so doing, I should raise greater doubts, and do more harm than good to the cause, for people look not to words but to grounds." Will it be believed that this noble gentleman and worthy minister of Christ, was not permitted to return to his charge, and that he was afterwards persecuted till his death, by the mean jealousy of the bishops, who set spies on his conduct, and procured orders to drag him from one corner of the kingdom to another. From the descriptions of contemporaries, it appears that his outward appearance and manner corresponded with the dignity of his mind. "He had," says Livingstone, who was well acquainted with him, "a very majestic countenance, and whenever he did speak in public or private, yea, when he read the Word, I thought it had such a force as I never discerned in any other man. He was both in public and private very short in prayer with others; but then every sentence was like a bolt shot up to heaven: yea, I have heard him say that he wearied when others continued long in prayer, but being alone he spent much of his time in that exercise. It was his custom, after the first sermon, to retire by himself for prayer; and one day, some noblemen who had far to ride, sent the beadle to learn if there was any appearance of his coming. The man returned and told them, I think he shall not come this day, for I overheard him always say to another, that he will not go, and cannot go without him, and I do not hear the other answer him a word at all.'" It is needless to explain to you who the other was, whose silence astonished the ignorant beadle. The manner of his death was beautifully in accordance with the tenor of his life. On the morning of his departure, his sickness consisting chiefly in the debility of old age, he came to breakfast with his family, and having eaten an egg he desired his daughter to bring him another. Instantly, however, assuming an air of deep meditation, he said, "Hold, daughter, my Master calls me!" and having asked for the family Bible, and finding that his sight was gone, he said, "Cast up to me the eighth chapter of the epistle to the Romans, and place my finger on these words, I am persuaded that neither death nor life shall be able to separate me from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."""Now," he said, "is my finger upon them?" and being told it was, he added, "Then God be with you, my children; I have breakfasted with you, and shall sup with my Lord Jesus Christ this night!" And so saying, the good man expired. The Memoirs of Mr Robert Blair, who was first settled at Bangor in Ireland, and latterly at St Andrews, exhibit the history of a mind deeply exercised about eternal things, and may be regarded as a fair specimen of the warm and manly piety, chastened by knowledge, and rendered firm and consistent by the admixture of public principle, which distinguished many in these times. The most singular feature in the religious history of these good men, was their wonderful success in obtaining answers to their prayers for temporal favours. I will introduce one or two instances of this with an observation made by Mr Blair, after recounting an extraordinary incident in his own life: "If any who may read these things shall be offended, seeing revelations have now ceased, and that we are to keep close to the will of God revealed in the Scriptures; I answer for their satisfaction, that if any creature, be he angel or man, add any thing to that perfect rule of faith and manners, or reveal any thing contrary thereto, let him be accursed. This we leave to Papists and sectaries. But, in the meantime, it ought not to be denied, that the Lord is pleased sometimes to reveal to his servants, especially in a suffering condition, some events concerning themselves, and that part of the Church of God in which they live." There is much included in these words, especially in a suffering condition." We know not what it is to suffer for Christ, and therefore know not "the consolations of Christ," which abound under these sufferings; daily bread is all we can expect for daily work; and it is only when the Master sees his servants sick and exhausted, and ready to perish in his service, that he brings forth his cordials to recruit their spirits. Mr Patrick Simpson was first ordained minister of Cramond, but was afterwards transported to Stirling, where he continued till his death. He was a very learned man, and being blamed by one of his friends for wasting so much time in the study of Pagan writers, he replied that his purpose was "to adorn the house of God with these Egyptian jewels." His wife, who was a woman of singular piety, fell sick, and, under her indisposition, was assailed by the most fearful temptations, supposing herself to be delivered up unto Satan. Being in one of those fits of despair, one Sabbath morning, when Mr Simpson was going out to preach, he was exceedingly distressed, and went to prayer. After he had done, he turned to the company present, and assured them that they who had been witnesses to that sad hour, should yet see the adversary of her soul meet with a shameful defeat. Her distraction continued till the Tuesday morning preceding her death, when on coming from his retirement, he said to the attendants," be of good comfort, for I am sure that ere ten o'clock of the day, that brand shall be plucked out of the fire." He then prayed at her bed-side, and upon his mentioning Jacob wrestling with God, she sat up in the bed, drew the curtains aside, and said, "Thou art this day a Jacob, who hast wrestled and prevailed; and now God has made good his word which he spake this morning to you, for I am plucked out of the hands of Satan, and he shall have no power over me." Shortly after this, she expired, uttering only the language of comfort, hope, and joy. The next instance partakes almost of the nature of romance. Andrew Duncan, minister of Crail in Fife, was distinguished by his sufferings in defence of the Presbyterian polity. After suffering imprisonment in Blackness, he was banished the kingdom, and went to settle in Berwick; but having several children, and his wife being far gone in pregnancy, they were reduced to great hardships, being obliged to part with their servant, and having scarcely subsistence sufficient for themselves. One night, in particular, the children asking for bread, and there being none to give them, they cried very sore, and their mother likewise was much depressed. The poor exiled minister occupied himself alternately in praying to God, in pacifying his children, and comforting his wife. He exhorted her to wait patiently on God, who was now trying them, but would undoubtedly provide for them, though he should rain down bread from heaven. This confidence was the more remarkable as they had neither friend nor acquaintance in that place to whom they could make their case known. And yet, before morning, a man brought them a sackful of provision, and went off without telling them from whence it came, though entreated to do so. Shortly after this, during the night, when the good man knew not where to apply for aid to his wife, a lady came riding to the door, and having sent her servant back with the horse, to return for her at a certain time, requested permission to act the part of servant and nurse, continued to do so till her services were no longer required, and on her departure presented the astonished and grateful couple with a box containing linen, cordials, and money, but notwithstanding all their entreaties, would neither tell who she was nor from whence she came. This practice of banishing ministers from one part of the country to another, must, particularly in those cases where they had large families, have been very grievous and oppressive; yet they seem to have endured it with great cheerfulness. One of them, Mr George Dunbar, minister of Ayr, who had a number of young children, was twice thrust out by the bishops. At that time there were no such things as coaches or carriages in the country; and it may amuse the younger part of my readers to learn that the children on these occasions had to be transported in creels placed on horseback. When the bishop's messenger came the second time to Mr Dunbar's house to turn them out, one of his little daughters, who had no doubt suffered by the former transportation, cried out to the man, "What! and is Pharaoh's heart hardened still?" All that her father said however, on hearing the summons, was, "Well, goodwife, ye must e'en bring out the creels again." This reminds me of a similar story which is told of Mr Blacader's children, when they were transported in the same way from their father's house, in the persecution after the restoration. who were children," says one of them who told the story afterwards, " were put into cadger's creels, and one of us, coming through the bridge-end of Dumfries, looking out of the creel, cried out, "I'm banish't, I'm banish't!" One happening to ask, "Who has banished ye, my bairn?" he answered, "Bite-the-sheep has banish't me."* "We Some are apt to imagine that all the ministers of Memoirs of Rev. John Blacader. p. 107. a certain period and persuasion were possessed of the same natural dispositions; a sort of family likeness;—and sourness of temper has been supposed to have been the characteristic trait of Presbyterians. A minuter acquaintance with them would correct such an idea; for we meet with all different sorts of temperament among them, some melancholy, others lively and facetious, some rude, and others gentle and amiable. In short, they resembled each other only in their piety and fidelity. Robert Boyd of Trochrig, was a man of profound learning, sagacity, and integrity, and had he not been pestered by the bishops, who drove him about from one place to another, he might have proved an ornament to his native country. He was successively Principal of Glasgow and Edinburgh Universities, and minister of Paisley, but in none of these situations was he allowed to remain in peace, and from the last place, to the disgrace of Paisley, he was driven by a rascally mob with stones and dirt, so that he retired in disgust to his property of Trochrig. He was a man of grave and severe character, but he tells us that his brother, whose untimely loss he deplored, was constantly laughing and joking. John Scrimgeour, minister of Kinghorn, who stood boldly out against Episcopacy, was, as Livingstone tells us, "a man rude-like in his clothing, in his behaviour, and some of his expressions, but of a tender loving heart." Though a great scholar, he used to say, he wished that all books were burnt but the Bible and a few notes upon it. His temper was so irritable, that like Jonah, he could not even restrain himself from expressing his displeasure before God. A favourite daughter being supposed near death, he used in secret prayer the following extraordinary language: "Thou knowest, O Lord, I have been serving thee in the uprightness of my heart according to my measure, and thou seest that I take pleasure in this child, and cannot I obtain such a thing as this at thy hand ?" with other expressions of a similar nature, which, as he afterwards said, though the prayer was granted, he "would not utter again for all the world." On his death-bed, his body was racked by a very painful disorder; and in the intervals of one of the attacks, he said to Mr Livingstone, John, I have been a rude stunkard man all my days, and now by this pain the Lord is dantoning (subduing) me, to make me as a lamb, before he take me home to himself." How different a character from this, though essentially like, was Robert Cunningham, minister of Holywood in Ireland! "He was," says the same writer, "the one man, to my discerning, of all that ever I saw, that resembled most the meekness of Jesus Christ in his whole carriage; and was so far reverenced by all, even the most wicked, that he was often troubled with that Scripture, Wo to you when all men speak well of you." The sweetness of his disposition endeared him so much to his brethren that they could not endure to hear of any one touching him; and Mr Blair, on hearing that the Bishop of Down intended to depose him, went and told him, "Sir, you may do to me and some others as you please, but if ever you meddle with Mr Cunningham, your cup will be full." The death-bed scene of this amiable man corresponded with this view of his character. Having been put out of his charge in Ireland, he came over to his native country, but never held up his head again. "The bishop," he said, "has taken away my ministry from me, and I may say my life also, for my ministry is dearer to me than my life." During his sickness, he was heard to say, "I see Christ standing over Death's head, and saying, Deal warily with my servant; loose now this pin, now that, for this tabernacle must be set up again." A little before his departure, March 1637, his wife sitting by his bed-side, with her hand clasped in his, he commended to God his congregation, his brethren in the ministry, and his children, and concluded by saying, "And last, O Lord, I recommend to thee this gentlewoman, who is no more my wife!" And thus saying, he softly disengaged his hand, and gently thrust her hand a little away from him. At this affecting farewell she burst into tears, and in the act of attempting to allay her grief, he fell asleep in Jesus. THE PALM-TREE. THY lofty shade is o'er the lonely streams And still thy graceful leaves are gently stirred By the soft breeze beside the laughing waters As when at eve the voice of song was heard, And 'neath thee passed light steps of Israel's daughters. Thy stately form still towers in Lebanon Still waves on Sinai's steep and frowning side, A "mount of snow" upon the sacred hill; And on his cheek there plays, as day declines, The cool breeze wandering from Siloa's rill. ANDREW R. BONAR. THE PARABLE OF THE TWO SONS: A DISCOURSE. PART I. BY THE REV. JAMES LEWIS, Minister of St. John's Parish, Leith "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 afterward he repented, and went.' MATT. xxi. 28, 29. WHEN standing in the temple and conversing with the chief priests and elders of the people our Lord spake this parable,-the simplest in as a its incidents, and the most obvious in its application, of all the parables of the New Testament. Sometimes we find our Lord concealing his meaning under the veil of parables, and using their symbolic and figurative structure cloud in which, for a time, he may wrap up the mysteries of his kingdom. In the parable of the two sons he shows his meaning, as he often showed his person, openly to the people. He chooses his similitude, not to disguise and partially conceal the truth, or to occasion even a moment's hesitancy as to its application, but to clothe it as in a garment of light, to exhibit it as in a transparency, and mould it into the most perfect form for warning, instruction, and pointed rebuke. They The occasion on which it was spoken required this plainness and directness of speech, the parties to whom it was addressed having, in this same conversation with our Lord, escaped the charge of rejecting John the Baptist's ministry by a disingenuous profession of ignorance. In the course of this conversation, Christ had put the question to the chief priests and elders, "The baptism of John, whence was it? was it from heaven or of men ?" But they were too wily and well taught in the wisdom of the world to answer it. saw their dilemma, and perceived that, if they answered at all, they should be tossed into a sea of trouble, that, by the denial of John's ministry, they should lay themselves open to the dissatisfaction of the people, and risk the loss of their favour," for all held John as a prophet," whilst, by acknowledging its divine authority, they should expose themselves to the grievous imputation of resisting the prophet of the Most High, and furnish an adversary whom they hated, with a weapon which could be wielded for their humiliation, and with a charge of inconsistency against them which could not be repelled. They therefore betook themselves to silence for shelter, and evaded a direct reply by a false profession of ignorance: "And they answered Jesus, and said, We cannot tell." To prevent the possibility of further evasion, our Lord so frames his subsequent conversation as that their replies to his questions shall necessarily rebuke themselves, and involve them unawares in self-accusations. He pursues the plan followed by Nathan, when, standing before the backsliding king of Israel, he told the touching story of the poor man and his single ewe lamb, and surprised the king into a verdict, ere he was aware that he had sat in judgment, tried, and passed sentence upon himself. It was a point of such obvious decision,-a question the very simplest in morals, "Which of the two sons did the will of his father?" that no opening was left for the former answer, "We cannot tell." The shield of a convenient and feigned ignorance could no longer be interposed between them and the rebuke of our Lord. From the very nature of the question, they were shut up to the reply which our Lord anticipated, and from which he was to draw, themselves being judges, his just and severe reproofs. "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 afterwards, that ye might believe him." But the parable is not limited in its application to the parties to whom it was originally addressed. While spoken for an occasion, and springing out of a present local necessity, it is yet fitted for the instruction of the world; and if the Holy Spirit apply it to the heart of the reader, not a few will perceive that, while spoken to the chief priests and elders, they were not overlooked, and that their characters and treatment of the Gospel were present to the eye of the Son of God when he sat in the temple and sketched the characters of the two sons. The parable divides itself into two distinct heads of inquiry. First, The message: and, secondly, The reception which the parties addressed respectively gave to it. demnation, and aggravate past sins by new disobedience. "When He, the Spirit of truth, is come, He will convince the world of sin, because they believe not on me.” Neither is obedience to the Gospel message suspended upon the sinner's decision of its reasonableness or unreasonableness. As it is not sent to him in the form of an invitation, neither is it sent to him in the form of a question for discussion and subsequent determination. God does not ask our opinion of his plan of redeeming love. His peremptory order, "Go work in the vineyard," excludes our claim to sit in judgment upon his command,—a command which he offers, not for our discussion, but for our implicit obedience, and which constitutes it awful guilt to be found any where save in the vineyard, and employed in his work. His message to us is not Will you go?" leaving to us the determination of the reasonableness of the request. Its reasonableness he has already determined. Himself be has constituted the judge of his message, and therefore, with an authority that is not to be questioned, and which demands an implicit submission, he says, "Go work in my vineyard." 66 But the message is not only peremptory, it is urgent, demanding instant obedience. It is a call, not only to work in the vineyard, but to work now,-to proceed on the very monent of the reception of the message and fulfil its command. It does not stop short with "Go work in my vineyard;" for that message might have been misinterpreted into a call to go at any time,-to go now, or to-morrow, or next day, or a year, or many years hence, or when approaching death was unloosing the frame of this earthly tabernacle, and the shock of disease, or the tottering step of feeble age reminding us that our tie to earth was speedily to be severed, and our spirits sent adrift into an unknown and unprepared-for eternity. The message guards against this false interpretation, by which its authority would be utterly annulled, and its command rendered of none effect, by an obedience always promised, yet always postponed. To the command, "Go work I. The message, it will be observed, is a command. It is not delivered in the form of an invitation, which might have implied that accept ance was not imperative, and that the sons were free to choose or to refuse the work assigned by their father. Neither is it delivered in the form of a question, "Will you go to the vineyard?" which might have induced the suspicion that the father's claim to the labour of his sons was a doubtful one, and that he had assumed the humble language of request, in absence of a title to unqualified submission and a right to obedience. His message is a clear, unequivocal authoritative command. It is not even prefaced or followed by a single reason why the sons should undertake this labour. The father enters into no account of his command; he claims obedience simply on the ground of his authority; and with the brevity, and in the prompt, decisive tone of a royal mandate, issues his order, "Go work in my vine-in my vineyard," it therefore superadds the call yard." to prompt and immediate obedience, "Go work to-day in my vineyard." Thus the divine message is sent to us in the Word and ministry of the Gospel. The Gospel message is not simply an invitation, which the sinner may refuse or accept at his pleasure. The attitude in which God stands, as he delivers it, is not that of a suppliant beseeching the sinner's acceptance of it. He stands before him as his rightful owner, and when he claims his service in the vineyard, he asks his own. Whilst the Gospel message has the grace and tenderness of an invitation, it has the authority and imperativeness of an order. God commands men every where to believe on the rame of the only begotten Son of God; and if the pect the command, they not only turn from is a gracious invitation, and refuse a cor e to be partakers of the grace of Gort, incur a heavier con The Bible speaks to man in its messages of grace, and in its calls to duty, as if all time were wrapped up in the present moment, as if, upon the instant the message was delivered, the angel, spoken of in the Revelations, should stand with one foot on earth and one on the sea, and proclaim that time was no more,-as if henceforth the mystery of God were finished, and the day ushered in of the unchangeable and irreversible doom of all spirits. In direct and palpable opposition to man's dependence on to-morrow, and to his calculations on the future, God speaks only of the present. He knows no time as belonging to the sinner but time present. He views all his opportunities as collected and gathered into the moment when he addresses him, and if that mo .ment passes II. Let us consider the reception of the message. By the first son it is met with a direct, unceremonious, flat refusal. Without excuse or apology; without the seeming conviction that he is guilty either of rudeness or disobedience; without an attempt to soften or conceal the harsh and revolting features of filial ingratitude, he replies, "I will not!" He does not pause to consider even the authority that delivers the message. His own will has become to him his sovereign law, and before its habitual, uncontrolled ascendancy, all sense of obligation has been swept away. To the class of characters represented by this first son our Lord himself has directed us. The profligate and immoral, the professed lovers of pleasure, the avowedly infidel and unbelieving, the despisers and wonderers, the boasters, and inventors of evil things, who sin without restraint, and glory in their shame, have their representative in this first son. The reasonableness, the justness, yea, the compassion and infinite love with which the Gospel message is fraught, arrest not for a moment their thoughts. They acknowledge neither the authority that commands, nor are touched with the love in which the command originates. They are neither overawed by the majesty of legitimate power, nor melted by the tenderness of unmerited compassion. The throne of God stands before them stripped of its authority, the throne of judgment of its terrors, the cross of its love, heaven of its glory, hell of its horrors. Their self-will, or rather the wayward, headstrong, impetuous passions by which it is turned about as by a helm, is their only law, and whether commanded by the authority of their Father in heaven, or besought by the compassion of a Saviour willing to save, or warned by his ambassadors persuading them by the terrors of the Lord, they think it enough to reply, without even the grace of an excuse, or a proffered rea4 son for disobedience, "We will not." But the likeness is not limited to that numerons class who make "no profession." In many of the hearers of the Gospel we discover the likeness of this first son. We behold it in the young man whom a Christian education or parental guardianship has trained to attendance upon the house of God, yet whose taste is formed and moulded after the fashion of the world, whose companions, on the one side, have allured him into the deceitful paths of sensual pleasure, and whose graver councillors, on the other, have seduced him into the no less deceitful walk of worldly ambition, before whom life's business appears to be the enjoyment of pleasure or the realization of a fortune, the reaping of vain follies, or the sowing of ambitious cares. Let the Gospel call be addressed to him,-Go, young man, and learn the grand business of life, and begin to discharge it; cast aside thy youthful follies, subdue and mortify thy youthful passions, dismiss thy seducing companionship, deny thyself to earthly vanities, cease from thy laborious idleness in catching the glittering but unsubstantial toys of the world; learn what thou art, an imperishable but lost soul, fallen from glory, yet great in thy ruin because immortal. Go, humble thyself at the footstool of thine offended God, beseech his mercy, deprecate his wrath, pray for his Spirit, pour out thy supplications with strong crying and tears, receive his offered grace, accept of his great salvation, and henceforth with thy soul, body, and spirit, serve Him who has redeemed thee and bought thee with his own precious blood; go, work to-day in the vineyard. And what is his reply to the message? Whilst you are yet speaking, the determined purpose is reflected in his countenance, the stubborn fixed resolution is rising to his lips, and ere you have concluded your message, he is ready to meet it with "I will not." But the likeness of this first son is not confined to giddy and self-willed youth, at the season when new-blown pleasures fascinate, and the world is first known. It is seen often in that most touching and affecting of all moral spectacles, in the person of a man who, by the long-suffering patience of God, has passed into mature years, or is beginning to decline into old age, whose experience has often taught him, by his companions dropping by his side, how transient is this earthly scene, yet who is toiling, and disquieting, and vexing himself with its cares, devoting himself to its business as if it were his God, who finds his sole pleasure when occupied amidst its calculations, when surveying its prospects, or estimating its gains; whose increasing years bave only ripened his heart's love of the world, and given to the earth a more uncontrolled and unquestioned dominion over his spirit. Deliver to that man the message of the Gospel. Stand before him as Moses stood before Pharaoh with the demand,-Let your affections, which have been the slaves of the world, go, that they may sacrifice unto the Lord your God; or with the message of Paul, "Set your affections on things above, and not upon the things of this earth.: |