-that which has been called and not unfitly, "the crown and pearl of all our Lord's parables."

In considering this parable, there are three things I would keep in mind.

I. The sin and consequent misery of the prodigal.

II. His repentance, and welcome at his father's hands. III. The jealousy of the elder brother.

Many points in so great a subject, I must necessarily leave untouched.-The three above taken will furnish us with ample matter for our meditation this morning.

I. The sin of the Prodigal. It was this he left his father's house, and took his father's goods, and wasted them away from home in riotous living.—He threw off the natural restraint which living at home under his father's eye imposed upon him. He would be independent, and have no master but his own will: follow no guide, but act just as passion or impulse might lead him. And so he gathered the portion of goods which fell to his share, and took his journey into a far country, and there wusted his substance with riotous living.

That was his sin-that is still the sin of every one who tries to live independent of God-who takes his health, his youth, his riches, his talents-whatsoever goods fall to him, and uses these without reference to God's pleasure-lives to himself, and for himself in God's world.

All who lead such a life are Prodigals.-They act as did this man in the parable-they change their father's house, and their father's wholesome rule, for a life without restraint, a godless, lawless, irreligious life in the world.

Men do not

But, brethren, the change is a bad one. gain even on this side the grave, by departing from God -they lose-they lose deeply by it already. The godless worldly life, the life of unchecked self-will soon palls -the pleasures of sin are but for a season-and they are most unsatisfying.

For, mark how it was with this man in the parableWhen he had spent all, there arose a mighty fumine in that land, and he began to be in want. And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country, and he sent him into his fields to feed swine. And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the swine did eat, and no man gave unto him.

Let the worldling-let the man whoever he be, who seeks to be independent of God, to live without the restraint of religion, weigh well the words. Earthly happiness, fill the cup as high as we may, does not lastwe soon get to the dregs. And then comes the mighty famine the craving for something more lasting, more comforting-we join ourselves to a citizen of that country

we seek to keep down remorse by a more total surrender of ourselves to the world's maxims, and the world's ways. But all in vain, the world's food to the hungry soul, is, at the best but husks, and after a time it ceases to give us even so much as this!

God has so ordered it that the immortal soul with which He has endowed us, shall not find happiness for any long time except in Him. He and He only can give us the food convenient for us. From Him comes that mighty famine, that dissatisfaction with ourselves, and with the world's pleasures, which is often the

turning point in our course, the cord which draws us home, the secret spring of our repentance and of our return.

II. And this brings me to the second point before usthe return and welcome of the Prodigal. He had gone out from his home in all the bravery of independence, self-reliant, and bent on following his own way, claiming for his own the portion of goods with which his bountiful parent had furnished him. But when he came to himself, after he had spent all in that far country, and bethought him of his early abode, how full it was of all good things-and desired to return and be once more under its shelter, how changed is he for the better! All his self-confidence, all his self-assertion has vanished. We see him now a man lowly in his own eyes, of a broken and contrite spirit, conscious of having done wrong, making no excuse, taking to himself the blame, yearning for home, and yet with a feeling that he has forfeited his place there; content to go back on any terms no more a son-only as an hired servant!-I will arise and go to my father, and say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee; and am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants!

Here we have the prodigal's repentance.-Here we have traced out for our learning the leading lines of all true repentance unto the end.

There is first, you will observe, the wish to go unto God-the feeling that He will receive us because He is our Father.

Then there is the acknowledgment of our sin—and not

the bare acknowledgment, but a deep inward sense of its defilement—a feeling that, even while we trust God for pardon, we in no wise deserve it—we are not worthy to be called His sons.

And this constitutes an acceptable repentance. Whenever this is found in any one, God, be sure, does not despise it-on that man will He delight to shew mercy.

For note, again, how it was with the Prodigal-the welcome that he met with on his return-When he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.

So does God ever deal with the sinner who seeks His face. Slow to anger, and of great mercy, He giveth liberally, and upbraideth not. We, when we forgive, are apt to make a shew of our goodness in forgiving, or to join with our forgiveness bitter remarks on the greatness of the wrong, or the ingratitude of the offender. But God, brethren, does not so bruise the broken reed. When He pardons, He pardons altogether-He takes our sins, and casts them behind His back. No mention is made by Him of the past-no reference to our rebellious conduct, save that which serves to exhibit all the more His love, and to increase our confidence-This my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found!

Let no one, then, in whose heart a deep sense of sin has been awakened, doubt of God's mercy. Let him be assured that already from afar God sees him, and knows his misery, and waits but to hear his cry, ere He comes to his relief. Let such a man draw near to God, and

God will draw near to him. Let him come with trust in his heart, and make his humble confession, not excusing himself, but condemning himself for his own faults—and even while he is speaking the load will be removed. God, by some gracious token, will give him to know that his sins are remitted unto him-He will make him hear of joy and gladness, that the bones which He has broken may rejoice!

III. In the last place, let us look, for a moment, at the conduct of the elder son.

The reception given to his brother displeased him. He would take no part in the festivities-he was angry, and would not go in. When his father came out, and entreated him, he answered with a complaint-Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment; and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends; but as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf.

But the father answered-in the words of the textSon, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad, for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found!

This surely is not the least valuable part of the parable. That jealousy of the elder brother, which is here so forcibly depicted, is still reproduced amongst ourselves.

We live in an age when much anxious care and cost is bestowed on reclaiming those of our brethren who have gone astray. Penitentiaries, reformatories, and