XVIII.

The Parables of our Lord.

The parables of our Lord, as the Evangelists have preserved and transmitted them to us, are in number about thirty. Jesus often taught and illustrated his doctrine by similitudes, but the finished narratives are of the number which we have above designated. It is difficult to fix the times at which all were delivered; and it is not impossible that some of them were repeated, as the different Evangelists record them in different connexions. Among the first spoken was the Parable of the Sower, as is evident from certain intrinsic marks; and on the same. day were delivered four others. That this parable was the very first in order, cannot however be clearly determined; nor is the establishment of the priority of either essential. All are apposite-all were suggested by surrounding objects, or drew their illustration and application from them.

During the second year of our Lord's ministry, he went out of the house and sat by the sea-side. Great multitudes. were gathered to him, for his appearance was now the signal for a collection of people, anxious to hear, though from motives as various as their classes-almost as

various as the individuals. Many came from curiosity-others from ambition, and others desiring to entangle him in his talk, that they might report him to the ever-watchful and malicious, the self-righteous and envious Pharisees and rulers. His disciples inquired why he spake in parables, and in his answer he referred to the peculiarity of a portion of his hearers. He who commanded his disciples to be wise as serpents and harmless as doves, did not disdain to protect himself by speaking in a mode intelligible to the faithful and true inquirer, but perplexing and foiling those who desired only to find something which they could wrest into a charge against the speaker. There were others who, in a faithful and good heart, received the word. To these it was given to understand the mysteries of the kingdom of God.

As the multitude gathered, Jesus entered into a ship, and sat on the sea, and the whole multitude was by the sea, on the land. And he taught them by parables. In the present instance, upon some of the now sterile, but then highly cultivated hills which surrounded the Sea of Galilee, no doubt he saw a sower going forth to sow. Or perchance among the crowd who so pressed upon him that he retreated to the ship, from thence to address them, there were many husbandmen. He seized a theme familiar to his hearers." "Behold a sower went forth to sow." The attention of his immense auditory was secured. He had commenced a narrative-a form of instruction always popular and particularly so in the East, where to the present day it is practised and admired. The listening

crowds, in hundreds above hundreds, upon the rising shore, dwelt upon his words, and the record of that day's teaching has descended to us by three of the Evangelists. Indeed we have received more than was vouchsafed to any of the immediate listeners, save the apostles; for the Saviour's explanation of the parable to his disciples, has been given to us by inspiration. The parable, like the other teachings of the Son of God, is as pertinent to us as to those who first heard it; and the reasons for speech in parables are as many. Now, as Jesus declared there were then, there are those whose heart is waxed gross, and who hearing hear, and do not understand, and who seeing see, but will not perceive. There are the same temptations man is the same blind, erring creature. He has the same instructor, for the Sower is the Son of Man. Exalted to the right hand of God, the work commenced by him on earth, is continued by those who, under his warrant, and by the motion of the Holy Spirit, have devoted themselves to the labour of the Lord's vineyard. Their field is the world. Their duty is to sow in all places; but while they appear to be the actors, it is God who giveth the increase. The Great Sower is present still, with those who do his work, for he declared, "Lo I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world."

The Parable of the Sower divides all hearers, and through the word and works of God, all men are included into four classes. At the desire of his disciples, Jesus explained the Parable of the Sower; and his explanation is a rebuke to those who refine in expounding

other parables, and multiply words without knowledge. It is simple, clear, and obvious, to all save those who are resolved not to understand. Certain of the seed, it is said, fell by the way-side, which the fowls of the air came and devoured. The Saviour says that Satan cometh immediately. We shall have a livelier idea of the vividness of the image, if we picture to our minds the exuberance of breathing nature in Eastern climes. Earth, air and water, seem instinct with life. At every step, on the ground beneath, and in the air around is met some living thing. The fowls of the air follow the sower, and devour up the seed which the earth may fail to conceal and to protect. Satan cometh immediately. No commencement even of germination takes place. The seed is scarcely received. The hard pathway, the stubborn heart, gives it no shelter. It lies for an instant on the surface, inviting depredation— is caught up-forgotten, and the faithless and the fruitless earth remains blank aud unproductive-unproductive except in foul weeds, which do not fail to flourish abundantly, where the word of God is not received and does not take root. The thoughts of this world, its lusts, desires, vanities, passions, make up the mischievous flock which snatch the seed from the hearers' hearts. The clamor of their presence intercepts our upward aspirations, and diverts our thoughts. Here flits, in gaudy plumage, the vanity of this world, its tinsel ornaments glancing in the light of our bewildered eyes, and its gaudy pretensions blinding us to the beauty of holiness. There moves across our vision the vulture-like image of envy and covetousness.

In our thoughts and wishes we direct his flight, as he poises himself now over one, now over another, of those whom we are commanded to love, but whom we choose, instead, to look upon with malice, or with a longing desire for their possessions, or with dissatisfaction at their happiness. And there again, an active, and perchance more mischievous sprite than any other, glances and flutters, now here, now there-restless, changing, and apparently aimless-the shifting emblem of frivolity, flitting from object to object, intent, it would seem, on nothing, except it be the avoidance of every thing like good, and of every semblance of stability. There is the owl-like emblem of earthly wisdom, affecting to be wise above what is written, but as hollow as assuming, fit representative of what is declared to be foolishness with God. And hark to the raven-croak of detraction, the voice of that fowl of the air which feeds on corruption, and delights in rottenness. Now he breathes hatred against one, and now another feels his withering breath. In beauty he seeks only blemishes, in holiness he hunts for frailty: and as Satan's legions did in the days of our Lord on earth, when they sought how they might entangle him in his speech, so do those now, from whose hearts the ravens pluck out and devour up the seed, and plant instead, a captious spirit of fault finding. They see in the preached word, not the power of God unto salvation, but a human performance with which it is their province to find fault, and at which they delight in taking exception.

Next in order, the seed which is sown on stony ground.