they were? Are we more willing lightly to excuse ourselves from the discharge of duties which we once performed with a conscientious alacrity which nothing could disturb? Have we rogressed or receded in the divine life? O, if any of us have gone back, and failed to keep our first estate, let the warning voice of this dawning year-perhaps our last on earth-recall us, and kindle in us fresh resolves to dedicate our lives to God. And if past chances have been misapplied by any of us, let us each, as we assemble together here to-day and gratefully recall the memories of all our many mercies, send forth from our hearts a song of praise to God for His forbearance, and lay it on His altar as an earnest of amendment for the future, and in deprecation of the ingratitude of the past.

(3) But He aggravates His complaint, once more, by the assertion that the barren fig-tree not only bears no fruit, and that it has disappointed His expectations for several seasons, but that its fruitlessness was mischievous to the rest of the trees in the vineyard.

Society is linked together by strange and mysterious ties. It is impossible that one member can be slothful and supine, without depressing the whole community to which he belongs. And it is almost impossible that we can sin alone. If we did but clearly realise the terrible power of example, it could not fail to make some of us more guarded than we are. And while this thought should restrain the careless in their sins, for the sake of others, it should lead the young pilgrim who is just setting out along the way of life to be careful how he mixes with those whose example is evil and delusive. These are plain lessons-but they are no less important for that-and though metaphysical and speculative moralists may despise them, we must try and bear up beneath the terrible burden of their contempt, and console ourselves with the reflection that there are some to whom they may be useful, and none to whom they can be injurious. Then in all earnestness, and in all plainness, let me turn to those who are indifferent to the things of religion, and beseech them, if not for their own sakes, at least for the sake of others, to reflect on the responsibility of bringing down their brother's blood upon

their heads. We ARE our brothers' keepers to an extent we cannot measure, and we cannot run upon the broad road to destruction without dragging others along with us. It is for this-because we cannot wither and die alone, but must blast with our corrupting influence the surrounding verdure-that the Master of the vineyard will press the more grievously by the demand-"Cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground."

But we have now to consider to whom it is that the Master makes these complaints. It is to the dresser of the vineyardto one who has taken special interest in the nourishment of the plantation; to one who has gone in and out amongst the treesand who knows them well and all that injures or promotes their growth. It is to Christ who has procured for us the adoption of sons who has prepared the way for our being planted in the vineyard, and who supplies us with the nourishment which alone can make us "bring forth fruit meet for repentance;" it is to Jesus who stands ready to sprinkle us all with His own precious blood, by faith in which alone we can put forth clusters of immortal fruit-whose finished righteousness bedecks our boughs with acceptable offerings to the Lord. It is to our ImmanuelGod with us with us to bear our burdens-with us to help our infirmities, with us to share our griefs, with us to carry our sorrows:-for us to suffer persecution, for us to taste death, for us to repel the tempter, and for us to pave the way to glory, honour, and immortality, and eternal life.

And how does He receive the complaint? He does not deny its justice. He does not insinuate that the demand to cut down the unfruitful tree is a harsh or stern demand. He does not even ask that it should be spared. But still He intercedes, He prays for a reprieve, He asks a little further respite, and promises to make it His peculiar care. He says, as it were, to God, "Thine anger is righteous, and thy demand is just-but keep back thy wrath yet another year, or if it must fall, let it fall on me, I will atone for past unfruitfulness, and make a way whereby future fruit may be acceptable to Thee. Withhold thy just and holy indignation, till I have made a way of escape from sin, and left the impenitent without excuse!"

Now, my fellow-sinner, think of this: Christ only asks for a respite for you; and if you don't bring forth the fruits of life, you will bring forth those of death; and if you don't treasure up holiness through Christ, you will be treasuring up wrath against the day of wrath. You will accumulate about you the hottest thunderbolts of Almighty vengeance. And in proportion to the mercy you have despised, the forbearance you have abused, the invitations you have rejected, so shall you receive the greater damnation. This is surely worth a thought as the seasons go and come. 'Spare it yet another year," says Christ. Who knows for how many of us He is putting up that plea for the year that is to come. O, my fellow-sinner, it may be for you that this prayer is offered, and that you have but one more year for repentance. There is not a child here too young to die. There is not a child who will not find many graves in every churchyard still shorter than its stature. For you, then, thou rash and careless youth dancing so buoyantly around the sulphurous crater of the yawning pit; for you, who are in the prime and pride of life, yet lavishing it all in the worship of the golden calf; for you, thou grey and hoary reprobate, who, but for sovereign mercy and atoning love, wouldst have been cut down when first your vile example cumbered the vineyard of the Lord; for you, thou sentimental moralist who hast built upon the sands of ignorance and folly the throne of a system and a God of your own creation;-for you the Saviour pleads for yet another year of trial. He promises to watch over you yet a little longer, to call to you yet once more,-to hold His bleeding hands before you once again,-to weep for you for yet another space. Now, then, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by me, I pray you in Christ's stead be ye reconciled to God,-now while yet He intercedeswhile yet He manifests Himself to you, Behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world." And you who have some interest in these great themes, whenever you pray for yourselves, remember the careless at the mercy-seat. wrestle with God for a reprieve; but it is Christ's blood only which can pardon. Let us, then, all twine the tendrils of our

We can

faith about the cross of the great Redeemer, and seek to derive from Him the fruits of a perfect righteousness. There are some who seem to think that taking up the cross means laying down all life's pleasures, that enjoyment and religion cannot go together. It shows they have never tried it. If there be any such here now, suffer me to say that however great their present enjoyments, they will be immeasurably enhanced if pursued in the sunshine of God's favour and complacency. This is not cant it is only a plain fact; and none who have faithfully put it to the test, have ever felt disposed to contradict it. Will you try it, my dying brother youth? Begin this very year. Put forth your early blossoms with the snowdrops. Never mind the laughter of your companions: that can't hurt you. Never mind the pitying sneers of your philosophic friends, who, while professing to patronise religion, yet fancy they have a sort of ticket-of-leave to wander from the common crowd who herd around the cross, to sun themselves beneath their own selflove, and bask amid the rushlights of their own illuminations. Never mind the contempt of those who do not love the truth, but turn from the deriding mob and look upwards-look at the Spirit's pointing finger showing you the Man of Sorrows as He groans under the burden of your sins, and think that every scornful word these friends of yours, or you yourself have uttered, is a thorn in that cruel wreath He bears upon His brow-that every sin you perpetrate draws a life-drop from His bleeding heart-that every drivelling lie that wiseacres urge against this true and living gospel is a nail in the Redeemer's hand. Think of this one stupendous thought-that Jesus died for you, and only waits for you to come to Him-to take away all your sins. He is interceding now, at this very moment, for you and me; perhaps just holding back the hand that would cut us down as cumberers of the ground. But He will not always intercede. He puts in His plea for a reprieve, and leaves the matter with a plain provision for each contingency. "If it bear fruit, well; if not, thou shalt cut it down." He is pleading with the Majesty of Heaven and of earth now. He is whispering of Calvary and Gethsemane now. He is shewing His crimson

wounds and mangled brow now; but He will not always interpose. He says He will not oppose the righteous sentence if the sinner will not turn, but He begs for him one more chance. Now, my friends, this is the last chance (this coming year) many of us shall have-we shall not all meet again this time next year-many of us shall have glided to the bourne from which no traveller returns; yes, many of the youngest, and perhaps the strongest of us. Well, then, don't delay, time is fleeting, our brothers and our sisters have gone before us in the past, and join their voices with that of the revolving seasons in urging us to prepare to follow. Listen then while the invitation may be heard-give ear while wisdom cries and understanding lifts up her voice, hearken while yet Jesus is pleading for you. O do not spurn the mercy, for if you do, the doom you meet will be proportionate to the pity you have despised; you will not have one friend to bestow a sigh of sympathy at the sentence you will receive-or to cast a single glance of pity after you as you glide into the blackness of darkness for ever. Your best of friends will spurn you. Can you bear to think, my brother, of seeing at the great day of account, father, mother, sister, all standing at the right hand of the Judge while you deliberately choose His left? Can you endure to think of those loved voices with which you have joined in singing songs on earth, singing with seraphs round the throne of God, while you are wailing amidst evil spirits in the outer darkness? Is such a doom your dispassionate choice? Are you determined to go on fighting against God?

"WILT thou attempt eternal fate
Urged on by sin's fantastic dreams
Madly attempt the infernal gate

It can't be. clinging. O would your frozen heart?

And force thy passage to the flames?"

There must be some delusion to which you are to God some poor word of mine could touch Tell me what to say, and it shall be said. Just think of this. The very doom we dread will be pronounced upon us by the Friend who died to save us from it. Then He