ECCLESIASTICAL.

Otago Witness, Issue 1966, 29 October 1891, Page 46

ECCLESIASTICAL.

THE P ARABLE OP THE SOWER. A Sbrmon Dklivbbed ok Sabbath Mobnin&, APBIL 15, 1860, BY THB EEV. C. H. SPUBGEON, AI BXETBB JffiXL, STRAND. "And when muoh people were gathered together, and were come to him out of every city, he spake by a parable : a sower went out to iow his seed : and as he sowed, some fell by the way side ; and It was trodden down and tbe fowls of the air devoured it. And some fell upon a rook ; and as soon as It was sprung up, ib withered away, became it laoked moisture. And some fell among thorns ; and the thorns sprang up with it, and choked it. And other fell on good ground, and sprang up, and bear fruit an hundredfold. And when he had said these things, he cried, He that hath cart to hear, let him hear.'?— Luke viii. 4-8. In our country when a sower goes forth with his •eed, he enters into an enclosed field, and begins at onoe with due order and precision to scatter the ■eed from his basket along every ridge and furrow ; but in the East, the corn-growing country, hard by a small town, is one vast unenclosed plain. True, it is divided into different properties, but there are no hedges, no divisions, except the ancient landmark, or perhaps on rare occasions a simple ridge of stones to divide one man's field from another. Through thete wide open common lands there are footpaths, the moit frequented being called the highways. You must not imagine these highways to be in the slightest degree like our macadamised roads, but simply frequented paths whioh are trodden tolerably hard. Here and there there are byeways, along which travellers who wish to avoid the public road may journey with a little more safety when the main road is. infested with robbers, and the hatty pedestrian oan strike out a short cut for himself across the plain, and to open a freth road for others who are journeying in the same direction. When the sower goet out in the morning to sow his seed, he finds, perhaps, a little spot of ground scratched over with the primitive Eastern plough; he begins to scatter his seed there of course most plentifully, but there runs a path right through the very centre of his field, and unless he is willing to leave a broad headland he must throw a handful on the pathway • and yonder there is a rook oropplng out just in the midst of the. ploughed land, and the seed falls on that : aud there too, fostered by the negligent husbandry of the Bast, there is a corner full of the roots of nettles and thistles, and the tower sowt hit seed there too ; the oorn and the nettles come up together, and as we know by the parable, the thorns S? % the strongest spring up and ohoke the seed, so that it bringeth forth no fruit unto perfection. The reoolleotion that the Bible wat written In the East, and that its metaphors and allusions are fully to be explained to us only by Eastern travellers, would very often help ut to understand a passage far better than the common English reader possibly can do. Now the preaoher of the gotpel is like the sower. r 6^ 06 !, 110 ' mßke hls Beed ' the seed is given him by hit Master. It would not be possible for a man to make the smallest seed that ever germinated upon the earth, muoh lets that celestial seed of eternal life. .The minister goes to his Master in secret and asks him to teach him his truth, and thus he fills his basket with the good seed of the J^T'u. l^* the "taster has to do is to go forth in hit Matter's name and scatter preoious truth. If he know where the beet soil was to be found, perhaps he might limit himself to that whioh had been prepared by the plough of conviotion. But pot knowing men's hearts it it his business to preach the gospel to every creature-to throw a handful on that hard heart yonder, aud another handful on that overgrown heart whioh is full of cares and Jtll h * >,• ! eedi a, th . c <»« of the Master who gave it to him, for well he understands that he is not responsible for the harvest, he is only respontible for the care, the fidelity, and the integrity with w^^ B0a mK 8 J i £ M "?' rl * llfe and left with both ££i£ B 2? j f Wha £ if not ? liDgle ear Bhould ever make glad the sheaves ; if never should there be seen a single green blade starting up among the XM W *sir •? m * a SS WW u U i d v be aooe P te d and rewarded by his Majter if he had bub sown the right seed, and sown it with careful hand. Alas I alas t — if it were not for this fact— that we are not responsible for our suocess -with what despairing agony must we remember that too often we labour in vain, and spend our strength for nought. The ory of Eaaias of old must be our ory still , "Who hath believed our report, and to whom is the arm of tbe Lord revealed ?" But one seed in four finds hopeful toil. The three portions out of the four scattered on evil places produce no good effect, but they are lost, and shall pc er be sten again except when they shall rise up In judgment agaio.it our ungracious hearers to condemn them. Here let me remark that the measure of our duty is not limited by the oharaoter of our hearers, but by the command of God. We are bound to preach the gospel, whether men will hear or whether they will forbear. Let men's hearts be what they may, I am not looted from the obligation to sow the teed on the rook as well at in the furrew, on the highway aa well as in the ploughed field. My plan this morning will be very simply' to addresi myself to the four olatsesof hearers that are to be found In my congregation. We have, first or all, those who are represented by tbe wayiide the mere hearers ; then those represented by the stony- ground hearers, those In whom there is a transient Impression produoed, so transient, however, that it never comes to any lasting good ; then those on whom a large and good impression is produced, but the cares of this life, and tbe deceitfulness of riohes, and the plea»ures of this world choke the teed j and, lastly, that small clast-God be ! Sf^JSSi mul "P lv ifc exceedlngly-that tmall class ! f«Xf" J ?i. 0U i ud hearerß< in whom Word brings I .om h ea f »rVf°o?d c "*** * '° me Bixt * and B «&.*&& SIS^ISS thetSde my " ce a f om O fl fell by the wajsWe, and it wat trodffd^and the fowls of the air devoured It " There aZ maSS of you who did not come here thismomin^ to get a blessing You did not intend to worship God for U be affeoted by anj thing that you might hear You are like the highway which was never intended to be a corn field. If a single grain of truth should fall Into your heart and grow It would be a miracle —as great a wonder as for the corn to grow upon the hardly-trodden wayside. You are the wayside hearer. If the corn, however, shall be dexterously scattered some of ib will fall upon you, and rest for a while upon your thoughts. 'Tls true you will not understand it, but nevertheless if it be placed before you ia an interesting style it will lodge for a little season. Until some more congenial entertainment shall attraot you, you will talk of the words whioh you heard from- the minister of truth. But even thit tlender benefit is brief, for In a very little season you will forget what manner of man you are.

Would to God I could hope that my words would tarry with you, but we cannot hope it, for the soil of your heart i» so well beaten by continual trafflo that there ii no hope of the leed finding a lasting and living roothold down Its root*. There is too muoh traffio in your soul to let the good seed remain unorushed. The foob of Satan is always passing ever your heart, with his herd of blaiphemies, lusts, and vanities. Then the chariot* of pride roll along it, and the feet of greedy mammon tread it till it is hard as adamant. Alas 1 for the good teed, it finds not a moment's response ; crowds pass and repass — in fact, your soul is an Bxohange, across which continually past the busy feet of tbe mrrchants, that make merchandise with the souls of men. You are buying and selling, but you little think that you are selling the truth, and that you are buying your soul's destruction ; you are busy here and there about this body, the husk of your manhood, but you are negligent of that internal, preoious thing, your soul. You have no time, you say, to think of religion. No, the road of your heart is such a crowded thoroughfare that there is no room for this Wheat to spring up. If it did begin to germinate, some rough foot would crush the gteen blade ere it could come to anything like perfection. There have been times with you when the seed bat lain long enough to begin to germinate, but just then there was some place of amusement open, and you entered there, and as with an iron heel, the spark of life that was in the seed was crushed ou& ; it had fallen in the wrong place ; there was too much traffio there for it possibly to grow. During the plague of London, when men were carried to their long home by multitudes, the grass, grew in the streets ; but corn could not grow in Oornhill, however excellent might be the seed which you should sow there. Ransack the world and you cannot purohase a wheat that would flourish where auoh traffic continually rolls along. Your heart is just like that crowded thoroughfare; for there are so many thoughts, and cares, and tins, so many proud, vain, evil, rebellious thoughts against God, continually trafficking through it, that the truth is like seed oast on the highway; it cannot grow, it is crushed down; and if it does remain a moment the birds of the air come and steal it away. Ay, bub it is a very sad thought, that if you should scatter seed en the highway, it is not only the foot of a bad man that would prevent its growing, but the foob even of a saint would help to destroy its life. Alas 1 men's hearts may be hardened, not merely by sin, but by the very preachiog of the gospel. There is luoh a thing as being gospel-hardened ; it is possible to sit Under sermons till your heart becomes dead, and callous, and careless. Like the blacksmith's dog that lies and sleeps while the sparks are flying about his nostrils, so you will lie and sleep under the hammer of -the law while the sparks of damnation are flying about you, never startled, never astonished. You have heard all that before; we tell you but a thrice-told tale when we warn you of the wrath to come. • The men that work in the huge boilers in the Southwark manufactories, when they are first put inside to hold the hammer their ears are stunned, they cannot hear a sound ; but by degrees, lam told, they are so used to tbat hideous noiee that they could sleep in the midst of the engine while men were battering it and beating it, although the reverberations are like the loudest thunder. So has it beoome with you ; minister after minister has trodden along the highway of your soul, till it has become sp bard, that unless God himself shall be pleased to crack it in sunder with an earthquake, or with an heartquake, there will never be room for the teed of heaven to lodge there. Your soul hat beoome like a hard, well-beaten path that hath muoh traffic on it. We have marked this hard roadside, let us now detoribe what becomes of the good word when it falls upon his heart. It does not grow, it would have grown if it had fallen on right soil, but it is in the wrong place, and it remains as dry at when ie fell from the tower's hand. Its life lies asleep, the life-germ in the gospel hides itself, and it lies upon the surface of the heart but never enters into it. Like the snow, whioh sometimes falls upon our streets and does not. lie there for an instant, but drops upon the wet pavement and is dissolved and gone, so it it with this man. The word has not time to quicken in the souls of tuoh oasual hearers of it. It lies there an instant, but it never begins to strike its root or to take the slightest efteot. But, we say, why do men come to hear if the word is never made useful to them, and never enters the heart P That has often puzzled me ; there are some of our hearers who would not be abtent on the Sunday for all the world, and who eeem to be quite delighted to come up with us to worship, but yet the tear never triokles down their cheek, their soul never seems mounting up to heaven on the wings of praise, nor do they truly join in our confessions of sin. When do they ever think about the wrath to come, or the future state of their souls ? Their heart it iron ; the minister might as well preach to a heap of stones as preach to them. What brings these senseless tinners here ? Shall we talk to browa of brass and hearts of steel ? Surely we are as hopeful jot converting lions and leopards as these untamed, unmoved hearts. Oh feeling 1 tbou act fled to brutish beasts, and men have lost their reason. I suppose these men often come because it is respectable, and again, because it even helps to make them hard ; if they stopped away conscience would priok them, there would be a little life in them, but they go that they may be able to flatter themselves with the notion' that they are doiog right after all. They are not irreligious, not they ; they are not regardless of God's house and of bis servant ; they come that they may get hardened, and may be more and more stultified in their state of sin and insensibility. Oh 1 my hearers, your case is one that might make an -angel weep ; to have the tun of the gospel shining on your facet, and yet to have blind eyes tbat never see the light. The music of heaven sounds sweetly, but your ears are deaf, and the faintest aoeenfc never reaches your poor spirit ; the minister is to you as one who plays upon a goodly instrument, but he plays before a statue that bas no cart to hear. You can oatoh the turn of a phraie, you can find out the meaning of a metaphor, but the hidden meaning, the dWiue life, is all lost upon you. You are fitting down at the marriage feast, but you eat not of tbe dainties, you drink not of those wines ; you hear the bells of heaven sounding jiy over ransomed spirits, but you yourself live unransomed, without God, and without Christ. You are standing at the gate of the narrow way, at the very gate, but yet you do not enter it ; you are close to the home of mercy, and the door is on the jar ; you stand, and sometimes look within,' but never cake tbe final and deoislve step. Let ut do what we may to urge you, let us plead with you and pray for you, and weep over you, you still remain just at hardened, at careless, and &» thoughtless as ever you were. Oh I may God have mercy on you, and bring you out of this evil state, that you may jet be saved. O Holy Spirit, break up this hard highway, and cause it yet to bring forth sbuadantly. We have nob, however, completed the picture. The passage tells us that the fowls of the air devoured it. Is there a man here this morning who is one of these wayside hearers ? Perhaps he did not mean to come in, but he saw a great crowd standing in the Strand, and he thought he would even turn In and spend the hour, and he will hear something, perhaps, which he will not readily forget ; but when he shall get outtide and go home, some old companion will propose to him that they should go on some excursion this afternoon. He agrees, and that poor seed whioh fell on such an unpropitlous spot will be devoured by the fowls of the air. There are plenty of evil ones ready always to eat np this good teed. There is the devil himself, that priuce of the air, ready at any time to snatch away a good thought of quench a holy resolution. And then the devil is not alone— he hath legions of helpers. He may set a man s own wife, a man's own ohildrea, he may set that shop of yours upon you, and it may eat up the good seed. There may be a customer waiting at the door, and though you have no wish to serve him today, yet you may be afraid of losing him, and you may do it, and then the good seed is gone, and all its good effect is carried away. Oh, sorrow upon sorrow, that heavenly seed should become devil's meat ; that God's oorn should feed the devil's birds ' Leb mo turn personally to you again this morning. Oh, my hearers, If you have heard the goßpel from your youth, what waggon loads of sermons have been wasted on you. In your younger days you heard old Dr Sa-and-so, and how that dear old man was wont to pray for his hearers till his eyes seemed red with tears I Do you recollect thoie many Sundays when you said to yourself, " Let me go to my chamber and fall on my knees and pray " ? But yOu did not ; the fowls of the air ate up the seed, and you went on to tin just as you had Binned. Since then.byeome strange impulse, yeu are very rarely absent from God's house ; but now the sparks of the gospel fall into your soul as if they dropped into an ooean, in which they are quenched for ever. The law may be thundered at you ; you do not sneer at It, but it never affects you. Jeeus Christ may be lifted up; his dear wounds aay ba exhibited ; the streaming bloofl may fl jw before your very eyes and you maybe bidden with all earnestness to look to him and live ; but it hat now become a matter of perfect indifference to you. You have not Bald so muoh in words, •• If I am to be lost I shall be lost, and if lamto be saved I shall be saved." You have not said so much, but you have come to think so,

and now we may do what we will with you, and wbat we will for you, your flinty spirits we cannot penetrate, and into your bard heart we cannot thrust a holy thought. Wbat thall I do for you ? Shall I ttand here and rain teart upon this bard highway ? Alas ! my teart will not break it ; it is far too hard for that. Shall I bring the gospel plough upon it ? Alas 1 it will break the steel j but the share will not enter. Wbat shall we do ? O God, thou knowett how to dash tbe flint in pieces. Tbou canst melc the stony long-travelled heart with the preoious blood of Jesus. Do it now, we beseeoh thee, to the praise and glory of thy grace, that the good seed may yet live, and yet produce that heavenly harvett after which the soul of thy servant yearns, without whioh he oannot live, but with whioh he can rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory. 11. I shall now turn to the second clans of hearers. " And some fell upon a rook, and at soon as it was sprung up it witheted away, because it lacked moisture." You can easily picture to yourselves tbat piece of rook cropping out in the midst of the field. By. tome disruption of Nature it hat been heaped upwardt into the mldsb of tbe plain, and of course the seed falls there as it does everywhere else. We bave hearers who oause ut more pleasure and yet more subsequent pain than many of you would believe. None but those who love the souls of men can tell wbat hopes, what joy, and what bitter dashings of our expectations i o the ground these stony places have caused ut. We have a class of hearert whose hearts inwardly are very hard, but outwardly they are apparently the softest and most impressable of men. While other men see nothing in the sermon these men weep. It is but an ordinary disoourte to tbe most of our hearert, but thete men are affected to tears. Whether you preach the terrors of the law or tbe love of Calvary they are alike stirred in their souls, and the liveliest impressions are apparently produoed. I have some auoh here this morning. They bave resolved, re-retolved, and yet have prooraailnated. They are not the sturdy enemies of God who clothe themselves in steel, but they seem to bare their breattt, and lay them open, and say to tbe minister, " Out here; here it a naked breast for you. Here aim your arrows. They shall find a ready lodging place." Eejoiced in heart, we shoot our arrows there, and they appear to penetrate ; but, alas t there it a secret armour worn underneath the flesh which blunts every dart, and though it abidet a while it falls away, and no work is done. We read of this character under this language — "Some fell upon atony places, where they had not muoh earth : and forthwith they sprung up, because they had no deepness of earth." Or, as another passage explains it—" And these are they likewise which are sown on stony ground ; who, when they have heard the word, immediately reoeive it with gladness ; and have no root in themselves, and so endure but for a time ; afterward, when affliction or persecution ariteth for the word's sake, immediately they are offended." Oh I have we not tens Of thousands of our hearers who reoeive the word with joy ? They have no deep oonviotions, it is true, no tertible alarms, but they leap into Christ on a sudden, and profess an Instantaneous faith in him, and that faith too hat all the appearance of being genuine. When we look at it tbe teed has really sprouted. There is a kind of life in it, there is tbe real green blade. We thank God, and bow our knees, and clap our hands -there it a sinner brought back, we say, there ii a soul born to God, there is an heir of heaven. But our joy is premature—they sprang up on a sudden, and received the word with joy, because they had no depth of earth, and from tbat very oauie which hastened their reoeption of the seed they also by and bye, when the tui is riten with his fervent heat, withered away. These men we see every day in the week. They often come to join tbe Church ; they tell us a story of how they heard us preach on such-and-such au occasion — and, oh 1 the word was to blessed to them, they never fels so happy in their lives " Ob, sir, 1 | thought I must leap from my seat when I heard about a precious Christ, and I believed on him there aud then ; lam sure I did." We ask them whether they ever felt their need of a Saviour. They say " Yes," but they mean " No." We question them as to whether they were ever oonvinoed of sin Well, they think they were, but thay don't know ; but one thing they know t they feel a great pleasure in religion. We put it to them, "Do you think you will hold on?" Oh, they are confident they shall. They oould not go baok to their old acquaintance ; they are quite sure of it. They hate the things they I once loved ; they are sure they do .Everything hat become new to them. And all this on a sudden. We inquire when the good work began. We find it began when it ended— that is to say, there was no previous work, no ploughing of the soil, but on a eudden they sprang from death to life and out of condemnation into grace, as a man standing on the edge of a river might leap into the flood. Still we are very thankful for these men. We cannot deny that there seems to be every appearance of grace. Perhaps we receive them into the Church ; but in a week or two they are not to regular sb they u<ed to be at a place of' worship. We gently reprove them, and they say— well, they meet with tuoh opposition in religion that they are content to yield a little Another week and we lose them altogether. The reason is that they have been laughed at, expoied to a little opposition.' and they have gone back. They are the Mr Ptiables ; they will go to heaven with Christian, for heaven is a brave country. So they walk arm in arm, cb.at.tiDg so sweetly together about the world to oome. But by and bye there is a bog— the Slough of Despond— and in goes poor Christian, and Mr Pliable falls in too. "Oh I " says he, " I did not bargain for this ; I did not bargain to have my mouth filled with dirt ; if I can once get out, and get baok, you may have the brave country all to yoursdf for me." So the poor man flounders out as best he oan, and lands on the same side as his own home ; and baok he goes, so glad to think he has escaped from the melancholy necessity of being a Christian. And what think you are the feelings of .the minister? He feels that he had raokoned 100 early upon hit suocess. He is like the husbandman who sees his field all green and flourishing, and at night a frost nips every shoot and the poor farmer mourns because hit hoped-for galnt are gone. So does the minister ; he goes to bis chamber, and casts himself on his faoe before God, and cries, " Oh, I have been deoeived ; this man hath returned like the dog to his vomit ; like the sow that has been washed, to her wallowing in the mtre." You will remember that anolent pioture of Orpheus, who had suob skill upon the lyre, tbat the anolents said he made very oaks and stones dance around him. It it a poetioal fiction, and yet hath it tometimes happened to the minister tbat not only have the godly rejoiced but the very oaks and stones have danced from their places ; but alas I they have been eaka and ttonet still. Hushed is the lyre, and the oak returns to itt rooking place, and the ttone casts itself once more heavily to the earth. The sinner, who, like Saul, was among the prophets, goes baok to plan mischief against the Lord Most High. He who sung yeiterday, and prayed the day before in the publia astembly, goes to the tavern to curse ; be rolls through the streets on the Sabbath night whioh follows his reception Into the Church visible on earth. I had one man who caused me many bitter tears. In a certain village he was the ringleader of all that was bad ; he was a tall, fine, big fellow, and a man that could drink more largely than, perhaps, any man for miles around him. He was the terror of the neighbourhood— a man who would curse and swear, and never knew a thought of fear. He stepped in one day to hear the Word of God, and he wept. All the parish was astonished) There was old So-and-so weeping, and it was rumoured about that Tom felt impressed ; he began regularly to attend the chapel, and was manilestly an altered man. The public-home lost an excellent customer ; he was not seen in the skittle alley, nor wat he deteoted in the drunken rows tbat were so common in the neighbourhood. At laat be ventured to come forward at the prayer meeting; be talked about what he had experienced, what he had felt and known. I beard him pray; it was rough, rugged language, but there was such impassioned earneatness. I set him down as being a bright jewel in tbe Redeemer's crown. He held out six, nay, nine months he persevered in our midst. If there was rough work to ba done, he would do it ; if there was a Sunday-school to be maintained six or teven miles away, he would walk there. At any risk he would be out to help in the Lord's work ; if he oould but be of service to the meanest member of the Church of Christ he rejoicad greatly. So he went on ; but at last tbe laughter to which he was exposed, the jeers and scoffs of his old companions— though at first he bore them like a man— became too muoh for him. He began to think he bad been a little too fanatical, a little too earnest. He tlunk up to the place of worship instead of coming boldly in; he gradually forsook week-night service, and forsook the Sabbath day at latt; and though often warned and often rebuked he returned to his old habits, and though never again such a mouster in sin as he bad been before.lyet any.thoughts of God or godliness that he had ever known seemed to die away. He oould again take the blasphemer's oath ; onoe more oould he act wiokedly with the profane; and he -of whom we had often boasted, and said in our meetings together, "Ohl how muoh Is God to be glorified by this ! what oannot graoe do ? " — to the confusion of us all, was to be seen sometimes drunk in our streets, and then it was thrown in our teeth, " This is one of

your Christians, is it ?— one of your converts gone back again, and beoome as bad as he was before ? " If it is bad to be like the wayside hearer, I cannot think it it muoh better to be like the rook. And yet tb<s second class of hearers certainly give ut more joy than- the first. There is a sort of people who always come round a new minister; and I have often thought it is an act of God's kindneit in Providence that be always tendt some of these people at first, while the minister is young and has but few to stand by him- a clais of people who are easily moved, and it he preaches earnestly they feel it, and they love him, and they gather round him. But time, that proves all things, proves them. They seemed to be made of good and true metal, but they are put in the fire, they are tested, they are proved, they are consumed in the furnace. I see as I look here some one or two of tbat kind. Ido not know the most of you, but I do see some of whom I must say, "Ye are the very persons here described." I have looked at you when I have been preaohing and often have I thought, "There, that man one of these days will oome out from the world ; lam sure he will." I have thanked God for him. Ah t but these seven years have we preached to you, and you are the same as you were. Well, there may be seven years more— who can tell ? and are those to be seven years of wasted efforts ? are those to be seven years of warnings rejected and of invitations refused? Can it ba so, and mutt you be carried to your tomb at latt, and shall I ttand over the mouth of that open sepulchre and think, " Here lies a blatted hope, a flower that withered in its bud, a man in whom graoe seemed to struggle, but in whom it never reigned, who gave some hopeful tpatmt of life, and then they all subiided into the coldness and languor of eternal death " ? God save you 1 Oh I may be deal with you effectually, and may you, even you, yet be brought in, that Jesus may have all the glory. 111. I shall have very briefly to treat of the third clan, and may the Spirit of God attitt me to deal faithfully with you. " And tome fell among thorns, and the thorns sprung up aud choked it." Now thit wat good toll. Tbe two first characters were bad. The wajaide was not the proper place, the rock was not a oongeuial situation for the growth of any plant ; but this is good Boil, for if grows thorns. A soil that will grow thistles will surely grow wheat. Wherever the thistle will spring up and flourish there would wheat flourish too. Thit was ri«ht rich, fat, fertile soil ; it was no marvel therefore tbat the husbandman dealt largely there, and threw handful after handful upon that corner of the field. See how happy he is when in a month or two's time he visits the spot. The seed has sprung up.. True, there's a suspioious little plant down there of about tbe same sizj as the wheat. "Oh I" he thinks, ■"that's not much; the corn will outgrow that; when it grows up it will ohoke these few thistles tbat have unfortunately mixed with it." Ay, Mr Husbandman, thou dosfc not understand the force of evil, or thou wouldst not thus dream 1 He comes again, and the seed has grown, there is even the corn In the ear, but the thistles, the thorns, and the briars have become intertwisted with one another, and th« poor wheat can htrdly get a ray of sunshine. It is to festooned with brambles every way that, what with the drippings from the brambles and the abseace of sunlight, it looks of a yellow and sallow hue. Still it lives ; it perseveres iv growing, and it does eeem-as if it would bring forth . a little fruit, but it never comes to anything. WiGh it the reaper never fills his arm. There it the sigu of fruit, but there is no reality in it ; It brings forth no fruit unto perfection. Now we have this class very largely among ut. We have the gentlemen and ladies who oome up to hear the word, and they understand what they hear too. They are not Ignorant and unenlightened men and women, who oast away what they have heard. We are not throwing pearls before swine when we preach to them, but they recollect and treasure up tbe words of truth; they take them home; they think them over ; they come, they come, they oome again. They even go the length of making a profession of religion. The wheat seems to bud, and bloom and blossom ; it will soon oome to perfection. Be in no hurry. These men and women have a great deal to see after ; they have the cares of a large concern ; their establishment employs to many hundred hands ; do not be deoeived about their godliuess—they have no time for it. They will tell you that they must live ; that they cannot negleot this world ; that they must anyhow look out for the present, and as for the future they think they will be able to take oare of that by and bye. They continue to attend, and tbat poor little dwindled blade keeps on growing ; and now they have got rich they can c,<me up to the place of worship in their carriage— they have all that heart can wish now. Ah I now the seed will grow, will it not ? No, no. They have no cares now ; the shop is given up, they live in the country; they have not to ask, "Where shall the money oome from to meet the next bill ?" or " How they shall be able to provide for au increasing family ?" No, now they have too muoh instead of too little, for they have their riches. " Well, but," says one, " they might spend their riches for God; they might be talents that they could put out at interest." Oh no ! it is not that ; their riches are deoeitful. Now they have to entertain muoh company, now they mutt be respectable, now they must think about becoming members of Parliament, now they mußt have all the deoeitfulness whioh riches can possibly oonfer. Yes, but they begin to spend their riches, so they bave surely got over that difficulty. They give largely to the cause of Christ, they are munifioent in the oaute of charity, and the like; now that little blade will grow, will it not? No, for now behold the thorns of pleasure. Their liberality to others involves liberality to themselves ; they take pleasure In what they have,. and quite right they should to > j but at the same time these pleasures become so tall and so big that they ohoke the wheat, and the good grains of gospel truth cannot grow because they have this pleasure, that musical party, that ball, and tbat soiree; so they oaniiob attend to the things of God, because the pleasures of the world ohoke the seed. I know several fearful specimens of this elats. It were not fair to tell the story if it should be known again, bnt I might tell of scores. I know one who stands high in court oiroles, who has often confessed to me that he withes he were poor, for he thinks that then he might enter the kiDgdom of heaven. He holds a high position, but he has said it— and- said it too with marks upon his countenance whioh showed that he meant what he said— "Ah I sir, these politics, these politici, I wish I were rid of them— they are eating the life out of my heart ; I oannot serve God at I would. I only wish I could retire to some sequestered place to seek my Saviour." I know of one, too, overloaded perhaps with riches, always kind and noble with them too ; tbat man has said to me— when we have walked together and I bave redd bit very thought! — " Ah ! tir, it it an awful thing to be rich, for one oannot find it eaty to keep to the Saviour with all this earth about me." Ah I my dear hearers, I will not ask for you that God may lay you on a bed of tiokness, that he may strip you of all your wealth, that he may bring you to beggary, that he may take away your comforts - I will not ask that; but, oh! if he were to do It, and you' were to save your soul, it would be the greatest bargain you oould ever make. If the king could doff his diadem to be taved ; if those mightiest among tbe mighty who now make this complaint, tbat the thorns ohoke the teed, oould give up all their riches and be banished from all their plea<sures ; if all their luxury should be turned into poverty, and if they tbat fare sumptuously every day oould take tbe place of Lazarus on the dunghill, and bave dogs to lick their sores, It were a happy change for them if their souls might be but saved. Mind you, I do not believe but what a man may be honourable and rioh, and have muoh pleasure in the mercies of God, and then go to heaven hereafter ; but it will be bard work with him : "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into tbe kingdom of heaven." Some of thoie camels do go through the needle's eye ; God doet make tome rich men enter the kingdom of heaven, but hard it their struggle, and desperate is the strife they always bave against their proud flesh to keep it under and subdue it. Steady, young man, steady I hurry not to get up there. It is a place where thy bead will turn. Do not ask God to make thee popular ; they that have popularity hate it, and would be rid of it. Do not ask that he would make thee famous and rioh ; they that are famous and rioh often look within, and wish that they could go back to the quietude they onoe enjoyed. Cry with Agur— " Give me neither poverty nor riches." God give me to tread the golden mean, and may I ever have In my heart that good seed which shall bring forth fruit a hundredfold to his own glory. IV. I now close with the latt character— namely, the good ground. Of the good soil, as you will mark, we have but one in four. Ah 1 would to God there were one In four of us here with well-prepared hearts to receive the Word. The ground was good— not that it was good by nature, but it bad been made good by graoe. God had ploughed it ; he bad stirred it up with the plough of conviction, and there it lay in ridge and furrow, as it should be. And when the Gospel was preached the heart received it, for the man said, " That's jutt the Christ I want. Mercy 1 " said he ; " it's just what a needy sinner requires. A refuge 1 God help me to fly to it, for a refuge I

sorely want." go that the preaching of the gospel wasthe thing to give comfort to thit disturbed and ploughed soil. Down fell the seed ; it (prune up. In some cases It produoed a fervency of love, a largeness of heart, a devotednets of purpose, like seed which produoed a hundredfold. The man became a mighty servant for God ; he spent hlms-lf and wat tpent. He took his place in the vanguard of Christ's army, stood in the hottest of the battle, and did deeds of daring whioh few could accomplish— the seed produced a hundredfold. It fell in another heart of like character. The man could not do the moit, still he did much. He gave himself, just at he wat, up to God, and in his business he had a word to say for the business of the world to come. In his daily walk,he quietly adorned the doctrine of God his Saviour— he brought forth sixtyfold. Then 16 fell on another whote abilities and talents were but small ; he could not be a star, but he would be a glow-worm ; he could not do as the greatest but he was content to do something, even though It were the least. The seed had brought forth in him tenfold j P e f h *P ß twentyfold. How many have I of such in this vast congregation to-day ? I came here aa mm J aoul aII 0I » fire to preach to you; but a sudden darkneis and heaviness of soul has possessed me, and while I have been addressing you I have EKESt h "OT B ? irlt ** &ia « w'nd wd tide! But may I hope that notwithitanding the awkward' some good spot, some happy soil ? Is there one who prays within himself, " O Lord save me- God be merciful to me a sinner "t The seed hat 'fallen £ the right spot. Soul, thy prayer shall be heard; God never sets a man longing for mercy without ntending to give ft And does another 7 whisper! !», t ' !i. h ? fc * ml « h t •»« «aved "? Soul, " Believe on S?°» d w t T,? btit J i ' and fchou ' even » h °v, «hllt be OhH.; J?"ft thou beenthe ohl ef of sinners p Trust Christ, and thy enormous tint thall vwilth at the millttone links beneath the flood. Is there no man here that will now trust the Saviour? Can It be possible that (to Spirit is entirely absent ? that he .nJr?e% m °w« g ni one 10u l ? nofc begetting life la one tpirit? We will pray that now he may desoend; that scattered badly as the seed may be the protect! i?f in*J? Watol ! over ifc ' and fo » ter aQ d nourish it till it bhall come to an eternal harvett What a solemn thought it is-to think of these great Sunday gatherings these many years, coming aad going, coming and going, and so iwmy vet un-' taved 1 I suppose id is my lot to address more than one or two millions every year of precious immortal spirits; and how many out of these millions hear with deaf cart. are not moved in their loult, but continue as they were, dead in treipasses and in sins ? The thought sometimes staggers me : Shall these congregations pass before my eye* in eternity and if I have been unfaithful shall I be spit upon by every mouth of every man whom I have deceived ? Shall every eye of the millions I have addressed flash fiery damnations on me throughout eternity ? They must, they must, if I have not sought your welfare, and if I have not preached to you the gospel of our Lord and Saviour Jeaus Ohriit. I implore you, I beieech of you, if your blood must fall somewhere, at least take heed to what I say now, or permit me to hope that you will acceptme.at having tried to be faithful to you, lest your blood be found on my skirts. But why should that blood be scattered any where ? Is there not hope? Is there not salvation ? Is there not, while life lasts, itlll an open door of escape ? flee, my hearer, flee 1 I beieech thee flee, I implore thee by the living God, by time, by eternity, by heaven, by hell, flee, flee to Jesus ere Death o'ertakes thee, for he is after thee— that skeleton rider on his pale hone, and ere damnation reaches thee flee, flee to him whose opened arms are ready to recuive thee now. Trust Jesus and thou art saved : "He that believeth on tbe Lord Jekus, and Is baptised, shall be saved; he that be* lieveth not must be damped." Am I fanatical or enthusiastic in begging, in beseeching you to think of these things ? " Fanatic," at the day of judgment, will only mean a man who was in earnest. An "Enthusiast" will only. mean one who meant what he said Oh ! believe on the Lord Jesus Ohrltt, lest now, even while you are here, God's wrath should burn, and his switt justice overtake you: " Come, guilty souls, and flee away To Christ, and heal your wounds ; Thit is the welcome gospel day, Wherein free graoe abounds." —After listening to a Parliamentary candidate's fervid appeal, a shrewd old farmer. was asked what he thought of the speech. His reply was simply,*" Weel, I dinna ken, bat I think six hours' rain would ha' done us a deal mair goid ! " .

Bminen Hotlcei.

Buiinen Hotioei.

Bminess Noticei.