ure. He knocks. He waits. Was it some darling of the earth that was to come, you would not let him wait. He would not have to knock. Before his feet had reached your door, while he was yet a great way off, your quick ear would detect his step, your prompt limbs would anticipate his coming, your glad voice would go out to meet him with a welcome. And it must be so with Jesus. You must hear His voice, for all the stir of earth. You must come to Him, whatever be the urgency of business or the importunity of pleasYou must be moved by His patient waiting for your heart. You must listen to His gracious calling for you, as He stands and knocks. You must hear it above the voices of the world, the whisperings of nature, the pulses of your heart. You must go down to Him, and open the door to Him, and make Him welcome: or He never will come in. He made the heart. At the sad instant of its ruin He was present, with the purpose of redemption. He redeemed His purpose on the Cross. While yet the morning was but gray, He had come down from heaven, and was standing at its door, and knocked. And yet, it must be opened to Him: or He comes, in vain. It is a free heart. It is your heart. He asks for it. He waits on it. He knocks at it. But He does not take it, but as your free gift. My son, give me thy heart! My son, give me thy heart! And you must give it to Him; or it cannot be His. You must give it to Him; or it must be Satan's. You must give it to Him; or it is for ever lost. If not, in vain His Incarnation. If not, in And on vain His agony. If not, in vain His death. If not, He comes, He waits, He knocks in vain. those two sad words eternity must turn. And all the echoes of that sad eternity will but repeat, while the slow pendulum swings solemnly for ever, those hopeless words—in vain, in vain! "Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and sup with him." There is nothing upon earth, that brings such pleasure to a poor house, as to receive an honourable guest. It is among the beautiful com pensations which equalize the levels of our life. With what a generous pride it swells the heart! With what a genial glow it overspreads the countenance! What ingenuity it quickens! What alacrity it animates! How the best of every thing is brought, and how much better for the cordial welcome that attends it. To the rich, it is a thing of every day. But when the poor man's hearth is lighted, and the poor man's board is spread, the house keeps holiday; and the whole heart is in the feast. It is to this natural instinct that the sacred text appeals. "If any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and sup with him." Into our poor homes, the Lord of heaven and earth, at our mere opening, will come. He will sit down by our hearths. He will sup with us at our board. He will be at home with us in our poverty, and condescend to be familiar with our wretchedness. He will draw us with the cords of a man, and stoop to us, that He may raise us to Himself. For, so, this blessed Scripture reads. "Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and "And he with me;" heaven. The loving soul that listens for the Lord, and hears him when He comes, and rises at His knock, and comes to Him, and opens for Him, and receives Him for his guest, is to be His for evermore in heaven; and sit down at the Marriage Supper of the Lamb. His merit, purchased for him; his fitness furnished; the feast provided; the welcome more than offered. His, only this, that when the Saviour called, he heard; and when he came, he rose to meet Him; and when He knocked, he opened. "If thou wilt open the door, e'en now His pledge to thee is given; And thou with Me in Heaven." To-day, beloved ones, the gracious Saviour knocks once more, at every heart of all who hear these words. To-day, He specially invites whoever will be His, to rise and come to Him. How long He has been waiting at our door! How often He has knocked, and knocked in vain! What if this coming be His last? What if He never knock again! What if the next bell be the knell that tolls you to the grave? What if He knock next, at the door of other hearts, when the earth rumbles on your coffin-lid? "In the hour of death, and in the day of judgment, Good Lord, deliver us!" SERMON XV. THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. ST. LUKE VII. 31, 32.-And the Lord said, Whereunto, then, shall I liken the men of this generation? And to what are they like? They are like unto children, sitting in the market-place, and calling one to another, and saying; We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned to you, and ye have not wept. He How faithfully, how patiently, how lovingly, the blessed Saviour laboured with the people of His day, to turn their hearts to God! Was there an effort, which, He did not make? Was there a penalty, which, He did not pay? Was there an ingenuity of love, which, He did not exert ? He became one of them. He went in and out among them. He sympathized with them. He ministered to them. taught them. He fed them. He wept, with them. He rejoiced, with them. He blessed their children. He healed their sick. He raised their dead. He had done all but die for them; and that He was to do. And, yet, their treatment of Him, He could only liken to the wilfulness of wayward children, when they tease and fret each other, in their plays: "We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned have not wept." to you, and ye That Blessed One has done, long since, the work, which, He was sent to do: died for us, as He lived with us; risen from the grave, and ascended into heav. en, to be the Intercessor for the souls, for which He died. Yet, true to the very letter, the expostulation of the text is, now, as it has always been. The Holy Spirit has been poured out, from on high. The word of God has been completed, and promulgated, and perpetuated. The Church has been established, and extended; the preacher of the Cross, the ground and pillar of the truth, the minister of grace to all who will receive it; and still she has to say, to the great mass of men, who hear her voice, as Jesus did before: "We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced; we have mourned to have not wept." and you, ye My beloved, is it not the same with you? Year after year, has not the Spirit pleaded here? Year after year, has not the Lord been visibly crucified before you? Year after year, has not the Church renewed to you her blessed ministrations: gathering you here, day after day, to pour your heart out in her prayers; dividing to you, week after week, the bread of life; nursing your children at her bosom; inviting you to joyous feasts; appointing, for your spiritual discipline, solemn fasts; filling the font with water for your fants or yourselves; offering to all, who have repented, and been baptized, the gift of the Holy Ghost; spreading the banquet of the Saviour's love, to be the food of your immortal souls? And yet, to how many of you, must she still apply the Saviour's mournful words: in |