  it  is  distinctly  assumed  as  a 
 fundamental  truth  in  religion,  that  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  of  enduring  and  forgiving,  but  for  more  faith 
 which  will  strengthen  them  on  this  side,  and  on  all  other 
 
UNPROFITABLE  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  conduits  were  accordingly 
 led :  and  when  water  from  one  of  these  was  suddenly 
 wanted,  you  opened  it  but  found  that  little  or  none  could 
 be  obtained.  You  cry  out  for  a  new  supply  to  the  cistern ; 
 that  supply  given  will  fill  this  channel  which  is  for  the 
 the  moment  in  requisition,  and  all  the  other  channels  at 
 the  same  time.  Endurance  and  forgiving — more  than  we 
 are  able  to  bear  and  bestow — are  at  this  moment  required 
 of  us  ;  but  if  we  had  more  faith,  we  should  exhibit  more 
 of  these  graces,  and  more  of  all  graces. 
 
 The  Lord  in  his  answer  acknowledges  that  their  infer- 
 ence is  correct.  By  another  form  of  expression,  similar 
 in  character  to  the  "  seven  times  in  a  day,"  he  intimates 
 that  faith  possesses  an  unlimited  power  of  production  in  the 
 department  of  doing.  To  intensify  the  result  he  employs 
 a  double  hyperbole,  as  engineers  employ  two  pairs  of 
 wheels  to  generate  extreme  rapidity  of  motion;  the 
 smallest  spark  of  faith  will  overcome  the  greatest  obstacles 
 that  may  lie  across  a  Christian's  path.  Again,  the  same 
 idea  which  appeared  before  in  Matt.  xvii.  20,  is  expressed 
 here  by  a  different  figure  :  in  both  cases  the  Lord  intends 
 to  intimate  that  what  without  faith  is  impossible,  may 
 with  faith  be  done.  In  Matthew  the  impossible  is  repre- 
 sented by  the  removal  of  a  mountain ;  in  Luke  by  the 
 planting  of  a  sycamore  in  the  sea.  By  these  forms  our 
 Teacher  conveys  his  meaning  with  amazing  distinctness. 
 The  letters  of  his  lessons  thus  sharply,  deeply  cut,  remain 
 indeed  dead  letters  to  those  who  have  not  experienced 
 the  grace  of  God  ;  as  letters  of  a  book,  the  largest  and 
 loveliest  lie  meaningless  before  the  eyes  of  a  savage  or  a 
 little  child;  but   in   either  case,   as  soon  as  the  scholar 
 
490  UNPROFITABLE  SERVANTS. 
 
 becomes  capable  of  understanding,  the  meaning  shines 
 forth  Hke  light.  It  would  be  a  great  transition  from  our 
 present  position  of  impotence,  if  we  should  become  able 
 to  remove  a  mountain,  or  plant  a  sycamore  in  the  sea  ; 
 such  and  so  great  is  the  transition  when  a  man  passes  from 
 death  in  sin  to  life  in  Christ;  such  and  so  great  the  differ- 
 ence between  what  he  could  bear,  and  hope,  and  do  while 
 he  was  at  enmity  with  God,  and  what  he  can  bear,  and 
 hope,  and  do  when  he  is  reconciled  to  God  through  the 
 death  of  his  Son. 
 
 The  particular  requirement  which  on  this  occasion  put 
 the  faith  of  the  disciples  under  a  strain  greater  than  it  was 
 able  to  meet,  was  the  endurance  and  the  forgiving  of 
 injuries;  but  this  Scripture  must  not  be  limited  to  a 
 private  interpretation ;  this  is  a  specimen  shown  in  illus- 
 tration of  a  general  rule.  There  are  diversities  of  opera- 
 tion, under  the  providence  of  God  our  Father;  now 
 the  faith  of  Christians  is  tested  in  one  way,  and  then  in 
 another.  At  one  time  they  are  called  actively  to  do  a  great 
 work ;  and  at  another  time  passively  to  bear  a  great  burden. 
 The  work  required  of  one  disciple  is  a  mission  to  the 
 dark  places  of  the  earth ;  and  the  work  required  of  another 
 is  to  bear  patiently  many  years  of  pain  and  weariness,  in 
 his  own  home,  it  may  be  on  his  own  bed.  By  both  alike 
 the  kingdom  of  Christ  may  be  advanced:  from  both 
 equally  when  they  are  bruised, — the  one  by  great  effort, 
 and  the  other  by  a  heavy  weight, — the  odour  of  a  holy 
 temper  may  be  diffused  all  around. 
 
 We  are  not  masters ;  we  are  serv^ants.  The  Lord 
 appoints  to  each  his  place,  and  his  work. 
 
 The  lesson  now  passes  into  the  parable.  When  he 
 had  pointed  out  how  great  is  God's  claim,  and  how  large 
 
UNPROFITABLE  SERVANTS.  491 
 
 faith's  performance  might  become  in  the  hfe  of  a  disciple, 
 Jesus  warns  them,  on  the  other  side,  that  the  greatest 
 possible,  the  greatest  conceivable  attainment  in  the  direc- 
 tion of  a  believing  obedience,  implies  absolutely  no  inde- 
 pendent merit  in  man  ;  obedience,  although  it  reached 
 the  utmost  point  of  perfection,  would  still  leave  God  in- 
 debted to  man  for  nothing,  and  man  indebted  to  God  for  all. 
 "  But  which  of  you  having  a  servant  ploughing  or  feed- 
 ing cattle."  The  state  of  society  which  supplies  the 
 ground-work  of  this  parable  is  in  many  respects  different 
 from  that  which  prevails  in  modern  Europe.  It  is  espe- 
 cially important  here  to  notice  the  difference  in  these  two 
 features: — 
 
 I.   It  is  a  simple  pastoral  life  that  constitutes  the  basis 
 of  this  picture.     The  principle  of  division  of  labour  exists 
 there  in  its  lowest  stages  of  development.     It  is  assumed 
 as  a  common  and  proper  thing  to  employ  a  shepherd  or  a 
 ploughman  in  serving  his   master  at  table — a  practice 
 entirely  unknown  among  us.     2.  The   servitude   in   the 
 instance   supposed  was  not  a  voluntary  limited  engage- 
 ment, but  a    species   of  slavery :    the   master's   control 
 was  much  more  absolute  and  complete  than  it  is  among 
 us.     The  servant's  toil  might  be,  and  probably  in  many 
 cases  actually  was,  on  the  whole,  not  heavier  than  that  to 
 which  our  hired  servants  are  subjected  ;  but  the  measure 
 of  the  labour,  both  as   to  its  endurance  and  its  severity, 
 depended  there  on  the  master's  will  rather  than  on  the 
 servant's    freedom.      The  master,  under  the   species  of 
 relation  which  then  largely  prevailed,  could  demand  of 
 his   servant   on  occasion   an   amount  and   continuity  of 
 service  which  now  is  not  demanded  on  the  one  side,  and 
 would  not  be  rendered  on  the  other. 
 
 It  should  be  noticed,  however,  that  the  service  which  is 
 
492  UXPROFITAELE  SERVANTS. 
 
 in  the  parable  required  and  rendered,  is  both  in  character 
 and  quantity  extreme.  An  ordinary  example  of  a  ser- 
 vant's work  would  not  have  suited  the  purpose  of  the 
 I-ord  ;  he  needed  a  line  stretched  to  its  utmost  limits. 
 His  purpose  is  to  teach  that  the  utmost  conceivable 
 amount  of  obedience  on  man's  part  is  not  independently 
 meritorious  before  God  ;  and,  in  searching  among  tem- 
 poral things  for  a  suitable  analogy,  he  selected  a  case  in 
 which  the  line  stretched  from  one  extremity  to  the  other. 
 
 When  the  servant  has  finished  his  day's  work  on  the 
 pasture  or  in  the  field,  at  his  return,  and  before  he  obtain 
 either  rest  or  food,  he  is  compelled  to  wait  upon  his 
 master  at  table.  Even  this  extreme  measure  of  work  is 
 required  by  the  master  and  rendered  by  the  servant  as 
 within  the  limits  of  their  respective  rights  :  the  servant 
 even  in  that  case  has  done  no  more  than  was  due. 
 
 "  So  likewise  ye,  when  ye  shall  have  done  all  these 
 things  which  are  commanded  you,  say,  We  are  unprofi- 
 table servants." 
 
 God  has  given  all,  owns  all,  has  a  right  to  all.  We  are 
 his  by  right  of  creation,  and  his  by  redemption,  when  we 
 are  in  Christ.  Christians  are  not  their  own  ;  they  are 
 bought  with  a  price.  Themselves,  and  their  faculties, 
 and  their  capabilities  belong  to  God,  their  Creator  and 
 Redeemer.  When  they  have  rendered  all  their  powers, 
 and  all  the  product  of  these  powers,  absolutely  up  to 
 God's  will,  they  have  done  no  more  than  rendered  to  him 
 his  own.  "  Will  a  man  rob  God }  yet  ye  have  robbed 
 me"  (Mai.  iii.  8).  It  is  an  aggravated  sin  to  rob  God  of 
 what  is  his  ;  but  it  is  no  merit  or  ground  of  praise  simply 
 to  refrain  from  robbing  him  ;  and  this  is  all  that  the 
 creature's  obedience  would  amount  to,  although  it  were 
 complete. 
 
UNPROFITABLE  SERVANTS.  493 
 
 Our  Master  ordinarily  makes  our  work  easy;  he  is 
 gentle,  and  easy  to  be  entreated.  "  As  a  father  pitieth 
 his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that  fear  him:" 
 but  at  his  pleasure,  and  doubtless  in  deep  ways  for  their 
 good,  he  sometimes  lays  extraordinary  burdens  on  his 
 own.  He  may  permit  offences  to  come,  trying  your 
 temper  ;  he  may  permit  sickness  to  overtake  you,  trying 
 your  patience  ;  he  may  permit  temptations  to  assail  you, 
 trying  your  faith  even  at  its  foundations  ;  he  may  require 
 of  you  great  and  varied  activity,  trying  your  willingness 
 to  run  at  his  call.  These  burdens  seem  heavy,  as  the 
 master's  demand  of  service  in  the  house  seemed  heavy  to 
 the  servant  when  he  returned  weary  and  hungry  from 
 field  labour  ;  but  although  we  should  bear  them  all  with 
 complete  uncomplaining  alacrity,  we  should  acquire  there- 
 by no  right  to  reward. 
 
 There  is  absolutely  no  such  thing  as  a  surplus  of  merit 
 in  man.  The  imagination  of  it  has  ever  been  rife  in 
 man-made  religions,  as  weeds  spring  thick  and  spontaneous 
 from  the  ground  ;  but  never  and  nowhere  is  there  any 
 substantial  foundation  for  this  human  conceit.  It  springs 
 in  the  deepest  ignorance,  and  it  withers  when  the  light  of 
 knowledge  begins  to  shine.  It  rests  on  an  entire  mis- 
 apprehension of  the  relations  between  God  and  man. 
 If  a  man  on  ship-board,  thinking  that  the  ship  was 
 about  to  sink,  on  account  of  being  too  heavil}'  loaded, 
 should  grasp  the  shrouds,  and  hang  on  them  with  all  his 
 weight,  by  way  of  lightening  the  ship,  the  bystanders 
 would  count  him  fatuous;  and  yet  such  is  the  folly  of 
 him  who,  getting  all  from  God,  imagines  that  he  has 
 conferred  on  God  a  favour  by  a  surplus  of  goodness.  I 
 have  seen  grown  people,  in  possession  of  all  their  facul- 
 ties, able  to  read,  if  not  further  educated,  when,  in  cross- 
 
494  UNPROFITABLE  SERVANTS. 
 
 ing  a  river  by  a  ferry,  they  apprehended  danger,  applying 
 both  their  hands  to  the  side  of  the  boat  in  which  they 
 stood,  and,  pushing  with  all  their  might,  in  order  to  push 
 it  towards  a  place  of  safety.  This  implies  the  grossest 
 ignorance,  or  at  least  the  total  forgetfulness  for  the  time 
 of  the  most  obvious  and  ordinary  of  the  natural  laws  ; 
 and  yet  I  have  found  that  these  persons  had  quite  enough 
 of  wit  to  manage  all  their  ordinary  affairs,  and  to  get 
 along  respectably  in  society.  I  think  there  is  some  ana- 
 logy between  this  case  and  the  case  of  those  who,  intelli- 
 gent on  other  points,  yet  blindly  imagine  that  they  merit 
 praise  for  not  squandering  God's  gifts  that  have  been 
 placed  under  their  care. 
 
 "  When  ye  have  done  all,  say,  We  are  unprofitable 
 servants" — servants  whom  the  master  did  not  need,  and 
 who  contribute  nothing  to  him.  The  question  whether 
 the  Lord  conceded  that  in  point  of  fact  any  man  ever 
 does  perfectly  perform  all  his  duty  is  out  of  place  here ; 
 The  Lord's  meaning  is,  even  although  a  man  should  do 
 all,  he  would  still  be  destitute  of  merit  before  God  ; 
 much  more  are  those  destitute  of  merit  who  come  far 
 short  of  perfection,  and  to  this  class  belong  all,  even  the 
 best  of  the  children  of  men. 
 
 Means  and  opportunities  of  bearing  evil  and  doing 
 good  are  in  providence  conceded  to  every  one  of  us ;  and 
 the  law  announced  in  another  parable  holds  good  here ; 
 If  we  improve  aright  the  talents  which  we  possess,  more 
 will  forthwith  be  entrusted  to  us. 
 
 There  is  room  for  advancement  ;  and,  when  grace  is 
 begun,  it  is  sweet  to  grow  in  grace.  If  we  had  power  to 
 add  cubit  by  cubit  to  our  stature,  we  should  have  far  to 
 grow  ere  our  head  should  strike  the  heavens  ;  and  in 
 bearing  meekly,  and  acting  righteously,  and  living  purely, 
 
UNPROFITABLE  SERVANTS.  495 
 
 we  have  room  enough  to  expand :  it  will  be  long  ere  we 
 have  done  all,  and  so  our  progress  be  stopped  by  striking 
 the  boundary.  Forgetting  the  things  that  are  behind, 
 and  reaching  forth  to  those  that  are  before,  we  may  press 
 on  and  ever  on  ;  yet  there  is  room. 
 
 Nor  let  any  one  think  that  bearing  and  doing  God's 
 will  must  be  less  blessed  when  we  learn  that  God  did 
 not  need  this  at  our  hand,  and  that  we  do  not  thereby 
 lay  him  under  obligation  to  us.  When  one  is  truly 
 taught  of  the  Spirit,  it  will  increase  and  not  diminish  the 
 pleasure  which  he  enjoys  in  obedience,  to  learn  that  all 
 he  is,  and  has,  and  does,  comes  from  God.  A  dependent 
 is  happier  than  an  independent  position  for  human 
 beings,  if  he  on  whom  they  hang  is  great  and  good.  The 
 life  of  a  child  is  happiest  during  the  period  when  he  has 
 no  possession  of  his  own,  and  desires  none, — when  he  gets 
 all  as  he  needs  from  his  father  ;  on  this  side,  as  well  as 
 on  others,  we  must  receive  the  kingdom  as  a  little  child. 
 
 Here  is  a  little  stream  trickling  down  the  mountain 
 side.  As  it  proceeds,  other  streams  join  it  in  succession 
 from  the  right  and  left  until  it  becomes  a  river.  Ever 
 flowing,  and  ever  increasing  as  it  flows,  it  thinks  it  will 
 make  a  great  contribution  to  the  ocean  when  it  shall  reach 
 the  shore  at  length.  No,  river,  you  are  an  unprofitable 
 servant ;  the  ocean  does  not  need  you  ;  could  do  as  well 
 and  be  as  full  without  you  ;  is  not  in  any  measure  made 
 up  by  you.  True,  rejoins  the  river,  the  ocean  is  so  great 
 that  all  my  volume  poured  into  it  makes  no  sensible 
 difl'erence  ;  but  still  I  contribute  so  much,  and  this,  as  far 
 as  it  goes,  increases  the  amount  of  the  ocean's  supply. 
 No  :  this  indeed  is  the  seeming  to  the  ignorant  observer 
 on  the  spot ;  but  whoever  obtains  deeper  knowledge  and 
 a  wider  range,  will  discover  and  confess  that  the  river  is 
 
49^  UiX PROF  I  TABLE  SERVANTS. 
 
 an  unprofitable  servant  to  the  sea — that  it  contributes  ab- 
 solutely nothing  to  the  sea's  store.  From  the  ocean  canit 
 every  drop  of  water  that  rolls  down  in  that  river's  bed, 
 alike  those  that  fell  into  it  in  rain  from  the  sky,  and  those 
 that  flowed  into  it  from  tributary  rivers,  and  those  that 
 sprang  from  hidden  veins  in  the  earth.  Even  although  it 
 should  restore  all,  it  gives  only  what  it  received.  It  could 
 not  flow,  it  could  not  be,  without  the  free  gift  of  all  from 
 the  sea.  To  the  sea  it  owes  its  existence  and  power.  The 
 sea  owes  it  nothing  ;  would  be  as  broad  and  deep  although 
 this  river  had  never  been.  But  all  this  natural  process 
 goes  on,  sweetly  and  beneficently,  notwithstanding  :  the 
 river  gets  and  gives  ;  the  ocean  gives  and  gets.  Thus 
 the  circle  goes  round,  beneficent  to  creation,  glorious  to 
 God. 
 
 Thus,  in  the  spiritual  sphere, — in  the  world  that  God 
 has  created  by  the  Spirit  of  his  Son,  circulations  beautiful 
 and  beneficent  continually  play.  From  him,  and  by  him, 
 and  to  him  are  all  things.  To  the  saved  man  through 
 whom  God's  mercy  flows,  the  activity  is  unspeakably 
 precious  :  to  him  the  profit,  but  to  God  the  praise. 
 
 -^^ 
 
XXVIII. 
 
 THE   IMPORTUNATE   WIDOW. 
 
 "  And  he  spake  a  parable  unto  them  to  this  end,  that  men  ought  always  to  pray,  and  not 
 to  faint :  saying,  There  was  in  a  city  a  judge,  which  feared  not  God,  neither  regarded 
 man  :  and  there  was  a  widow  in  that  city ;  and  she  came  unto  him,  saying,  Avenge 
 me  of  mine  adversary.  And  he  would  not  for  a  while  :  but  afterwards  he  said  within 
 himself.  Though  I  fear  not  God,  nor  regard  man  ;  yet  because  this  widow  troubleth 
 me,  I  will  avenge  her,  lest  by  her  continual  coming  she  weary  me.  And  the  Lord  said, 
 Hear  what  the  unjust  judge  saith.  And  shall  not  God  avenge  his  own  elect,  which  cry 
 day  and  night  unto  him,  though  he  bear  long  with  them?  I  tell  you  that  he  will 
 avenge  them  speedily.  Nevertheless  when  the  Son  of  man  cometh;  shall  he  find  faith 
 on  the  earth?" — Luke  xviii.  i-8. 
 
 MONG  the  parables  this  one  is  signalized  by  the 
 distinctness  with  which  its  object  is  announced 
 at  the  commencement,  and  the  principle  of  its 
 interpretation  at  the  close.  No  room  is  left 
 here  for  diversity  of  opinion  regarding  the  lesson  which 
 the  Lord  intended  to  teach,  or  the  manner  in  which  the 
 parable  should  be  expounded.  The  design  is  expressed 
 in  verse  first ;  the  rule  of  interpretation  in  verses  sixth 
 and  seventh.  Why  did  the  Master  tell  this  story  to  his 
 disciples  ?  To  teach  them  "  that  men  ought  to  pray 
 always,  and  not  to  faint."  How  may  this  lesson  be  derived 
 from  it  ?  As  the  widow  by  her  unremitting  cry  obtained 
 her  desire  from  the  judge,  God's  own  redeemed  children 
 will  obtain  from  their  Father  in  heaven  all  that  they  need, 
 
 if  they  ask  it  eagerly,  persistently,  unwearyingl)' 
 When    we    rightly    comprehend    the 
 (9)  32 
 
 design 
 
 of    the 
 
49S  THE  IMPORTUNATE  WIDOW. 
 
 parable,  the  difficulty  connected  with  the  bad  charac- 
 ter of  the  judge  at  once  disappears.  It  was  necessary  to 
 go  to  a  corrupt  tribunal  in  order  to  find  a  suitable  case  ; 
 a  pure  judgment  seat  supplies  no  such  example.  In 
 certain  circumstances  you  might,  gather  from  a  dunghill 
 a  medicinal  herb  which  cleaner  ground  would  never  bear. 
 The  grain  which  becomes  our  bread  grows  best  when  its 
 roots  are  spread  in  unseen  corruption  ;  and  so  perfect  is 
 the  chemistry  of  nature,  that  the  yellow  ears  of  harvest 
 retain  absolutely  no  taint  of  the  putrescence  whence  they 
 sprung.  Thus  easily  and  perfectly  the  Lord  brings  lessons 
 of  holiness  from  examples  of  sin.  He  pauses  not  to 
 apologize  or  explain :  majestically  the  instruction  ad- 
 vances, like  the  processes  of  nature,  until  the  unrighteous- 
 ness of  man  defines  and  illustrates  the  mercy  of  God. 
 
 It  is  not  by  accident, — it  is  by  choice  that  this  seed  of 
 the  word  is  sown  on  filthy  ground :  it  is  sown  there,  because 
 it  will  grow  best  there.  The  experience  of  a  righteous 
 human  tribunal  does  not  supply  the  material  of  this  lesson. 
 Where  the  presiding  judge  is  just,  a  poor  injured  widov/ 
 will  obtain  redress  at  once,  and  her  perseverance  will  never 
 be  put  to  the  test.  The  characteristic  feature  of  the  case 
 which  the  Lord  needed,  was  a  persistent,  unyielding  per- 
 severance in  the  cry  for  redress  ;  for  such  a  case  he  must 
 go  to  a  court  where  law  does  not  regulate  the  judge,  but 
 where  the  judge  for  his  own  ease  or  interest  makes  his 
 own  law.  The  feature  of  Christ's  teaching  which  most 
 arrested  intelligent  listeners  in  his  own  day,  was  its  in- 
 herent, self-evidencing  majesty.  Instead  of  seeking  props, 
 it  stood  forth  alone,  obviously  divine.  He  taught  with 
 authority,  and  not  as  die  scribes.  Here  is  an  example  of 
 that  simple  supremeness  that  is  at  once  a  witness  to  itself. 
 He  compares  explicitly  and  broadly  the  method  of  God's 
 
THE  IMPORTUNATE  WIDOW.  499 
 
 dealing,  as  the  hearer  of  prayer,  with  the  practice  of  a 
 judge  who  is  manifestly  vile  and  venal.  Nor  is  a  word 
 of  explanation  o|^  apology  interposed.  He  who  thus 
 simply  brings  sweet  food  from  noisome  carrion,  has  all 
 power  in  heaven  and  in  earth;  His  ways  are  not  as  our 
 ways,  nor  his  thoughts  as  our  thoughts. 
 
 As  he  needed  for  his  purpose  an  example  of  judicial 
 corruption,  examples  lay  ready  to  his  hand  in  human 
 history  ;  especially  in  the  practice  of  oriental  empires, 
 ancient  and  modern,  it  is  easy  to  find  cases  in  which  the 
 supreme  authority,  civil  and  criminal,  is  vested  in  a  deputy 
 who  habitually  sacrifices  justice  to  his  own  ease  or  interest. 
 
 The  thorough  badness  of  this  judge,  although  stated 
 distinctly,  is  stated  briefly;  it  is  not  made  prominent  in 
 the  parable,  and  should  not  be  made  prominent  in  the 
 interpretation  of  the  parable.  That  badness  on  both 
 sides,  towards  God  and  man,  is  I  apprehend  not  introduced 
 here  for  its  own  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  a  particular 
 effect  that  resulted  from  it  ; — the  frequent,  persevering 
 appeals  of  the  widow  for  redress.  This  is  the  thing  that 
 is  needed  and  used  in  the  Lord's  lesson  ;  and  although 
 the  injustice  of  the  judge  stands  distinctly  out  on  the 
 face  of  the  parable,  it  is  like  the  forest  tree  in  the  vine- 
 yards of  Italy,  used  only  to  hold  up  the  vine.  Earnest, 
 repeated,  unyielding  appeal  by  a  needy,  feeble  suppliant 
 before  the  throne  of  power ; — this  is  the  fruit  which  is 
 precious  for  the  Teacher's  purpose,  and  the  hollow  heart 
 of  the  epicurean  judge  is  employed  only  as  the  trunk  to 
 bear  it.  When  it  has  held  up  that  fruit  to  be  ripened, 
 itself  may  be  thrown  away. 
 
 At  certain  points  in  frequented  routes  through  romantic 
 scenery  it  is  customary  to  fire  a  gun  in  order  to  afford 
 the  tourists  an  opportunity  of  hearing  the  echoes  answer- 
 
500  THE  IMPORTUNATE   WIDOW. 
 
 ing  each  other  in  the  neighbouring  mountains.  The 
 explosion  is  in  place  nearest,  in  time  first,  and  as  to 
 sound  loudest,  but  this  the  most  artic^ilate  and  arrestive 
 fact  is  employed  exclusively  for  the  purpose  of  producing 
 the  subsequent  and  more  distant  echo.  The  explosion 
 is  instantly  dismissed  from  the  mind  and  attention  con- 
 centrated on  the  reverberation  which  it  called  forth.  The 
 conduct  of  the  judge  in  this  parable  stands  precisely  in 
 the  place  of  that  explosion.  When  it  has  produced  the 
 widow's  importunity  it  is  of  no  further  use ;  it  must  be 
 thrown  aside. 
 
 Let  us  hear  now  the  interpretation, — "And  the  Lord 
 said,  Hear  what  the  unjust  judge  saith,"  &c.  God's  own 
 chosen  and  redeemed  people  correspond  to  the  suppliant 
 widow  in  the  parable.  They  are  like  her  in  her  suffer- 
 ing and  her  weakness;  they  should  be  like  her  too  in 
 her  unintermittent,  persevering  cry. 
 
 Like  other  similar  lessons,  this  one  bears  equally  on 
 the  Church  as  a  body,  and  on  an  individual  Christian. 
 The  Church  collective,  in  times  of  persecution,  and  a  soul 
 surrounded  by  temptations,  stand  equally  in  the  place  of 
 the  poor  widow;  they  are  in  need  and  in  danger.  They 
 have  no  resources  in  themselves;  help  must  come  from 
 one  that  is  mighty.  It  is  their  interest  to  plead  \tith  him 
 who  has  all  power  in  heaven  and  in  earth, — to  plead  as 
 men  plead  for  life. 
 
 The  lesson  here  is  very  specific;  it  bears  on  one  point, 
 and  in  order  that  all  its  force  may  be  concentrated  on 
 one  point,  others  are  for  the  time  omitted.  This  parable  is 
 not  spoken  with  the  view  of  teaching  that  Christians  ought 
 to  pray;  that  duty  is  assumed  here,  not  enjoined.  Neither 
 does  it  prescribe  what  the  suppliant  should  ask,  or  on 
 whose  merits  he  should   lean.      Taking  for  granted  al] 
 
THE  IMPORTUNATE  WIDOW.  501 
 
 these  things  which  the  Scriptures  elsewhere  expHcitly 
 teach,  the  Master  in  this  lesson  confines  his  attention 
 to  one  thing, — perseverance  in  prayer  when  the  answer 
 does  not  come  at  first,  perseverance  and  pertinacity  aye 
 and  until  the  object  is  attained. 
 
 It  is  expressly  intimated  in  the  narrative  that  there  is 
 sometimes  a  long,  and  from  our  view-point  inexplicable 
 delay.  This  is  the  meaning  of  the  expression  "  though 
 he  bear  long  with  them."  This  phrase  is  not  taken  here 
 in  its  ordinary  signification, — an  endurance  of  injuries; 
 it  means  that  he  holds  back  long,  and  resists  their  pres- 
 sure for  relief 
 
 Here  are  the  two  sides  over  against  each  other:  they 
 cry  day  and  night,  and  he,  hearing  their  continuous  cry, 
 refrains  from  bestowing  the  relief  for  which  they  passion- 
 ately plead.  As  God  keeps  back  the  answer,  they  re- 
 double the  cry;  as  they  redouble  the  cry,  God  still  with- 
 holds the  answer.  Expressly  we  are  informed  he  ^\^ll 
 give  answer;  he  will  avenge  his  own  elect.  The  eternal 
 Father  treasures  up  all  the  supplications  of  his  children,  and 
 he  will  yet  give  them  deliverance.  When  his  time  comes 
 the  deliverance  will  be  complete;  but  in  the  meantime 
 the  interesting  inquiry  presents  itself.  Why  does  he  delay 
 at  all.-*  In  the  light  of  Scripture  we  are  able  to  give  a 
 satisfactory  answer  to  this  inquiry. 
 
 The  reason  why  the  widow's  claims  were  left  long  un- 
 settled in  the  court  was  the  self-pleasing  indolence  of  the 
 judge.  The  love  of  his  own  ease  was  the  motive  that 
 induced  him  both  to  refuse  redress  at  first  and  to  grant 
 it  afterwards.  He  refused  to  avenge  her  until  he  per- 
 ceived that  to  do  her  justice  would  afford  him  less  trouble 
 than  to  withhold  it.  In  the  treatment  which  the  petitions 
 of  the  elect  receive  at  the  throne  of  God  there  is  nothini* 
 
50  2  THE  IMPORTUNATE  WIDOW. 
 
 in  common  with  the  conduct  of  the  unjust  judge,  except 
 the  delay.  The  fact  that  the  petitions  lie  for  some  time 
 unanswered  is  common  to  both  tribunals,  but  on  all  other 
 points  they  are  wholly  diverse,  and  even  the  single  feature 
 of  coincidence  springs  in  the  two  cases  from  opposite 
 grounds. 
 
 When  God  withholds  the  deliverance  for  which  his  chil- 
 dren plead  he  acts  with  wisdom  and  love  combined.  It 
 would  be,  so  to  speak,  easier  for  a  father  w^ho  is  at  once  rich 
 and  benevolent  to  comply  immediately  and  fully  with  all  the 
 child's  demands;  it  requires  and  exercises  a  deeper,  stronger 
 love  to  leave  the  child  crying  and  knocking  for  a  time  in  vain 
 that  the  bounty  given  at  the  proper  time  may  in  the  end  be 
 a  greater  boon.  I  once  knew  two  men  who  lived  near  each 
 other  in  similar  worldly  circumstances,  but  adopted  oppo- 
 site methods  in  the  treatment  of  their  children.  The 
 boys  of  this  family  obtained  money  from  their  father 
 when  they  asked  it,  and  spent  it  according  to  their  own 
 pleasure,  without  his  knowledge  or  control:  the  boys  of 
 that  family  often  asked,  but  seldom  received  a  similar 
 supply.  The  father  who  frequently  thwarted  his  chil- 
 dren's desires  loved  his  children  more  deeply,  and  as  the 
 result  showed,  more  wisely  than  the  father  who  could 
 not  summon  courage  sufficient  to  say  No.  The  wise 
 parent  bore  with  his  owii  when  they  pleaded  for  some 
 dangerous  indulgence,  and  the  bearing  wounded  his 
 tender  heart;  but  by  reason  of  his  greater  love,  he  bore 
 the  pain  of  hearing  their  cry  without  granting  their 
 request.  The  other  parent  was  too  indolent  and  self- 
 pleasing  to  endure  such  a  strain,  and  he  lived  to  taste  bit- 
 ter fruit  from  the  evil  seed  which  his  own  hand  had  sown, 
 
 For  the  same  reason,  and  in  the  same  manner,  our 
 Father  in  heaven  bears  with  his  own  when  they  cry  night 
 
THE  IMPORTUNATE  WIDOW.  503 
 
 and  day  to  him  for  something  on  which  their  hearts  are 
 set.  Because  he  loves  us  he  endures  to  hear  our  cry  and 
 see  our  tears.  We  do  not  certainly  know  what  thorn  it 
 was  that  penetrated  Paul's  flesh,  but  we  know  that  it 
 pained  him  much,  that  he  eagerly  desired  to  be  quit 
 of  it,  and  that  he  besought  the  Lord  thrice  to  take  it 
 away.  From  the  fact  that  the  child  pleaded  three  times 
 for  the  same  boon,  we  learn  that  the  Father  bore  with 
 him  awhile, — bore,  so  to  speak,  the  pain  of  refusing,  be- 
 cause he  knew  that  the  refusal  was  needful  for  Paul. 
 The  thorn  was  left  in  the  flesh  until  its  discipline  was 
 done,  and  then  it  was  plucked  out  by  a  strong  and  gentle 
 hand.  "My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee:"  there  are  no 
 thorns  in  Paul's  flesh  now. 
 
 The  case  of  the  Syro-Phoenician  woman  (Matt.  xv. 
 21-28)  runs  parallel  with  this  as  well  as  with  the"  Friend 
 at  midnight."  Mark  how  the  Lord  bore  with  the 
 woman.  He  delighted  in  her  faith ;  it  was  his  happiness 
 to  give,  and  yet  he  refused;  in  denying  her  he  denied 
 himself.  But  by  withholding  a  while,  he  kindled  her 
 love  into  a  brighter,  stronger  flame.  By  refusing  what 
 she  asked,  he  reduplicated  her  asking;  this  is  sweet  to 
 him  and  profitable  to  her.  By  the  long  delay  on  his 
 part  and  the  consequent  eager  repetition  of  the  request 
 on  her  part,  a  richer  boon  w^as  prepared  and  bestowed. 
 Her  appetite  was  greatly  quickened,  and  her  satisfying 
 was  more  full.  Who  shall  be  filled  most  abundantly 
 from  the  treasures  of  divine  mercy  at  last.?  Those  who 
 hungered  and  thirsted  most  for  these  treasures  in  the  houso 
 of  their  pilgrimage. 
 
 Think  of  the  plainness  of  this  lesson,  and  the  authority 
 which  it  possesses.  Its  meaning  cannot  be  mistaken;  we 
 know  what  is  spoken  here,  and  we  know  who  speaks. 
 
504  THE  IMFORTU.VATE  WJDOJV. 
 
 liath  he  spoken,  and  shall  he  not  make  it  good?  The 
 only  begotten  Son  who  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  he 
 hath  declared  him.  Show  us  the  Father,  said  Philip,  and 
 it  sufficeth  us;  here  Christ,  in  answer  to  his  disciples' 
 prayer,  is  showing  the  Father. 
 
 To  reveal  the  Father's  heart  he  spoke  this  parable. 
 The  helpless,  needy  woman  came  and  came  again,  and 
 cried,  and  would  take  no  refusal,  until  the  judge  was 
 compelled  by  her  importunity  to  grant  her  request:  and 
 this  is  the  picture  chosen  by  the  Lord  Jesus  when  he 
 desires  to  show  how  God  regards  suppliant  disciples  as 
 they  plead  at  his  footstool.  It  is  an  amazing  revelation, 
 and  the  best  of  it  is  its  truth.  He  who  gave  it  has  autho- 
 rity to  speak.  The  Son  will  not  misrepresent  the  Father; 
 the  Father's  honour  is  safe  in  this  Teacher's  hands.  We 
 learn  here,  then,  that  the  Hearer  of  prayer  puts  himself 
 in  the  power  of  a  suppliant.  He  permitted  Jacob  to 
 wrestle,  and  the  firmer  he  felt  the  grasp  the  more  he 
 loved  the  wrestler.  The  words,  "  I  will  not  let  thee  go 
 except  thou  bless  me,"  dropping  in  broken  fragments 
 from  his  lips  at  intervals  as  he  paused  and  panted,  were 
 sweeter  than  angels'  songs  in  the  ears  of  the  Lord  of 
 Hosts.  He  is  the  same  still,  as  he  is  in  the  New  Testa- 
 ment revealed  by  Jesus.  The  spirit  in  man  that  will  take 
 no  denial  is  his  special  delight ;  the  spirit  that  asks  once 
 and  ceases  he  cannot  away  with.  As  the  Lord  loveth  a 
 cheerful  giver,  he  loveth  too  an  eager  persevering  asker. 
 The  door  seems  narrow,  but  its  narrowness  was  not  meant 
 to  keep  us  out;  they  please  him  best  who  press  most 
 heavily  on  its  yielding  sides.  "  The  kingdom  of  heaven 
 suffereth  violence,  and  the  violent  take  it  by  force."  The 
 King  of  Glory  feels  well  pleased  the  warriors'  onset, — 
 gladly  welcomes  the  conqueror  in. 
 
THE  IMPORTUNATE   WIDOW.  505 
 
 It  is  indeed  blessed  to  give:  but  the  giver's  blessedness 
 is  greatly  marred  by  the  listlessness  of  the  needy  creatures 
 on  whom  he  has  bestowed  his  bounty.  If  they  who  need 
 and  get  the  goodness  are  insensible,  and  cold,  and  un- 
 grateful, the  joy  of  the  benefactor  is  proportionally  dimi- 
 nished. It  is  thus  with  "the  giving  God."  When  the 
 receiver  values  the  bounty,  the  delight  of  the  bestower 
 is  increased.  Thus  the  Lord  Jesus  was  specially  pleased 
 as  he  healed  the  daughter  of  the  Syro-Phoenician  mother 
 because  she  gave  evidence  by  her  importunity  how  much 
 she  valued  the  boon ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  his  plain- 
 tive question,  "  Where  are  the  nine.?"  when  the  lepers  took 
 their  cure  so  lightly,  shows  that  he  did  not  much  enjoy 
 the  act  of  healing  because  the  diseased  made  light  both 
 of  their  ailment  and  their  cure. 
 
 Come  near,  press  hard,  open  your  mouth  wide,  pray 
 without  ceasing;  for  this  is  the  kind  of  asking  that  the 
 great  Giver  loves.  Unforgiven  sin  on  the  conscience 
 keeps  the  sinful  distant,  and  Satan  calls  the  silence 
 modesty.  It  is  not;  they  most  honour  God  who  show 
 by  their  importunity  in  asking  that  they  value  his  gifts. 
 
 While  it  is  true  that  prayer  should  be  a  continuous 
 fulness  in  the  heart,  ever  pressing  outward  and  upward, 
 flowing  wherever  it  can  find  an  opening,  it  is  not  speci- 
 fically that  characteristic  to  which  this  parable  points. 
 This  is  not  the  lesson,  "In  everything  by  prayer  and  sup- 
 plication, with  thanksgiving,  let  your  requests  be  made 
 known  unto  God  :"  the  lesson  here  points  not  to  the 
 breadth  of  a  whole  spiritual  life,  but  to  the  length  of  one 
 line  that  runs  through  it.  Whatever  it  be  that  a  disciple 
 desires,  and  is  bent  upon  obtaining,  he  should  ask  not 
 once,  or  twice,  or  twenty  times,  but  ask  until  he  obtain 
 it ;  or  until  he  die  with  the  request  upon  his  lips  :  and  in 
 
^ 
 
 50*5  THE  IMPORTUNATE  WIDOW. 
 
 tliat  case  he  will  get  his  desire,  and  more.  Trust  in  God^ 
 trust  in  his  love.  He  who  has  not  spared  his  own  Son, 
 how  shall  he  not  with  him  freely  give  us  all  things  .<*  Do 
 not  deem  that  delay  is  proof  of  his  indifference.  Delaying 
 to  bestow  is  not  proof  of  indifference  in  God ;  'but  ceasing 
 to  ask  is  proof  of  indifference  in  man.  Christ  assures  us 
 he  will  give  :  that  should  induce  us  to  continue  asking. 
 
 Give  me  these  links — i.  Sense  of  need  ;  2.  Desire  to 
 get  ;  3.  Belief  that  God  has  it  in  store  ;  4.  Belief  that 
 though  he  withholds  awhile,  he  loves  to  be  asked  ;  and  5. 
 Belief  that  asking  will  obtain  ; — give  me  these  links,  and 
 the  chain  will  reach  from  earth  to  heaven,  bringing  heaven 
 all  down  to  me,  or  bearing  me  up  into  heaven. 
 
 While  it  is  right  to  generalize  the  lesson,  as  we  have 
 already  done,  it  is  our  duty  also  to  notice  the  special 
 form  of  the  widow's  prayer  and  the  Lord's  promise  :  in 
 both  cases  it  is  vengeance  against  an  adversary.  The 
 pleading  is  that  the  enemy  who  wronged  the  widow  should 
 be  punished  by  the  hand  of  powder :  the  promise  is  that 
 God  will  avenge  his  chosen  ones,  who  cry  to  him. 
 
 The  case  is  clearly  one  in  which  the  weak  are  overpowered 
 by  an  adversary  too  strong  for  them  :  unable  to  defend 
 themselves,  or  strike  down  their  foe,  they  betake  them- 
 selves to  God  in  prayer.  The  ailment  is  specific ;  such 
 also  is  the  request.  Do  justice  upon  this  enemy — rid  me 
 of  his  oppression  and  his  presence. 
 
 Ah,  when  a  soul  feels  sin's  power  a  bondage,  and 
 sin's  presence  a  loathsome  defilement ; — when  a  soul  so 
 oppressed  flees  to  the  Saviour  for  deliverance,  the  Lord 
 will  entertain  the  case,  and  grant  redress.  He  will  avenge. 
 "  The  God  of  peace  will  bruise  Satan  under  your  feet 
 shortly.'- 
 
 No    cry  that   rises  from   earth  to   heaven   sounds  so 
 
THE  IMPOR  TUNA  TE  JVIDO IV.  507 
 
 sweetly  in  the  ear  of  God  as  the  cry  for  vengeance  upon 
 the  enemy  of  souls.  When  there  is  peace  between  man 
 and  his  destroyer,  the  closet  is  silent,  and  no  groan  of 
 distress  from  the  deep  beats  against  the  gate  of  heaven. 
 This  is  not  what  Jesus  loves.  He  came  not  to  send  this 
 peace  on  earth,  or  in  heaven  ;  he  came  to  send  a  sword. 
 His  errand  was  to  produce  a  deadly  quarrel  between  the 
 captive  soul  and  the  wicked  one,  its  captivator.  When 
 the  cry  rises,  broken  and  stifled,  but  eager,  as  uttered  by 
 one  engaged  in  deadly  strife — when  the  cry,  "Avenge  me," 
 rises  from  earth,  God  in  heaven  hears  it  well  pleased.  He 
 delights  when  his  people,  hating  the  adversary  of  their 
 souls,  ask  him  for  vengeance  ;  and  he  will  grant  it.  Long 
 to  the  struggling  combatant  the  battle  seems  to  last,  but 
 speedily,  according  to  God's  just  reckoning,  the  avenging 
 stroke  will  fall.  If  there  is  delay  it  is  but  for  a  moment, 
 and  because  this  added  moment  of  conflict  will  make  the 
 everlasting  victory  more  sweet. 
 
 It  is  worthy  of  notice,  incidentally,  that  where  an  in- 
 dolent judge,  in  order  to  avoid  trouble,  gives  a  just  sen- 
 tence to-day,  he  may,  from  the  same  motive,  give  an 
 unjust  sentence  to-morrow.  He  who  taught  this  lesson, 
 knowing  all  that  should  befall  himself,  and  hastening 
 fonvard  to  his  final  suffering,  knew  well  that  deepest  sor- 
 row may  spring  from  the  selfishness  of  an  unjust  judge 
 which  happened  for  that  time  to  bring  deliverance  to  the 
 widow.  Pilate  was  precisely  such  a  magistrate.  Neither 
 fear  of  God  nor  regard  for  man  was  the  ultimate  reason 
 that  determined  his  decision  :  the  love  of  his  own  ease 
 and  safety  was  the  hinge  on  which  his  judgment  turned. 
 He  was  disposed  to  do  justly  rather  than  unjustly  in  the 
 case,  when  the  Jewish  rulers  dragged  Jesus  to  his  bar.  He 
 would    have   pronounced  a   righteous  judgment  if  that 
 
5o8  THE  IMPORTUNATE  WIDOW. 
 
 course  had  seemed  to  promise  greater  or  equal  advan- 
 tage to  himself.  But  the  priests  and  people  were,  like 
 this  widow,  very  importunate  and  persevering.  "Crucify 
 him,  crucify  him,"  they  cried.  "  Why,  what  evil  hath  he 
 done  V  "  Crucify  him,  crucify  him,"  rose  again  in  a  sound 
 like  the  voice  of  many  waters  from  the  heaving  throng. 
 "Shall  I  release  Jesus  V  interposed  the  irresolute  Pilate  ; 
 "Away  with  this  man,  and  giveusBarabbas,"wasthe  instant 
 reply.  "  Shall  I  crucify  your  king  .?"  said  Pilate,  making 
 yet  another  effort  to  escape  the  toils  that  were  closing 
 round  him  ;  but  this  fence  laid  him  open  to  the  heaviest 
 blow  of  all:  "If  thou  let  this  man  go,  thou  art  not  Caesar's 
 friend."  He  gave  way  at  last :  by  their  continual  coming 
 they  wearied  him,  and  he  abandoned  the  innocent  to  their 
 will. 
 
 Thus  the  unjust  as  well  as  the  just  judgment  seat  has 
 two  sides.  Jesus  gave  the  safe  side  to  the  poor  widow, 
 and  accepted  the  other  for  himself  He  became  poor 
 that  we  might  be  rich  :  he  was  condemned  that  we  might 
 be  set  free. 
 
XXIX. 
 
 THE    PHARISEE   AND   THE   PUBLICAN. 
 
 '  And  he  spake  this  parable  unto  certain  which  trusted  in  themselves  that  they  were  right- 
 eous,  and  despised  others  :  Two  men  went  up  Into  the  temple  to  pray ;  the  one  a 
 Pharisee,  and  the  other  a  publican.  The  Pharisee  stood  and  prayed  thus  with  him- 
 self, God,  I  thank  thee,  that  I  am  not  as  other  men  are,  extortioners,  unjust,  adul- 
 terers, or  even  as  this  publican.  I  fast  twice  in  the  week,  I  give  tithes  of  all  that  I 
 possess.  And  the  publican,  standing  afar  off,  would  not  lift  up  so  much  as  his  eyes  unto 
 heaven,  but  smote  upon  his  breast,  saying,  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner.  I  tell  you, 
 this  man  went  down  to  his  house  justified  rather  than  the  other  :  for  every  one  that 
 e.xalteth  himself  shall  be  abased;  and  he  that  humbleth  himself  shall  be  exalted." — 
 Luke  xviii.  9-14. 
 
 N  this  parable  two  great  classes  are  represented, 
 not    by    symbols,  but  by  specimens.      Self- 
 righteous  men  are  here  represented  by  a  self- 
 righteous   man,   and   repenting  sinners  by  a 
 repenting  sinner.     The  instruction  is  communicated,  not 
 obliquely  by  a  figure,  but  directly  by  a  fact.    The  quality 
 of  the  harvest  is  shown  by  samples  taken  from  the  heap. 
 If  allegory  were  deemed  an  essential  ingredient  of  a 
 parable,  this  lesson  of  the  Lord  would  necessarily  be  ex- 
 cluded from  the  list ;  but  I  am  not  disposed  to  adopt  such 
 a  narrow  and  artificial  definition.    Taking  a  general  view 
 of  its  substance,  rather  than  making  a  minute  inspection 
 of  its  form,  I  accept  the  Pharisee  and  the  publican  as  a 
 parable  according  to  the  common  consent  of  the  Church. 
 It  is  almost  entirely  free  from  critical  and  exegetical 
 difficulties  :  he  may  run  who  reads  its  lesson. 
 
 In  announcing  the  class  of  persons  for  whose  reproof 
 
5  1  o  l^HE  PHARISEE  AND  THE  PUBLICAN. 
 
 it  was  spoken,  the  evangelist  at  the  outset  suppHes  us 
 with  a  key  that  opens  all  its  meaning  : — "  Certain  which 
 trusted  in  themselves  that  they  were  righteous  and  de- 
 spised others,"  were  clustering  round  the  Teacher,  and 
 mingling  with  his  disciples.  He  spoke  this  parable  for 
 the  purpose  of  crushing  their  pride :  he  will  not  suffer  sin 
 upon  them.  For  their  instruction  and  reproof,  these 
 examples  are  selected  and  described. 
 
 It  is  not  necessary  to  suppose  that  the  parable  pointed 
 exclusively  to  those  who  were  Pharisees,  or  exclusively 
 to  those  who  were  not  :  it  concerned  all  who  were  self- 
 righteous,  to  whatever  sect  they  externally  belonged.  We 
 know  that  within  the  circle  of  Christ's  devoted  followers 
 much  of  this  spirit  still  lingered.  Peter  enumerated  the 
 sacrifices  which  he  and  his  comrades  had  made  for  their 
 Master,  and  bluntly  demanded  what  reward  they  might 
 expect  for  their  fidelity.  It  is  expressly  to  his  own 
 disciples  that  the  Lord,  on  another  occasion,  addresses 
 the  warning,  "  Beware  of  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees, 
 which  is  hypocrisy."  For  our  benefit,  then,  even  though 
 we  be  true  Christians — for  our  benefit,  and  not  only  for 
 some  particular  sect,  is  this  instruction  given. 
 
 "  Two  men  went  up  into  the  temple  to  pray."  The 
 temple  was  the  acknowledged  place  of  prayer  ;  to  it  the 
 devout  Jews  went  at  the  hour  of  prayer,  if  they  were  near ; 
 toward  it  they  looked  if  they  were  distant.  The  appoint- 
 ment was  a  help  to  prayer  in  the  preparatory  dispensation : 
 it  would  be  a  hindrance  if  it  were  maintained  still.  Not 
 in  that  one  place,  but  in  all  places,  the  true  worshippers 
 pray  to  the  Father. 
 
 "  The  one  a  Pharisee,  and  the  other  a  publican."  The 
 two  characters  are  represented  in  deep  relief :  there  is  no 
 confusion,  and  no  ambiguity.     Each  is   exhibited  in  his 
 
THE  PHARISEE  AND  THE  PUBLICAN.  5 1 1 
 
 own  colour,  and  the  two  are  sharply  distinguished  frora 
 each  other. 
 
 Nor  are  these  two  men  in  all  their  features  diverse  : 
 there  are  points  of  likeness  as  well  as  of  difference.  It  is 
 as  profitable  to  observe  wherein  they  are  like  as  wherein 
 they  are  unlike.  The  distinction  does  not  lie  in  that  the 
 one  was  good  while  the  other  was  bad  :  both  were  evil, 
 and  perhaps  it  would  be  safe  to  say,  both  alike  evil.  In 
 the  end,  the  one  was  a  sinner  forgiven,  and  the  other  a 
 sinner  unforgiven  ;  but  at  the  beginning  both  and  both 
 equally  were  sinners.  Their  sins  as  to  outward  form  were 
 diverse  ;  but  in  essential  character  the  sinfulness  was  in 
 both  the  same.  The  Pharisee  said  and  did  not ;  the 
 publican  neither  said  nor  did.  The  Pharisee  pretended 
 to  a  righteousness  which  he  did  not  possess;  the  publican 
 neither  professed  righteousness  nor  possessed  it.  While 
 one  maintained  the  form  of  godliness,  but  denied  its 
 power,  the  other  denied  both  the  form  and  the  power  of 
 godliness.  At  first  there  is  nothing  to  determine  our 
 choice  between  the  two  men  as  to  their  state  before  God : 
 the  one  was  a  hypocrite,  and  the  other  a  worldling.  Both 
 ahke  need  pardon,  and  to  both  alike  pardon  is  offered  in 
 the  Gospel.  ''The  blood  of  Christ  cleanseth  us  from  all 
 sin  ;"  but  no  effort  of  our  own  will  cleanse  us  from  any. 
 With  the  forgiveness  that  comes  through  Christ,  the 
 Pharisee  would  have  been  accepted  ;  but  wanting  it,  the 
 publican  would  have  been  cast  out.  The  hinge  on  which 
 the  essential  distinction  between  these  two  men  turned 
 was  not  the  different  quantities  of  sin  which  they  had 
 severally  committed,  but  the  opposite  grounds  on  which 
 they  severally  placed  their  trust.* 
 
 *  There  is  a  strong  resemblance  between  this  pair  and  the  two  sons  who 
 were  severally  asked  by  their  father  to  work  in  his  vineyard.  —Parable  X. 
 
5  I  2  THE  PHARISEE  AND  THE  PUBLICAN'. 
 
 Both  go  at  the  same  time  to  the  same  place  to  pray, 
 and  both  adopt  in  the  main  the  same  attitude  in  this 
 exercise  ;  they  stood  while  they  prayed.  This  was  the 
 ordinary  attitude  ;  but  kneeling  and  prostration  were  also 
 practised.  Each  of  these  postures  has  its  own  peculiar 
 appropriateness  ;  either  is  a  seemly  and  a  Scriptural 
 method  of  bringing  the  position  of  the  body  into  signifi- 
 cant harmony  with  the  desire  of  the  soul.  Among  those 
 attitudes  which  are  true  and  right,  we  are  at  liberty  to 
 adopt  that  which  is  in  our  circumstances  most  convenient 
 and  seemly.  Alas  !  there  has  always  been  a  tendency  in 
 man  to  lay  a  yoke  upon  himself  and  his  fellow.  Why 
 should  we  judge  one  another  where  our  Master  has  left 
 us  free  t  We  may  safely  lay  it  down  as  an  absolute 
 rule,  without  stipulating  for  even  a  single  exception,  that 
 the  best  position  for  praying  in  is  the  position  in  which 
 we  can  best  pray* 
 
 "  The  Pharisee  stood  and  prayed  thus  with  himself, 
 God,  I  thank  thee,"  &c.  Those  expositors  are  probably 
 right  who  think  that  ''  with  himself"  is  connected  with 
 "  stood,"  rather  than  "  prayed."  It  is  in  perfect  accord 
 with  the  narrative  to  intimate  that  he  stood  by  himself — 
 he  was  not  the  man  to  mingle  with  the  common  herd  of 
 worshippers  ;  but  it  does  not  seem  congruous  to  intimate 
 that  he  prayed  with  himself     His  prayer  is  addressed  to 
 
 *  This  question  has  begun  of  late  to  attract  a  considerable  measure  ot 
 attention  in  the  Presbyterian  Churches  of  this  countrj'.  It  needs  a  wise 
 treatment,  and,  alas  !  we  lack  wisdom.  For  convenience  and  order,  all  the 
 members  of  a  worshipping  assembly  ought  evidently  to  adopt  the  same 
 method  j  but  this  is  not  a  matter  for  arbitrary  ecclesiastical  enactment. 
 The  Pharisee  and  the  publican  both  stood  while  they  prayed ;  but  their 
 prayers  seem  to  have  been  short.  To  enact  that  the  congregation  must 
 stand  during  prayer,  and  then  to  keep  them  praying  for  twenty  minutes  or 
 half-an-hour,  which  is  sometimes  done,  seems  to  be  in  effect  turning  prayer 
 Into  penance. 
 
THE  PHARISEE  AND  THE  PUBLICAN.  5U 
 
 God  ;  he  has  no  doubt  much  to  do  with  himself  while  he 
 utters  it,  but  so  has  his  neighbour  the  publican.  As 
 much  as  the  proud  man  deals  with  himself  to  contemplate 
 his  own  goodness  during  prayer,  so  much  does  the 
 humble  man  deal  with  himself  to  contemplate  his  own 
 badness.  It  is  not  then  intimated  that  he  prayed  by 
 himself,  but  that  he  stood  by  himself  while  he  was  pray- 
 ing. He  counted  that  he  belonged  to  the  aristocracy  in 
 the  kingdom  of  God,  and  must  get  a  position  apart  from 
 the  multitude.* 
 
 In  yet  one  other  point  the  two  suppliants  are  like 
 each  other  ;  both  alike  look  into  their  own  hearts  and 
 lives  ;  and  both  permit  the  judgment  thus  formed  to  de- 
 termine the  form  and  matter  of  their  prayer.  Both 
 addressed  themselves  to  the  work  of  self-examination, 
 and  the  prayers  that  follow  are  the  fruits  of  their  re- 
 search. 
 
 At  this  point  the  two  men  part  company,  and  move  in 
 opposite  directions — the  one  found  in  himself  only  good, 
 the  other  found  in  himself  only  evil.  In  both,  and  in 
 both  alike,  there  was  only  evil  ;  but  the  publican  dis- 
 covered and  confessed  the  truth  regarding  himself,  while 
 the  Pharisee  either  blindly  failed  to  see  his  own  sin,  or 
 falsely  refused  to  confess  it. 
 
 The  error  of  the  Pharisee  does  not  lie  in  the  form  or 
 
 *  Sra^ciy  Trpos  iavrov,  standing  by  himself,  as  if  it  were  Kad'  iavroi^. 
 Thus  the  relation  is  preserved  with  the  position  of  the  publican,  jxaKpodev 
 €<TT(i}<i.  Either  stood  alone,  but  for  opposite  reasons  :  the  Pharisee  stood 
 forward  alone,  because  he  thought  other  worshippers  were  not  {\\.  to  be  in  his 
 company  ;  the  publican  stood  back  alone,  because  he  considered  himself 
 unworthy  to  mingle  with  other  worshippers.  It  may  be  worth  while  to 
 mention,  for  the  sake  of  the  English  reader,  the  order  of  the  words  in  the 
 original  is,  "The  Pharisee  standing  with  himself,  thus  prayed."  You  must 
 be  guided  entirely  by  the  sense  in  determining  whether  to  read  it.  Standing 
 with  himself,  thus  prayed  ;  or  standing,  with  himself  thus  prayed. 
 <»)  33 
 
514  THE  PHARISEE  AND  THE  PUBLICAN. 
 
 matter  of  his  prayer.  It  is  substantially  a  song  of  thanks- 
 giving. This  is  never  out  of  place  ;  praise  is  comely. 
 There  is  not  a  living  man  on  the  earth  who  has  not 
 ground  for  giving  praise  to  God  every  day,  and  all  day. 
 Nor  does  his  prayer  necessarily  transgress  the  strict  limits 
 of  truth  when  he  says,  "  God,  I  thank  thee  that  I  am  not 
 as  other  men."  If  he  had  been  employed  in  numbering 
 the  mercies  of  God — if  he  had  meditated  on  his  privileges, 
 till  he  was  lost  in  wonder,  that  so  many  benefits  had  been 
 conferred  on  one  so  worthless,  he  might  with  truth  have 
 burst  into  the  exclamation,  "  I  am  not  as  other  men." 
 As  a  true  penitent,  when  employed  in  considering  his 
 own  sin,  truly  describes  himself  as  the  chief  of  sinners;  so 
 a  thankful  man,  lost  in  the  multitude  of  God's  mercies, 
 thinks  in  all  simplicity  that  none  in  all  the  world  have  been 
 so  highly  favoured  as  himself.  From  his  own  view-point 
 a  true  worshipper  truly  counts  both  his  sins  and  his 
 mercies  greater  than  those  of  other  men.  When  he  con- 
 fesses his  sins  he  counts  and  calls  them  deeper  than  those 
 of  others  ;  when  he  recounts  the  benefits  he  has  received 
 from  God,  he  says  that  they  are  greater  than  others  have 
 enjoyed.  Glad  praise  and  weeping  confession  correspond 
 to  each  other  in  a  true  heart,  as  correspond  the  height  of 
 the  sky  and  the  depth  of  its  shadow  in  still  waters. 
 When  the  clouds  above  you  become  high,  the  shadow  of 
 them  beneath  you  becomes  correspondingly  deep.  The 
 same  man  who  said,  "  I  am  chief  of  sinners,"  said  also, 
 "  Thanks  be  to  God  for  his  unspeakable  gift." 
 
 It  is  not,  then,  for  what  he  has  said  that  the  Pharisee  is 
 condemned,  even  when  he  announces  that  he  is  not  as 
 other  men.  If  conscious  of  unworthiness,  and  amazed  at 
 God's  long-suffering,  he  had  exclaimed,  I  am  not  like 
 other  men — I  have  been  spared  and  instructed,  and  in- 
 
THE  PHARISEE  AND  THE  PUBLICAN.  5  ^  5 
 
 vited  and  taught  and  led  with  a  paternal  tenderness  that 
 others  do  not  enjoy,  his  thanksgiving  would  have  been 
 sweet  incense  as  it  rose  to  the  throne  of  the  Most  High. 
 He  presumes  to  give  thanks  not  for  what  he  has  received, 
 but  for  what  he  is  and  does.  Here  lies  his  condemna- 
 tion. It  is  not  in  the  thanks  but  in  the  reason  for  the 
 thanks  that  the  old  serpent  lurks;  he  is  delighted  not 
 with  what  God  has  graciously  bestowed  on  him,  but  with 
 what  he  has  meritoriously  given  to  God. 
 
 The  sense  in  the  original  is  more  comprehensive  than 
 that  which  the  English  conveys ;  other  men  here  mean 
 all  others.  On  one  side  he  places  himself,  and  on  the 
 other  side  the  rest  of  human  kind :  the  result  of  the  com- 
 parison in  his  judgment  is  that  he  is  better  than  all. 
 
 Three  of  the  more  articulate  and  manifest  forms  of 
 wickedness  he  enumerates,  in  order  by  the  contrast  to  set 
 forth  his  own  purity.  "  Extortioners"  are  officials  having 
 a  right  to  something,  who  unjustly  force  from  an  oppressed 
 people  more  than  is  due;  the  "unjust"  are  those  who 
 deal  unfairly  in  the  ordinary  intercourse  of  life  ;  and 
 adulterers  are,  in  fact,  and  were  then  accounted  the  deep- 
 est and  most  daring  transgressors  of  the  laws  both  human 
 and  divine.  Probably  the  Pharisee  was  in  point  of  fact 
 free  in  his  conduct  from  all  these  vices  ;  there  is  nothing 
 in  the  parable  that  forbids  us  in  these  matters  to  take 
 him  at  his  word. 
 
 Instead  of  extending  the  list  of  vices  of  which  he  felt 
 himself  free,  he  cuts  the  matter  short  by  a  general  com- 
 parison between  himself  and  the  publican.  The  contempt 
 in  which  the  tax-farmers  were  held  by  the  stricter  Jews 
 shines  out  in  every  page  of  the  Gospel,  and  is  well  under- 
 stood by  the  readers  of  the  Scriptures.  By  way  of  purg- 
 ing himself  from  sin  in  the  lump,  he  says  shortly,  "  I  am 
 
5i6  THE  PHARISEE  AND   THE  PUBLICAN. 
 
 not  as  this  publican."  In  order  to  condemn  the  Pharisee 
 on  this  point,  it  is  not  necessary  to  suppose  that  he  made 
 a  wrong  estimate  of  his  neighbour.  Granted  that  this 
 publican  had  up  to  this  hour  been  stained  with  all  these 
 three  vices,  and  that  the  Pharisee,  knowing  his  character, 
 formed  a  correct  judgment  regarding  it  ;  still  his  condem- 
 nation remains  the  same;  it  is  not  the  part  of  one  sinner 
 to  judge  and  condemn  another. 
 
 "  I  fast  twice  in  the  week,  I  give  tithes  of  all  that  I  pos- 
 sess,"— all  that  I  acquire;  it  is  not  capital  but  income. 
 It  is  a  picture  of  mere  self-righteousness.  His  judgment 
 was  wrong  from  the  root;  he  knew  neither  his  own 
 heart  nor  God's  law.  Pharisee  as  he  was,  he  might  have 
 learned  from  the  prophet  Isaiah  the  true  state  of  the 
 case,  "  We  are  all  as  an  unclean  thing ;  and  all  our  right- 
 eousnesses are  as  filthy  rags."* 
 
 "  The  publican  standing  afar  off,"  &c.  The  difference 
 does  not  lie  in  that  this  was  a  good  man  while  the  other 
 was  bad.  This  is  a  sinner  too  ;  but  he  has  come  to  know 
 it,  and  therein  lies  the  distinction  between  him  and  the 
 Pharisee.  His  judgment  of  himself  accords  with  his 
 actual  state  and  character ;  he  knows  and  owns  the 
 truth  regarding  his  own  sinfulness.  There  is  no  merit  in 
 this  discovery,  and  in  itself  it  cannot  save.  If  two  men 
 should  both  take  poison,  and  one  of  them  should  become 
 aware  of  the  fact  ere  the  poison  had  time  to  operate  ;  the 
 one  who  knows  the  truth  is  more  miserable  than  the  one 
 who  is  ignorant,  but  not  more  safe.  If  there  be  a  physi' 
 cian  within  reach  who  can  cure,  the   knowledge  of  his 
 
 *  lie  obtained  this  self-confidence  by  comparing  himself  not  with  the  law 
 of  God,  but  with  others  who  seemed  worse  than  himself.  When  a  man 
 compares  himself  with  robbers  and  adulterers,  for  whom  the  sword  and  the 
 prison  are  prepared,  he  may  easily  seem  to  himself  like  an  angel. — Anidt. 
 
THE  PHARISEE  AND  rilE  PUBLICAN.  517 
 
 danger  will  send  one  man  to  the  source  of  help,  while  the 
 ignorance  of  the  other  will  keep  him  lingering  where  he 
 is,  till  it  is  too  late  to  flee.  But  even  in  that  case  it  was 
 not  the  man's  knowledge  of  his  danger  that  saved  him. 
 Another  saved  him  ;  his  knowledge  of  his  own  need  only- 
 led  him  to  a  deliverer. 
 
 It  is  so  here.  There  is  no  merit  and  no  salvation  in 
 the  publican's  conviction  and  confession ;  although  he 
 confesses  his  sin,  he  is  still  a  sinner.  His  own  tears  are 
 not  the  fountain  in  which  his  guilt  can  be  washed  away. 
 If  there  were  no  Saviour,  his  penitence  would  do  him  no 
 good ;  if  Christ  had  not  come  to  save  the  lost,  the  lost, 
 though  alarmed,  would  not  have  been  saved. 
 
 If  we  take  care  to  notice  that  there  was  neither  merit 
 nor  safety  in  the  man's  confession,  we  may  profitably 
 listen  to  the  confession,  and  learn  what  it  was. 
 
 •*  He  stood  afar  aff."  Here  we  begin  to  observe 
 external  marks  of  an  inward  penitence ;  he  judged  and 
 condemned  himself.  He  had  the  same  right  with  other 
 worshippers  to  come  near;  but  a  consciousness  of  his  un- 
 cleanness  before  God  compelled  him  to  take  the  lowest 
 place  even  among  men.  Such  was  the  tenderness  of  his 
 spirit,  that  he  thought  everybody  better  than  himself. 
 Humility  is  the  exact  opposite  of  pride;  as  the  one  man 
 counted  himself  better  than  all,  the  other  counted  himself 
 worse  than  all.  When  he  obtained  a  sight  of  his  own 
 vileness  before  God,  his  feeling  was  that  even  his  brother 
 would  be  polluted  by  his  presence.  As  love  of  God, 
 when  we  have  tasted  his  grace,  carries  love  to  men  after 
 it,  like  a  shadow;  so  shame  before  God,  because  of  sin  in 
 his  sight,  diffuses  humility  and  modesty  through  the 
 spirit  and  conduct  in  the  ordinary  intercourse  of  life. 
 
 He  was  unwilling  to  lift  up  his  eyes  to  heaven.     He 
 
5i8  THE  PHARISEE  AND  THE  PUBLICAN. 
 
 looked  down  to  the  earth ;  but  his  heart  was  rising  up  to 
 heaven  the  while.  His  eyes  could  not  bear  at  that 
 moment  to  look,  as  it  were,  on  the  light  of  the  great  white 
 throne ;  but  his  soul  ascended,  and  pressed  with  violence 
 on  the  gate  of  the  kingdom.  Against  that  strait  gate  his 
 spirit  is  now  striving ;  the  King  of  glory  from  within  feels 
 the  pressure  well  pleased,  and  opens  to  let  the  agonizer  in. 
 "  Smote  upon  his  breast;"  it  is  like  other  signs  of  grace, 
 precious  if  it  is  true,  worthless  when  it  is  false.  A  wor- 
 shipper will  not  be  heard  for  his  much  beating,  any  more 
 than  for  his  much  speaking:  but  when  it  is  the  true  ex- 
 ternal symptom  of  a  broken  heart  within,  the  knocking 
 on  his  own  breast  is  reckoned  a  knocking  at  the  gate  of 
 heaven.  To  him  that  knocketh  at  this  lower  gate,  the 
 liighest  will  be  opened. 
 
 His  prayer  was  short  and  suitable;  "God  be  merciful  to 
 me,  the  sinner  "  (rw  aiJ-apTnoKia).  The  contrast  continues 
 to  the  last ;  as  the  Pharisee  had  compared  himself  with 
 all  mankind,  and  concluded  that  he  alone  was  good ;  so 
 the  Publican  in  the  depth  of  his  shame  seems  to  count 
 himself  the  only  sinner. 
 
 The  steps  are  few  and  simple  by  which  a  sinner  finds 
 or  misses  the  way  into  eternal  life.  Not  perceiving  his 
 own  sin,  a  Pharisee  comes  to  God,  as  one  who  deserves 
 favour;  he  seeks  to  enter  heaven  where  the  wall  of  right- 
 eousness frowns  in  his  face,  and  is  cast  away.  The  pub- 
 lican, conscious  of  his  unworthiness,  counting  himself 
 altogether  evil,  flees  from  his  own  sin  to  God's  provided 
 mercy;  he  tries  where  the  door  is  open,  and  passes  in  a 
 moment  through.  I  tell  you,  "  This  man  went  down  to 
 his  house  justified,"  &c. ;  he,  but  not  the  other.*     The 
 
 *  He  brought  with  him,  what  the  Pharisee  left  at  home,  the  book  of 
 lii  own  guilt,  and  exhibited  all  that  stood  against  him  there. — Arndt. 
 
THE  PHARISEE  AND  THE  PUBLICAN.  5  '  5 
 
 Pharisee  forgave  himself;  who  is  this  that  forgiveth  sin? 
 and  who  is  this  whose  sins  he  forgives  ?     He  asked  no  for- 
 giveness from  God,  and  got  none.     He  departed  from  the 
 temple  as  full  and  satisfied,  or  rather  as  empty  and  poor, 
 as  he  entered  it.     For  aught  that  we  learn  to  the  con- 
 trary, he  went  on,  tithing  his  mint,  anise,  and  cummin, — 
 went  on  blindfold  till  he  stumbled  on  the  judgment-seat. 
 The  penitent  Publican  went  down  to  his  house  a  justi- 
 fied man ;  he  sat  in  the  circle  of  his  family,  retired  to  rest 
 at  night,  rose  in  the  morning  to  his  labour,  at  peace  wuth 
 God.     On  the  morrow  he  looked  on  the  sun-light  without 
 being  in  terror  of  the  mighty  One  whose  word  had  made 
 it  shine;  he  walked   abroad    on  the  fields,  in  conscious, 
 loving  companionship  with  Him  who  spread  them  out 
 and  covered  them  with  green;  he  looked  from  the  moun- 
 tain-side on   the  great  sea  when  "it  wrought  and  was 
 tempestuous,"  the  confiding  child   of  Him  who  holds  its 
 waters  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand ;  and  when  again  he  laid 
 his  head  upon  the  pillow  for  rest  to  his  wearied  body,  he 
 laid  his  soul  on  the  love  of  his  Saviour,  as  an  infant  leans 
 on  a  mother's  breast.      When   the  hand  that  led  him 
 through   the  wilderness   leads  him  at  length  down  the 
 dark  sides  of  the  swelling  Jordan,  he  looks  up  with  languid 
 eye,  but  bright,  burning  spirit,  and  whispers  to  his  guide, 
 "  I  will  not  fear,  for  Thou  art  with  me;"  when  the  judg- 
 ment is  set  and  the  books  are  opened,  he  stands  before 
 the  Judge  in  white  clothing,  accepted  in  the  Beloved; 
 the  voice  of  the   Eternal,  tenderly  human,  yet  clothed 
 with  divine  authority,  utters  the  welcome, — "Come,  thou 
 blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom." 
 
XXX. 
 
 THE  SERVANTS  AND  THE  POUNDS. 
 
 '  And  ail  they  heard  these  things,  he  added  and  spake  a  parable,  because  he  was  nigh  to 
 Jerusalem,  and  because  they  thought  that  the  kingdom  of  God  should  immediately 
 appear.  He  said  therefore,  A  certain  nobleman  went  into  a  far  country  to  receive  for 
 himself  a  kingdom,  and  to  return.  And  he  called  his  ten  servants,  and  delivered  them 
 ten  pounds,  and  said  unto  them,  Occupy  till  I  come.  But  his  citizens  hated  him,  and 
 sent  a  message  after  him,  saying,  We  will  not  have  this  man  to  reign  over  us.  And  it 
 came  to  pass,  that  when  he  was  returned,  having  received  the  kingdom,  then  he  com- 
 manded these  servants  to  be  called  unto  him,  to  whom  he  had  given  the  money,  that 
 he  might  know  how  much  every  man  had  gained  by  trading.  Then  came  the  first, 
 saying.  Lord,  thy  pound  hath  gained  ten  pounds.  And  he  said  unto  him.  Well,  thou 
 good  servant :  because  thou  hast  been  faithful  in  a  very  little,  have  thou  authority  over 
 ten  cities.  And  the  second  came,  saying.  Lord,  thy  pound  hath  gained  five  pounds. 
 And  he  said  likewise  to  him.  Be  thou  also  over  five  cities.  And  another  came,  saying, 
 Lord,  behold,  here  is  thy  pound,  which  I  have  kept  laid  up  in  a  napkin  :  for  I  feared 
 thee,  because  thou  art  an  austere  man  :  thou  takest  up  that  thou  layedst  not  down,  and 
 reapest  that  thou  didst  not  sow.  And  he  saith  unto  him.  Out  of  thine  own  mouth  will 
 I  judge  thee,  thou  wicked  servant.  Thou  knewest  that  I  was  an  austere  man,  taking 
 up  that  I  laid  not  down,  and  reaping  that  I  did  not  sow  :  wherefore  then  gavest  not 
 thou  my  money  into  the  bank,  that  at  my  coming  I  might  have  required  mine  own 
 with  usciry  ?  And  he  said  unto  them  that  stood  by.  Take  from  him  the  pound,  and 
 give  it  to  him  that  hath  ten  pounds.  (And  they  said  unto  him.  Lord,  he  hath  ten 
 pounds.)  For  I  say  unto  you.  That  unto  every  one  which  hath  shall  be  given  :  and 
 from  him  that  hath  not,  even  that  he  hath  shall  be  taken  away  from  him.  But  those 
 mine  enemies,  which  would  not  that  I  should  reign  over  them,  bring  hither,  and  slay 
 them  before  me." — Luke  xix.  11-27. 
 
 .|T    is    necessary  at  the    outset   to    indicate   the 
 
 relation  which   subsists  between   this   parable 
 
 and  that  of  the  talents,  (Matt.  xxv).    Although 
 
 in   many  of  their  features  they  are  the  same, 
 
 in  others  there  is  a  decisive  difference.     Both  show  that 
 
 the  Lord  bestows  privileges  on  his  servants,  and  demands 
 
 faithfulness  in   return  ;  and  both  .show  that  the  diligent 
 
THE  SERVANTS  AND  THE  FOUNDS.  5 21 
 
 are  rewarded  and  the  unprofitable  condemned.  But  the 
 one  supposes  a  case,  in  which  all  the  servants  receive 
 equal  privileges,  and  shows  that  even  those  of  them  who 
 are  faithful,  may  be  unequal  as  to  the  amount  of  their 
 success;  the  other  supposes  a  case  in  which  unequal 
 privileges  are  bestowed  upon  the  servants,  and  shows  that 
 when  unequal  gifts  are  employed  with  equal  diligence, 
 the  approval  is  equal  in  the  day  of  account.  Both  alike 
 exhibit  the  grand  cardinal  distinction  between  the  faith- 
 ful and  the  faithless;  but  in  pointing  out  also  the  diver- 
 sities that  obtain  among  true  disciples,  they  view  the  sub- 
 ject from  opposite  sides,  each  presenting  that  aspect  of  it 
 which  the  other  omits.  The  parable  of  the  talents  teaches 
 that  Christians  differ  from  each  other  in  the  amount  of 
 gifts  which  they  receive ;  and  the  parable  of  the  pounds 
 teaches  that  they  differ  from  each  other  in  the  diligence 
 which  they  display.* 
 
 The  incident  connected  with  Zaccheus,  although  it 
 occurred  on  the  spot  and  at  the  moment,  did  not,  I  think, 
 supply  the  occasion  of  this  parable,  and  does  not  contain 
 the  key  of  its  meaning.  The  Lord's  interview  with  that 
 interesting  and  earnest  tax-farmer  in  the  neighbourhood 
 of  Jericho  rather  constituted  an  episodical  interruption  to 
 the  continuity  of  his  thought  and  the  narrative  of  his 
 journey.  He  had  passed  through  Jericho  on  his  way  to 
 Jerusalem  for  the  last  time.  An  expectation,  intense  in 
 character  though  vague  in  outline,  was  spreading  through 
 the  neighbourhood,  that  great  events  would  emerge  on 
 
 *  The  man  who  cannot  perceive,  or  will  not  own  that  these  are  two  dis- 
 tinct cases,  charged  with  different,  though  cognate  lessons,  is  not  fit  to  be 
 an  expositor  of  any  Avriting,  either  sacred  or  profane.  Enough  for  the 
 critics  who  persist  in  the  theory,  that  these  two  parables  are  different,  and 
 consequently  incorrect,  reports  of  one  discourse  spoken  only  once  by  the 
 Lord  ;  the  conceit  is  not  worthy  of  more  minute  refutation. 
 
522  THE  SERVANTS  AND  THE  POUNDS. 
 
 his  arrival  at  the  capital.  It  was  the  crowd  already  on 
 this  account  assembled  that  gave  prominence  to  the  case 
 of  Zaccheus.  It  is  not  from  that  episode  that  the  parable 
 springs  ;  rather,  when  the  interruption  which  it  caused 
 was  over,  the  current  of  thought,  displaced  for  a  moment, 
 returns  to  its  former  channel,  and  flows  as  it  had  flowed 
 before.  The  crowd  had  assembled  before  the  conversa- 
 tion with  Zaccheus  took  place,  and  the  cause  of  the  ex- 
 citement was  the  expectation  that  "  the  kingdom  of  God 
 should  immediately  appear."  It  was  on  account  of  this 
 expectation  that  the  parable  was  spoken.  The  purpose 
 of  the  Lord  was  to  correct  the  popular  impression  in  as 
 far  as  it  was  erroneous,  and  to  turn  it  to  account  in  as  far 
 as  it  contained  a  basis  of  truth.  They  expected  that 
 Jesus  was  about  to  proclaim  himself  king,  and  occupy 
 David's  throne  at  Jerusalem  :  he  teaches  them  by  the 
 parable  that  his  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world — that  he, 
 the  king,  will  depart  from  their  sight  for  a  while,  and  that 
 it  behoves  his  subjects  to  occupy  their  talents  and  oppor- 
 tunities till  he  return. 
 
 "  A  certain  nobleman  went  into  a  far  country  to  re- 
 ceive for  himself  a  kingdom,  and  to  return."  His 
 errand  when  he  went  abroad  was  not  to  seek  a  king- 
 dom in  another  quarter  of  the  world,  but  to  obtain 
 from  a  foreign  power  nomination  to  the  sovereignty  ot 
 his  native  land.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  not  probable 
 that,  after  having  become  king  of  another  country,  he 
 would  return  to  reside  where  he  was  only  a  subject ;  but 
 a  much  more  decisive  indication  is  given  by  the  message 
 which  his  fellow-citizens  sent  after  him,  "  We  will  not 
 have  this  man  to  reign  over  us."  They  do  not  interfere 
 with  his  prospects  in  a  foreign  country  ;  it  is  his  sove- 
 reignty over  themselves  that  they  dread  and  deprecate 
 
rilE  SERVANTS  AND  THE  POUNDS,  523 
 
 This  outspoken  repudiation  of  his  government  by  his 
 fellow-citizens  makes  it  both  certain  and  manifest  that, 
 though  he  sought  investiture  abroad,  the  kingdom  which 
 he  expected  to  receive  was  in  his  own  native  land,  and 
 over  his  former  fellow-citizens. 
 
 In  those  days  both  the  Jews  and  other  nations  subject 
 to  the  supremacy  of  Rome  were  familiar  with  the  trans- 
 action which  forms  the  basis  of  this  parable.  After  the 
 nobleman's  departure,  his  countrymen,  aware  of  his 
 design,  endeavoured  to  thwart  it.  With  this  view  they 
 sent  a  message,  or  rather  an  embassy  {irpea^eiav)  after 
 him  ;  they  commissioned  some  of  their  own  number  to 
 appear  along  with  him  before  the  power  paramount,  and 
 oppose  his  claim.  It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  the 
 protest  of  these  citizens  was  addressed  to  the  nobleman 
 who  sought  to  become  their  king;  the  deputies  are  in- 
 structed to  address  themselves  not  to  him,  but  to  the 
 foreign  power  from  whom  he  intends  to  seek  investiture. 
 They  will  appear  at  court  along  with  him  when  his  peti- 
 tion is  presented,  and  plead  that  it  may  be  rejected. 
 Such  debates  were  in  point  of  fact  held  before  the  repub- 
 lican and  imperial  tribunals  of  Rome.* 
 
 Before  setting  out  on  his  journey  "  he  called  his  ten  ser- 
 vants," &c.  These  men  were  his  servants  or  slaves.  In 
 different  countries,  and  at  different  times,  the  bond  of  servi- 
 tude has  been  indefinitely  varied  both  in  stringency  and 
 duration.  In  all  probability  these  servants  were  the  bonds- 
 men of  the  nobleman,  although  law  and  practice  might 
 not  accord  to  the  owner  a  power  so  absolute  as  that  with 
 
 *  Herod  and  his  son  Archelaus  had  both  in  succession  repaired  personally 
 to  Rome  to  obtain  their  authority.  Precisely  similar  scenes  are  enacted 
 between  the  British  government  and  the  protected  potentates  of  India ;  the 
 agents  for  rival  princes  contend  for  regal  rights  in  London,  where  the  govern- 
 ment of  India  is  in  tlie  last  resort  controlled. 
 
524  THE  SERVANTS  AND  THE  POUNDS. 
 
 which  we  are  too  famihar  in  modern  slavery.  But  the 
 more  nearly  that  the  master's  rights  approached  the  point 
 of  absolute  ownership  of  property,  the  more  suitable  be- 
 comes the  picture  to  represent  the  relation  that  subsists 
 between  the  redeeming  Lord  and  his  ransomed  people.* 
 This  nobleman,  desiring  that  no  part  of  his  property 
 or  capital  should  lie  unproductive  during  his  absence, 
 made  the  best  arrangement,  of  which  the  circumstances 
 admitted,  before  he  left  the  country.  His  method  was 
 the  same  as  that  which  appears  in  the  cognate  parable, 
 the  entrusted  talents,  with  the  exception  that  in  this  case 
 the  master  made  all  his  servants  equal.  A  mina,  in  value 
 equal  to  about  £2,  3s.  6d.,  was  entrusted  to  each  man, 
 with  the  intimation  that,  according  to  his  diligence  and 
 
 *  It  is  altogether  a  mistake  to  conclude  from  the  allusions  made  here  and 
 elsewhere  in  the  Scriptures  to  the  actually  existing  servitude  of  the  times 
 and  places,  that  any  modem  system  of  slavery  may  claim  the  sanction  of 
 divine  approval.  It  was  the  custom  of  Jesus  to  seize  existing  facts  on  the 
 right  and  on  the  left  as  they  lay  around,  and  employ  them  as  vehicles  for 
 conveying  his  meaning.  Sometimes  he  so  employed  a  good  thing,  and 
 sometimes  a  bad  thing,  but  by  the  mere  fact  of  using  a  human  act  or  habit 
 as  a  metaphor,  he  pronounced  no  judgment  regarding  its  moral  character. 
 It  was  enough  for  him  that  the  thing  Avas  well  known,  and  that  it  served  as 
 a  letter  with  which  he  might  indicate  his  mind.  Printers  make  their  types 
 of  any  material  that  may  be  most  suitable  for  the  purpose,  and  most  readily 
 obtained ;  and  with  these  types  they  multiply  the  Scriptures.  They  use  a 
 cheap  mixture  of  lead  and  tin  ;  and  this  base  alloy  serves  their  purpose 
 better  than  more  precious  metals.  Their  only  question  in  determining  the 
 choice  of  material  is,  Will  it  print  our  meaning  clearly  ?  Thus  the  Lord 
 Jesus  dealt  with  the  habits  which  he  found  in  society,  and  the  events  that 
 were  passing  at  the  time.  He  selected  and  employed  them  with  a  regard 
 not  to  their  own  intrinsic  moral  worth  but  to  their  fitness  for  expressing 
 the  idea  which  he  meant  to  convey.  No  matter  whether  it  be  lead  or  gold; 
 what  he  wanted  was  material  suitable  for  types.  A  steward  has  no  Scrip- 
 tural warrant  for  cheating  his  master,  because  the  trick  of  an  astute  agent 
 is  employed  to  print  one  of  the  parables  ;  neither  have  men-stealers,  men- 
 sellers,  and  men-buyers  any  authority  from  the  Bible  to  treat  their  fellow- 
 men  like  cattle,  because  the  relation  of  master  and  slave  was  employed  by 
 the  Lord  to  express  a  conception  in  the  course  of  his  teaching. 
 
THE  SERVAXTS  AXD  THE  POUNDS.  ^25 
 
 faithfulness  In  the  management  of  this  capital,  would  be 
 his  reward  when  the  owner  should  return.  * 
 
 Such  is  the  arrangement  which  this  nobleman  made 
 with  those  who  are  described  as  "  his  own  servants,"  on 
 the  eve  of  his  departure  ;  but  with  his  neighbours,  who 
 were  free  and  independent,  he  had  either  neglected  to 
 seek,  or  failed  to  obtain,  an  understanding.  Aware  of  his 
 object,  they  sent  after  him  a  deputation  of  their  own  num- 
 ber, instructed  to  appear  along  with  him  at  the  imperial 
 court,  and  oppose  his  request.  They  were  not  willing 
 to  become  his  subjects,  and  therefore  endeavoured  to  pre- 
 vent him  from  obtaining  a  regal  title  and  despotic  power. 
 
 Their  opposition,  however,  had  no  other  effect  than  to 
 betray  their  enmity,  and  so  expose  them  to  the  King's  dis- 
 pleasure. His  first  act  after  he  returned  with  supreme 
 authority  was  to  call  his  servants  into  his  presence,  and 
 reward  them  according  to  their  merits  ;  and  his  second, 
 to  issue  an  order  for  the  punishment  of  those  who  had 
 opposed  his  elevation.  The  remaining  portion  of  the 
 scene  is  so  similar  to  the  corresponding  parts  of  the  cog- 
 nate parable  already  expounded,  that  it  is  unnecessary  to 
 trace  the  narrative  further ;  rather  let  us  hasten  now  to 
 ascertain  and  enforce  the  spiritual  lesson  from  the  whole. 
 
 While  the  Master  was  setting  his  face  towards  Jeru- 
 salem for  the  last  time,  a  dim  presentiment  of  coming 
 change  occupied  his  disciples.  In  their  minds,  the  expec- 
 tation of  his  kingdom  had  taken  a  wrong  direction,  and 
 tended  to  put  them  off  their  guard.  To  correct  their 
 error,  and  bind  them  to  patient  watchfulness,  he  spoke 
 this  parable.  Because  they  imagined  he  was  about  to 
 assume  kingly  power,  and  give  them  places  of  temporal 
 
 *  For  fuller  notice  of  the  methods  adopted,  see  the  exposition  of  the  cor- 
 responding parable  No.  XIV. 
 
526  THE  SERVANTS  AND   THE  POUNDS. 
 
 dignity  on  his  right  hand  and  on  his  left,  he  taught 
 them  by  this  simiHtude,  that  he  must  go  away,  and  that 
 they  must  remain  behind,  working  and  watching. 
 
 The  nobleman  represents  the  Lord  himself.  While  he 
 prosecuted  his  ministry  on  earth,  he  had  not  fully  attained 
 possession  of  the  kingdom.  The  departure  of  the  noble- 
 man represents  the  exodus  which  the  Lord  soon  after- 
 wards accomplished  at  Jerusalem,  comprising  his  death, 
 resurrection,  and  ascension.  In  the  parable,  the  power 
 paramount  who  could  withhold  or  bestow  a  kingdom  is 
 not  named  :  it  is  intimated  only  that  this  transaction 
 took  place  out  of  sight  in  a  far  country.  When  the  Son 
 of  God  ascended  after  his  mediatorial  work  on  earth  was 
 complete,  all  power  was  given  to  him  in  heaven  and  on 
 earth.  Beyond  his  disciples'  sight  he  received  the  king- 
 dom from  the  Father.  Now  he  has  right  to  rule  supreme 
 over  that  world,  on  which  before  he  had  not  where  to  lay 
 his  head.  He  will  come  to  this  world  again  as  its  King, 
 with  power  and  great  glory. 
 
 Two  classes  of  persons  are  mentioned  as  having  re- 
 mained in  the  country  while  the  prince  was  absent : — 
 these  are  his  servants  and  his  adversaries.  In  the  material 
 scene,  there  might  be  many  who  neither  served  nor  op- 
 posed him  ;  but  these  are  not  mentioned  in  the  parable, 
 because  there  are  none  to  correspond  with  them  on  the 
 spiritual  side.  There  only  two  classes  exist, — those  who 
 serve  Christ  as  the  Lord  that  bought  them,  and  those 
 who,  being  at  enmity  with  God,  refuse  to  obey  the  Gospel 
 of  his  Son. 
 
 The  parable  has  not  much  to  do  with  them  that  are 
 without.  At  the  beginning,  it  shortly  indicates  their  re- 
 bellion, and  at  the  close  as  shortly  predicts  their  doom  ; 
 but  the  circumstances,  the  character,  the  life,  and   the 
 
THE  SERVANTS  AND  THE  POUNDS.  52? 
 
 reward  of  the  Lord's  disciples  are  more  expressly  and 
 more  fully  declared. 
 
 The  master  who  owns  them  places  some  of  his  treasures 
 at  their  disposal,  and  with  the  general  injunction,  "Occupy," 
 goes  out  of  their  sight.  The  servants  are  those  who,  at 
 least  in  profession,  are  the  disciples  of  Christ,  and  the 
 pounds  are  the  faculties  which  they  possess,  and  the  op- 
 portunities which  they  enjoy.  The  place  and  age  in  which 
 our  lot  has  been  cast,  our  early  education,  our  bodily  mem- 
 bers and  mental  powers,  our  station  in  society  and  the  circle 
 of  our  homes,  our  money  and  our  health,  and,  in  addition, 
 the  graces  of  the  Spirit,  in  whatever  measure  they  may 
 have  been  conferred, — all  that  we  are  and  have  belongs  to 
 God.     He  is  the  owner,  and  we  are  tenants  at  will. 
 
 While  a  general  law  has  been  laid  down  to  determine, 
 in  the  main,  the  direction  of  our  course,  the  details  are 
 left  to  our  own  discretion.  One  man  may  invest  his 
 master's  capital  in  land,  and  another  in  merchandise,  and 
 both  may  be  equally  faithful,  equally  successful  :  so  in 
 various  lines  of  effort,  different  disciples  may,  in  diverse 
 manners,  but  with  equal  faithfulness,  serve  the  Lord. 
 There  is  freedom  in  the  choice  of  departments,  provided 
 always  there  be  loyalty  to  the  King. 
 
 In  the  relation  between  Christ  and  Christians,  opposites 
 meet  without  hostile  collision.  His  ownership  is  absolute, 
 and  yet  there  is  freedom  in  full.  His  lordship  does  not 
 limit  their  liberty ;  their  liberty  does  not  infringe  his 
 rights.  What  a  glorious  liberty  this  earth-ball  enjoys  ! 
 How  it  careers  along  through  space,  threading  its  way 
 through  thronging  worlds,  and  giving  each  a  safe  wide 
 berth  in  the  ocean  of  the  infinite !  Yet  the  sun  holds 
 the  earth  all  the  while  in  absolute  and  entire  control. 
 Like  that  glory  in  the  visible  heavens  is  the  glory  of  the 
 
528  THE  SERVANTS  AND  THE  POUNDS 
 
 Everlasting  Covenant.  The  largest  liberty  conceded  to  the 
 sons  of  God  consists  with  sovereignty  complete  and  con- 
 stant exercised  over  them  by  the  Redeemer,  who  bought 
 them  with  his  blood.  He  is  their  owner,  and  yet  they  are 
 free.  The  union  of  opposites  is  possible  with  God:  "He 
 is  wonderful  in  counsel,  and  excellent  in  working." 
 
 The  sons  serve;  and  yet  they  are  sons.  Ransomed 
 men  are  instruments  of  a  higher  order,  than  other  agencies 
 through  which  the  reign  of  Providence  is  administered. 
 Although  the  Lord  requires  of  his  regenerated  people  as 
 complete  submission  to  his  law,  as  he  demands  and 
 obtains  from  the  elements  of  nature  and  the  brutes  that 
 perish,  he  does  not  require  from  them  an  equally  uniform 
 and  mechanical  routine.  The  streams  that  course  over 
 continents,  and  the  tides  that  swell  upon  their  shores, 
 must  render  the  same  service  every  day;  but  these  sons 
 of  God  are  not  held  to  labour  by  a  bridle  so  short  and 
 rigid.  They  are  endowed  with  reason  and  will ;  they  are 
 set  at  liberty,  and  permitted  to  expatiate  over  a  wider 
 field.  Their  master  goes  out  of  sight,  and  trusts  to  a 
 renewed,  loving  heart  for  the  diligent  outlay  and  faithful 
 return  of  all  the  talents.  The  Gospel  requires  and  gene- 
 rates not  a  legal,  but  an  evangelical  obedience. 
 
 When  the  king  returns,  or  the  servants  are  summoned 
 one  by  one  through  death  to  meet  their  master,  they  are 
 tried  as  to  faithfulness  and  diligence  in  laying  out  their 
 talents.  Although  ten  were  mentioned  at  the  beginning, 
 it  is  not  necessary  to  report  on  more  than  three  at  the 
 close.  These  are  sufficient  to  show  that  some  were  dili- 
 gent, and  some  slothful ;  and  that  among  the  diligent  there 
 were  different  measures  of  effort,  success,  and  reward. 
 
 What  hast  thou  that  thou  didst  not  receive.-*  Occupy; 
 occupy  all,  and  occupy  it  all  the  time  till  the  Giver  come 
 
THE  SERVANTS  AND  THE  POUNDS.  529 
 
 to  claim  his  own.  All  that  God  gives  us  is  given  for  use. 
 There  is  much  evil,  moral  and  material,  in  the  world.  He 
 who  made  it  and  saw  it  fall  by' sin,  has  its  restoration  and 
 renewal  much  at  heart.  When  he  has  gotten  some  of 
 the  fallen  restored  to  favour  and  renewed  in  spirit,  he 
 endows  them  with  various  riches  from  his  own  treasury, 
 that  the  capital  wisely  invested  may  yield  a  large  return 
 at  his  coming.  Let  each  according  to  his  means  and 
 opportunity  lay  himself  and  his  talents  out  to  leave  the 
 world  better  than  he  found  it ; — to  diminish  the  amount 
 of  sin  and  suffering,  to  feed  hungry  mouths,  and  cover 
 naked  backs,  to  enlighten  dark  minds  and  save  perishing 
 souls.  It  is  a  high  calling  to  be  fellow-workers  with  God, 
 to  be  instruments  of  righteousness  in  his  hands. 
 
 One,  by  trading  with  his  pound  gained  ten,  before  the 
 king  returned,  and  another  five.  Both  are  equally  approved, 
 but  unequally  rewarded ;  each  receives  as  his  recompense 
 all  that  he  had  won.  Two  principles  which  operate  in 
 the  spiritual  kingdom  are  symbolized  here;  one,  that 
 various  degrees  of  efficiency  and  success  obtain  among 
 the  faithful  disciples  of  Christ;  another  that  reward  in  his 
 kingdom  springs  from  work  and  is  proportioned  to  it. 
 
 The  parable  of  the  talents  recorded  by  Matthew  repre- 
 sented one  fact  in  the  history  of  the  kingdom,  that 
 different  persons  receive  differing  gifts  from  the  sovereign 
 God  :  this  parable,  recorded  by  Luke,  represents  another 
 fact  in  the  history  of  the  kingdom,  that  among  those  who 
 possess  equal  gifts  varieties  occur  in  the  skill  and  success 
 with  which  the  gifts  are  employed.  The  practical  lesson 
 from  the  former  parable  is.  If  with  all  your  efforts  you 
 fall  far  behind  your  neighbour  in  the  result  of  your  labour, 
 you  need  not  on  that  account  be  cast  down,  for  equal 
 diligence  will  meet  equal  approval,  whether  it  be  applied 
 
 '6\. 
 
S30  THE  SERVANTS  AND  THE  POUNDS. 
 
 to  a  large  capital  or  a  small;  the  lesson  of  the  latter 
 parable  is,  If  others  are  obtaining  greater  results  than 
 you,  strive  to  imitate  and  equal  them,  lest  your  oppor- 
 tunity not  have  having  been  fully  occupied,  you  should 
 obtain  at  last  only  a  small  reward.  The  first  puts  in  a 
 spring  to  keep  the  truly  faithful  from  sinking  into  de- 
 spondency because  their  talents  are  few;  and  the  second 
 puts  in  a  spring  to  keep  the  indolent  from  lagging  behind. 
 The  two  together,  one  on  this  side  and  one  on  that,  shut 
 all  up  to  diligence  in  the  work  of  the  Lord. 
 
 A  glimpse  is  given  here  of  the  method  in  which  rewards 
 are  bestowed  upon  faithful  servants;  each  receives  what 
 he  has  won.  The  work  of  the  saved  in  their  Master's 
 service  measures  in  some  way  their  recompense  at  their 
 Master's  side.  In  all  cases  the  wages  given,  seeing  they 
 depend  on  the  merits  of  the  Mediator,  must  be  immeasure- 
 ably  greater  than  the  work  done  ;  but  it  would  appear 
 that  the  differences  which  shall  obtain  in  heaven  will  bear 
 some  proportion  to  the  productiveness  of  the  service  here  : 
 the  whole  continent  will  be  elevated  as  by  the  immediate 
 power  of  God:  but  certain  points  will  stand  out  above 
 others  in  the  celestial  landscape  on  account  of  great 
 talents  greatly  used.  How  much  a  city  is  greater  in 
 value  than  a  pound  we  cannot  calculate  exactly,  but  the 
 difference  represents  the  gain  that  all  the  true  servants 
 will  make  at  the  cominof  of  the  king-.  All  the  faithful  are 
 made  great ;  but  the  greatest  worker  is  the  greatest  win- 
 ner when  the  accounts  are  closed.  Hold  on,  disciples  ; 
 every  grace  that  grows  into  strength,  through  bearing  and 
 doing  your  Redeemer's  will  here,  is  a  seed  that  will 
 multiply  your  enjoyment  manifold  when  you  come  to  the 
 inheritance.  Nor  is  this  a  mercenary  motive.  AtrueChris- 
 tian    can    never  separate  his  interests   from  Christ:   he 
 
THE  SERVANTS  AND  THE   POUNDS.  531 
 
 senses  his  Lord  in  love  to-day,  and  will  discover  at  last 
 that  in  serving  his  Lord,  he  has  been  enriching  himself. 
 
 The  case  of  the  servant  who  allowed  his  pound  to  lie 
 unused  is  not  different  from  the  corresponding  case  in  the 
 parable  of  the  talents  except  in  one  thing ;  in  this  parable 
 the  pound  which  the  indolent  servant  had  permitted  to 
 lie  idle  is  simply  taken  out  of  his  hands,  while,  in  the  other 
 parable,  the  unprofitable  servant  is  cast  into  outer  dark- 
 ness. 
 
 The  lesson,  in  as  far  as  it  is  the  same  in  both,  is,  that 
 not  only  those  who  do  positive  wickedness,  but  those 
 also  who  fail  to  do  good,  are  counted  guilty  in  God's 
 sight.  Inasmuch  as  in  this  parable  no  other  punishment 
 is  inflicted  on  the  indolent  servant  than  the  deprivation 
 of  his  capital,  it  may  possibly  be  intended  to  intimate 
 that  culpable  unfaithfulness  in  a  true  believer  may  some- 
 times descend  so  far  as  to  be  undistinguishable  by  human 
 eyes  from  the  entire  neglect  of  the  unbelieving.  There 
 is,  however,  in  all  cases,  a  dividing  line,  although  we  may 
 not  be  able  to  trace  it — "  the  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are 
 his."  Nor  does  this  conception  really  weaken  the  motive 
 to  diligence  ;  .for  if  any  one  should  slacken  in  his  efforts 
 to  serve  the  Lord  on  the  ground  that  a  great  degree  of 
 negligence,  although  it  may  diminish  his  reward,  does 
 not  imperil  his  safety,  this  very  thing  would  conclusively 
 prove  that  he  has  no  part  in  Christ.  It  is  the  nature  of 
 the  new  creature  to  be  forgetting  the  things  behind,  and 
 reaching  forth  to  those  that  are  before  ;  when  the  leaning 
 of  a  man's  heart  goes  in  the  opposite  direction — that  is» 
 when  he  deliberately  endeavours  to  make  matters  as 
 pleasant  as  possible  for  himself,  by  escaping  from  all 
 service  to  Christ,  except  as  much  as  is  necessary  to  carry 
 him  safe  to  heaven,  he  certainly  has  not  yet  been  born 
 
53  2  THE  SERVANTS  AND  THE  POUNDS. 
 
 again,  and  in  this  state  shall  not  see  the  kingdom.  He 
 who  sails  along  the  sea  of  Christian  profession,  loving  the 
 neighbouring  land  of  worldly  indulgence,  and  therefore 
 hugging  the  shore  as  closely  as  he  thinks  consistent  with 
 safety,  will  certainly  make  shipwreck.  Ah!  the  ship 
 that  thus  seeks  the  shore  is  drawn  by  the  unseen  power 
 of  a  magnet-mountain — drawn  directly  to  her  doom; 
 he  who  is  truly  bound  for  the  better  land  gives  these 
 treacherous  headlands  a  wide  berth. 
 
 The  last  lesson  is  the  judgment  pronounced  and  the 
 punishment  inflicted  on  the  adversaries.  They  who  v;ill 
 not  submit  to  Christ  the  crucified  will  be  crushed  by 
 Christ  the  king.  Every  eye  shall  see  him  ;  they  also 
 who  pierced  him.  Meekly  now  he  stands  at  the  door 
 and  knocks  ;  then  he  comes  as  the  lightning  comes. 
 
 One  hope  remains, — one  door  stands  wide  open  yet.  His 
 enemies  must  be  slain,  either  now  or  then.  The  enemies 
 of  the  Lord's  reign  in  the  present  world  are  the  evil  de- 
 sires that  occupy  a  man's  heart,  and  close  it  against  its 
 rightful  sovereign ;  drag  them  forth  and  slay  them  be- 
 fore him,  that  he  may  enter  and  possess  his  own.  Sur- 
 render his  enemies  into  his  hands  to-day,  and  you  will 
 henceforth  be  among  his  friends  ;  if  sins  be  sheltered  in 
 the  day  of  grace,  the  sinners  will  find  no  shelter  in  the 
 day  of  judgment. 
 
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BS2418.A765 
 Theparablesof  Our  Lord  ... 
 
 Princeton  Theological  Semmary-Speer  Library 
 
 1    1012  00061    7060 
 
 'Wm 
 
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