T. Now, I want three things in which these debtors were alike?

C. They both owed a debt. They had nothing to pay. The creditor frankly forgave them both.

T. And where was there a difference between them?

C. One owed more than the other, and one loved more than the other.

T. In looking for the "heavenly truth" in this parable, who must we understand by the creditor?

C. God.

T. And the debtors are ?
C. Sinners-Us.

T. Then, what do you think the debtors are?

C. Our sins.

T. Can you tell me where the word is used in asking for forgiveness ?

C. In the Lord's prayer, "Forgive us our debts, &c."

T. Whatever difference there may be in the amount of transgression, in what are we all alike ?

C. We are all sinners, and we have nothing to pay.

T. How does God forgive?
C. Frankly.

T. What do you mean by frankly?
C. From the heart.

T. Give me a text which tells us it was God's love led him to send a Saviour to us?

C." God so loved the world, &c." "When we were yet sinners Christ died for us."

T. What springs up in the heart which believes and accepts this free salvation?

C. Love.

T. Which comes first, the love or the forgiveness?

C. Forgiveness.

T. Yes, it is as we believe God's frank forgiveness that we feel how much we owe, and the larger we feel our debt to be,-the deeper our sense, that is, of sin, the deeper also will be our gratitude and the warmer our love. There was once a poor woman who

found it hard to trust in God's free forgiveness. A lady who was visiting her said, "Now, suppose you owed a large debt at the shop, and I went and paid it for you, would you be in any more trouble about it ?" "I take your meaning," was the poor woman's answer,

No, I should be in no more trouble about the debt, but I should be in a deal of trouble to know how to thank you enough!" Jesus has paid our debt. He frankly forgives,-what should be our only trouble about it?

C. How to thank Him enough. To live to His praise.

T. Having spoken this parable, to whom did Jesus apply it?

C. To Simon.

T. And who else? C. The woman.

T. There were three usual ways of showing kindness, or, as we should call it, courtesy, among the Jews which Simon omitted; tell me what they were?

C. He gave Jesus no water for His feet. He gave Him no kiss. He did not anoint His head.

T. If I were to invite any of you to my house, and when you came I neither gave you a seat, nor asked you to take your things off, nor offered you any refreshment, what would you think of it ?

C. We should think you very rude,· or that you did not care for us.

T. Yes, and if we love any one very much we think no trouble too great to show them how welcome they are. What then did Simon's conduct show? C. A want of love.

T. But see the difference between his coldness, and the "full deep heart" which the woman who felt her sinfulness poured out in acts of love. Our Lord says, "Thou gavest me no water for my feet, but she hath washed my feet," &c. "Thou gavest me no kiss, but she, since the time I came in," &c. "My head with oil thou didst not anoint, but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment."

T. Simon did not feel his need of Christ, therefore he did not love Him; but what did Jesus say of the penitent, believing, and therefore loving woman? C. Her sins, which are many, are forgiven."

T. Yes, she owed, as it were, the five hundred pence, but feeling her misery, she went to Jesus in faith, and what did he do?

C. Frankly forgave her.

T. And what was the proof of her forgiveness?

C. She loved much.

T. But he whose sense of sin is small will know little of Christ's love. This declaration of forgiveness was made to Simon, but what did Jesus add in His grace and love?

C. "He said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven."

T. It was much that she should hear; "her sins are forgiven," but it was a more blessed privilege still when the voice of Jesus added, "Thy sins are forgiven." So it is a great mercy for us, Sabbath after Sabbath, to hear God's ministers proclaim that God "pardoneth all those that truly repent and unfeignedly believe His holy Gospel," but it is a still greater mercy when by His word, and His Holy Spirit, He speaks to our hearts, and says, have put away thy sin." We find the sitters-by doubted again, but without noticing them, with what words did Jesus close this interview?

"I

C. "Thy faith hath saved thee, go in peace."

T. You see our Lord did not say, "Thy love hath saved thee,"-how is it that faith saves ?

C. It leads to Jesus.

T. Yes; just suppose I came to you with my hands full of sovereigns, what must you do before they could be yours? C. Take them.

T. Yes, I might offer them to you freely but if you put your hands behind you what then?

C. We could not have them.

T. And if you had fallen into a river, or were struggling in the sea, and a rope was thrown to you, what would you instantly do?

C. Catch hold of it.

T. Then in one sense the rope might be said to save you, though really your deliverance would depend on the person who held it. A little Irish girl was once asked, what faith was, and this was her beautiful and true reply, "Faith is catching hold of Christ with the heart." And the poor woman of whom we have been reading, had surely done this, she had caught hold of Jesus with her heart, and he received her graciously, loved her freely, and dismissed her with this sweet word, "go in peace." Would she go away to live in sin again, do you think?

C. Oh, no, teacher.

T. Why not?

C. Because she loved Jesus.

T. And what does He Himself say about our love to Him leading to obedience.

C. "If ye love me keep my commandments."

T. We shall be obliged to close without entering upon this as fully as I should like. Shut your books now, and answer only in turn. (The lesson rapidly recapitulated).

Look back, my dear girls once more at this scene. We have here, as in a picture, the pardoning Saviour, and before him stand the proud Pharisee, and the penitent woman. Which do you, each of you, most resemble? Are you thinking like the Pharisee that you are not so bad as this girl, or that girl, or is it your deep feeling that whatever others may have been or done you are guilty before God. Yes, you have sinned,—I have sinned;-unforgiven we must perish ;-God for Christ's sake freely forgives, how solemn for each of us the question, am I forgiven? And remember that love springs from for giveness, and obedience is the fruit and test of love. Now those who come to

All must be saved or lost. There is no middle course. You will be God's children or Satan's children; you can choose which. "God willeth not the death of any sinner, but rather that he should turn from his wickedness and live." Now is the time; for we know not what a day may bring forth, and we may never see to-morrow's sun.

When the foundations of the prison were shaken, when the earthquake opened the doors, and shook off the chains from every prisoner, the jailer at Philippi was so terrified that he would have killed himself. When he called for a light he sprang in, and came trembling to Paul and Silas, saying, "Sirs, What must I do to be saved ?" Such must be your feeling, and such must be your cry.

During the fearful storm of Oct. 25th, 1859, when so many lives were lost on our coast, one shipwreck was announced under circumstances that made men's hearts fail them for fear. The steam-ship "Royal Charter," one of the fastest and finest ships that ever sailed from England, was coming to Liverpool. Her passengers and crew numbered above 480 souls; more than four times the number of children here before me. All on board were full of glee at the thoughts of returning home,-all were rejoicing with each other,—a few hours more, and they expected to meet parents, or brothers, sisters, wives, hus. bands, friends! None said then," What must I do to be saved ?" A fine ship, a skilful captain, an obedient crew; what more did they want to bring them in safety? There had been no want on the voyage of persons meeting to worship God. Many prayers had no doubt been uttered for their preservation, but God saw not as man saw, and within a few hours of home 459 persons perished! Those who were prepared to meet their God, lighted their lamps, and soon, "being absent from the body, were present with the Lord." Those who were not prepared, had not

a moment given them to make their peace with an angry and offended God. Oh, the bitterness of the fearful cry that rent the air when the ship parted from bow to stern,-the fearful darkness and angry waters lending additional horror to the agony of the moment,— "What must we do to be saved ?" It was too late, salvation was passed; they had neglected to draw near to God when He had invited them, and now there was no longer time for repentance! "How shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation ?"

If you want to know how to die, it must be by living to the Lord Jesus. Believe on Him and be saved; reject his salvation so freely offered, and sooner or later conscience will make you cry out in bitterness, "What must I do to be saved ?" But some one may urge that he is strong and well; that he is not going to sea, and is not likely to be in danger; that there is plenty of time yet; that he will go on sinning, and afterwards turn to God. But is there

no danger on land? How many persons perished in London alone, in the storm that wrecked the "Royal Charter!" Men and women going to their work, were blown into the river or canal and drowned; others were killed by tiles and chimney-pots; others thrown down and injured. But it does not need a storm to show you that men, and women, and children perish. You have too often looked on the sad, cold face of death in your families, or among your neighbours, to make you doubt that all must die, and that no moment is secure, when you can say your life is your own.

Think you in that perilous moment, when the ship was grinding on the rocks, and not a moment seemed their own, that the crew and passengers gave themselves up to laughter and joy? Conscience was present, and the events of a past life crowded into a moment. What would they not have given for a few minutes or a few hours to mak