And how agrees this too frequent case with the sketching of our parable? We look upon men, whose virtues make them the ornaments of society, and whose zealous attention to the various duties of life deservedly secures them respect and esteem. You would gather from their deportment, from their apparent readiness to discharge faithfully every known obligation, that the setting before them what God requires at their hands would suffice to secure their unwearied obedience. If you say to them, in the name of the Almighty, Son, go work to-day in my vineyard," their answer, as furnished by all that seeming desire to act rightly which has forced itself on your attention, is one of sincere and hearty compliance. But so soon as they come to know what working in the vineyard means, alas, it is with them as it was with the pharisees and scribes, who, with every profession that they waited for Messiah, no sooner saw him "without form or comeliness," than they scornfully refused to give him their allegiance. These self-righteous men are ready enough to work, because it is by works of their own that they think to gain heaven. But when they find that their great work is to be the renouncing their own works, and that the vineyard, in which you invite them to labor, is one in which man's chief toil is to humble himself, that Christ may be exalted-this gives the matter altogether a new aspect; they would labor at building the tower of Babel, but they have no idea of laboring at pulling it down. And thus does it come to pass, that the ministers of the Gospel are repulsed with a more than common vehemence; and that their message is thrown back, as though the delivering it had been an insult. We can but mourn over men, who, with every thing to recommend them to their fellows, honorable in their dealings, large in their charities, true in their friendships, are yet dishonest to themselves and false to their God-dishonest to themselves, for they put a cheat on their souls; false to their God, for they give him not what he asks, and all else is worse than nothing. Yes, we could lament, with a deeper than the ordinary lamentation which should be poured over every lost soul, when integrity and generosity,

and patriotism and disinterestedness, all beautiful and splendid things, have only helped to confirm men in rejection of the Gospel, and have strengthened that dislike to the peculiar doctrines of christianity, which is natural to the heart, but which must be expelled, else we perish. And when we are asked whether it can indeed be, that men, so amiable and admirable, who have a yearning heart for every tale of sorrow, and an open hand for every case of destitution, and an instinctive aversion to whatever is mean and degrading, are treading the downward path which leads to the chambers of everlasting death, we can only say that the very qualities which seem to you to mark a fitness for heaven, have prevented the passage through that strait gate of the vineyard, which is wide enough for every sinner, but too narrow for any sin; and that thus has been paralleled the whole case of the second son, who said to his father, "I go, sir," and went not.

And now we must have said enough to convince you that the delineation of our parable is not local or temporary, but may justly be extended to all ages of the church. We make this assertion, because though, as yet, we have only examined the case of one son, our remarks have had an indirect bearing on that of the other. We have shown you that the obstacles to the reception of the truths of the Gospel are often greatest where appearances seem to augur the readiest welcome. Where the promise is most freely given, how frequently is the performance withheld. And though the converse of this may not be necessarily true, namely, that, where we have refusal at first, we may expect ultimate compliance, yet, undoubtedly the case of the second son prepares us to feel no surprise at that of the first. If there be final refusal, where there is most of present consent, it can be no ways strange that there should be final consent, where there is most of present refusal.

This it is which is represented to us in the instance of the first son. His father came to him, and said, "Son, go work to-day in my vineyard." "He answered and said, I will not; but afterward he repented and went." There could be nothing more discourteous,

as well as nothing more peremptory, than the reply. He addresses his father with nothing of that respectful language which the second son used, and which might at least have softened the refusal. There is a harshness and bluntness in the answer, which, independently of the disobedience, proved him of a churlish and unmanageable temper. And we know, from the application which Christ himself made of the parable, that this first son is the representative of those more depraved and profligate characters, who make no profession of religion, but treat it with open contempt. There are many who will even go the length of boldly proclaiming their resolve to live "without God in the world," who glory in their shame; and who think it for their credit, as marking a free and unshackled spirit, that they have got rid of the restraints which the dread of future punishment imposes. Others again, who have not hardened themselves to this desperate degree, seem yet wholly inaccessible to warning and reproof; for they have, at least, persuaded themselves that they shall have a long lease of life, and that it will be soon enough at the eleventh hour to go and work in the vineyard. And in all such cases, whether we meet with the contemptuousness of unblushing immorality, or the coldness of determined indifference, we have the unqualified refusal which the first son gave his father-sometimes in a harsher, and at other times in a milder tone -but always the "I will not," which seems to preclude all hope of obedi

ence.

These are the cases which seem most calculated to dispirit a minister; for it is even more disheartening to find that he makes no impression, than that, where it has been made, it has been quickly effaced. It is manifestly only the treacherous nature of the surface, which is in fault in the latter case; but in the former, he may fear that much of the blame is chargeable on his own want of energy in wielding his weapons. He may even, in moments of despondency, be wrought into a suspicion that these weapons are not as mighty as he had been instructed to believe. And therefore it is a marvellously cheering thing to be told

of the first son, that, "afterward he repented and went." We do not believe that the precious seed of the word is all lost, because there is no immediate harvest. We remember that great principle in God's dealings, which is announced by St. Paul, "That which thou sowest is not quickened, except it first die." It is often, we are persuaded, in spiritual things, as it is always in natural-the grain is long buried, and, to all appearance, lost; but then suddenly come the signs of vegetation, and the soil is pierced by the fresh green blade.

We now address ourselves to those amongst you who have never entered the vineyard, who have never broken up the fallow ground, and sown to themselves in righteousness. We know not whether the number who fall under this description be great or small; nor whether it be mainly composed of those living in open sin, or of those who are only indifferent to the high claims of religion. But we say to these men, and these women, go, work to-day in the vineyard. We call upon them, and entreat them, that, whilst God yet strives with them by his Spirit, and the free offer of salvation is made them in his name, they would consider their ways, and turn unto the Lord, lest the evil day come upon them "as a thief." We anticipate what will be practically their answer. There may indeed be a solitary exception. Even now may there be the casting down of some stronghold of unbelief; and there may be one in this assembly, in whom our word is working energetically, convincing him of sin, and persuading him to make trial of Christ's power to save. But from the mass of those whom the first son represents, we can look for nothing but his answer; and if we could single out the individuals, and bid them to the vineyard, "I will not" would be but too faithful an account of their reply. And yet we do not necessarily conclude that we have labored in vain. Oh no, far enough from this. The word, which we have spoken, may in many cases have gained a lodgment, though long years may elapse ere it forth its vigor. If we could follow, through the remainder of their lives, those with whom we now seem to plead wholly in vain, we can feel that we should find a

put

worketh repentance. And when you ask me upon what I am bold enough to ground such a prophecy, and from what data I venture to predict that my sermon shall not die, but, though long forgotten, start finally into power and persuasiveness-my reply is, that the case of the first son in the parable must have cases which correspond to it in all ages of the church, and that we read of this son, that, though he refused, when bidden, to work in the vineyard, yet "afterward he repented and went."

There are two cautions suggested by this latter part of our subject, and with these we would conclude. The first is to parents, and guardians, and ministers; in short, to all whose business it may be to counsel and instruct. Let not the apparent want of success induce you to relax in your endeavors. You see that he who gives you a flat refusal, may ultimately reward you better than he who gives you a fair promise. Be not, therefore, disheartened; but rather act on the wise man's advice, "In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy hand; for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either

this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good."

Our second caution is to those who may be ready, with the first son, to give a direct refusal, when bidden to go and work in the vineyard. Let not the thought, that you may afterwards repent, encourage you in your determination that you will not yet obey. The man who presumes on what is told us of the first son will never, in all probability, be represented by that son. I may have hopes of a man whose moral slumbers I cannot at all break; I almost despair of a man whom I can so far awaken that he makes a resolution to delay. The determining to put off is the worst of all symptoms: it shows that conscience has been roused, and then pacified; and wo unto the man who has drugs with which he can lull conscience to sleep. Again therefore we tell you that the exhortation of the text is limited as to time. "Go, work to-day in my vineyard." To-morrow the pulse may be still, and there is "no work nor wisdom in the grave." To-day ye are yet amongst the living, and may enroll yourselves with the laborers whose harvest shall be immortality.

These words occur in the Gospel of St. Luke, as well as in that of St. Matthew; but the times of delivery were

• Preached on behalf of the London Society

for the conversion of the Jews.

undoubtedly different. As given by St. Luke, they form part of Christ's answer to certain Pharisees, who had come to him with intelligence that Herod sought to kill him. At this time, as it would seem, our Savior was mak

ing his last circuit of Galilee, before his arrival at Jerusalem at the fourth passover. But, as given by St. Matthew, the words appear to have been the last which Christ uttered in public, having been delivered just before his final departure from the temple, on the evening, most probably, of the Wednesday in Passion-week. You cannot have any doubt, if you compare the passages in the two Evangelists, that the words were uttered on very different occasions, so that, if what they contain of prophecy may have had a seeming accomplishment between the two deliveries, we should still have to search for an ampler fulfilment.

We make this remark, because, as you must all remember, when Christ made his public entry into Jerusalem from Bethany, a few days before his crucifixion, he was attended by a great multitude, who saluted him in the language of our text. "And they that went before, and that followed, cried, saying, Hosanna, blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord." Had our text been found only in St. Luke, delivered on an occasion which preceded the triumphant reception of Christ, it might have been argued that what occurred at this reception fulfilled all its prophecy. Yet it would then have been easy to show that Christ must have referred to some more permanent reception of himself than that given by an inconstant multitude, who, within a few days, were as vehement in demanding his crucifixion as they had been in shouting Hosanna. We are however spared the necessity of advancing, or pressing, this argument, inasmuch as the words, as recorded by St. Matthew, were uttered subsequently to Christ's entry into Jerusalem, and could not, therefore, have been fulfilled by that event.

It should further be remarked, that the saying, "Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord," is taken from a Psalm, the 118th, which the Jews themselves interpreted of the Christ. It is the Psalm in which are found the remarkable words, "The stone which the builders refused is become the head-stone of the corner"-words which Jesus brought to bear on the chief priests and scribes when they deprecated the taking the vineyard

from the unfaithful husbandmen. We may therefore suppose, that, in quoting from this Psalm, the people designed to express their belief that Jesus was Messiah. We may further suppose, that, in declaring that Jerusalem should not see him again, till ready to apply to him the words he adduced, our Lord had respect to some future acknowledgment of his kingly pretensions.

We wish you to bear carefully with you these preliminary observations, as necessary to the settling the right interpretation of our text. Whatever may be your opinion of the import of the passage, as delivered by St. Luke, you can hardly fail to allow, that, as delivered by St. Matthew, it can have respect to no events recorded in the Gospels. The words were uttered by Christ, when concluding his public ministry: he left the temple so soon as he had pronounced them, and never again entered its precincts. We are, therefore, to take the text as Christ's parting address to his unbelieving countrymen; so that, in whatever degree they are prophetic, in that same degree must they belong to occurrences which were to follow his departure from earth.

Now it will be admitted by you all, that there is something singularly pathetic in the text, when thus regarded as the last words of Christ to the Jews. The Savior is taking his farewell of those whom he had striven, by every means, to lead to repentance. He had wrought the most wonderful miracles, and appealed to them in proof that he came forth from God. He had delivered the most persuasive discourses, setting forth, under variety of imagery, the ruin that would follow his being rejected, and offering the largest blessings to all who would come to him as a deliverer. But all had been in vain : and he knew that the time was at hand, when the measure of guilt would be filled up, and their Messiah be crucified by the Jews. Yet he would not depart without another and a bolder remonstrance. The chapter, of which our text is the conclusion, and which, as we have already stated, is the parting sermon of Christ, is without parallel in the Gospels for indignant rebuke and emphatic denunciation. The preacher seems, for a while, to have laid aside his meekness, and to have