At the point where they were standing there was a sheer fall of something more than eighty feet, from the ground to the river bank; and the gentleman referred to was standing very close to the edge, looking down to the river below. His wife stood just behind him, and had hold of his coat. She was frightened, and telling him not to stand too close to the edge, gently pulled his coat to make him come back. He replied that she need not be afraid, he was all right, and would not fall, at the same time giving a little jerk to get his coat out of his wife's hands. That jerk was too much; he lost his balance, and fell headlong over the precipice, striking his head upon a sharp rock close to the water's edge. He was killed instantly.

This conduct is too often imitated by many in relation to the soul. All, even the young and strong, are like men standing upon the sharp edge of a precipice, over which by disease or some sudden calamity they may in a moment be pushed ere they are aware into the gulf of eternity below. Life is full of illustrations of this fact. We knew a young man, healthy and strong, who had been the subject of deep convictions of sin for years; he knew their meaning, for he was in the habit of hearing the gospel preached Sabbath after Sabbath, and was frequently admonished by those who loved him; but being entangled by some pleasures of the world, from which he did not care immediately to part, and being young, healthy, and strong, he thought there was plenty of time; so, though often very uneasy in conscience, he remained undecided, playing as it were upon the edge of an unhappy uncertainty, and resisting the attempts of loving friends, who sought to hold him back from his folly. A sudden jerk, however, came; disease seized him, and he was soon stretched upon the bed of death. His conscience, now fully awake, rushed upon him like an armed man, and it was truly distressing to witness the anguish of his soul in the midst of the thick darkness of conscious guilt, as it struggled in vain for rest and peace. Mercifully for him the Saviour. whom in the days of his health and ease he

had so long slighted, in answer to his bitter cries and tears, drew near, and, like the Good Samaritan, poured into his wounds the oil and wine of gospel consolation and hope, enabling him in his extremity, by faith, to rest upon His blood and righteousness, and by believing so to enter into rest that he left the world in peace, rejoicing in hope of a glorious resurrection.

In relation to other things in which there is danger this incident of standing too near the edge may instruct us.

Intemperance.--We know the case of a man who had not the slightest tendency to drink, and who thought he was quite safe in meeting with a few friends two or three times a week in a billiard-room and taking a glass of brandy and water. But after a time his one glass became two, and then three, and ultimately he became a drunkard. He was playing too near the edge.

Infidelity. Another young man, the child of godly parents, and well instructed in relation to religion, began to read the writings of certain men of sceptical tendencies; he thought he was quite secure, that nothing they could say would disturb his faith; but he soon found himself enclosed in the meshes of doubt, and for a time stood in the ranks of infidelity. He went too near the edge. The subject, then, admonishes us not to trifle with convictions of sin, or to stand upon the edge of indecision in relation to the salvation of the soul. 66 To-day," says God, "if ye hear "Come now," says God,

my voice," not to-morrow ; "and let us reason together." If you are not conscious that your sins are forgiven, and your soul secure in Christ, go at once to Him, and do not rest satisfied until, through His teachings and words, you know you are saved. Do not play upon the edge of uncertainty and danger.

In relation to intemperance and infidelity, beware of the first glass and first book; if you would not fall over the precipice, do not approach the edge. My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not."

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The Idlers in the Market-Place.'

HE day was drawing to a close; already perhaps the shades of evening were beginning to fall. It had been a busy day in the vineyard; some labourers had been at work all day, others had joined them from time to time, but now the labour of the day was almost over, for there was but one working hour left. Yet, at that busy season, there was still work for more labourers, and even in one hour something might be done; so now, at the eleventh hour, the master once more went out into the market-place, and hired those he found there for what remained of the day. Yet not so much hired as allowed them to go in, for it was but little they could do then; but the poor men had had no work that day, and the master was a kind man, and so he set them to

work, but less for his benefit than for theirs; this was shown plainly when paying time came.

Let us turn aside for a moment to notice the payment, for all the labourers received the same, though they had worked for such unequal times; and this makes some difficulty in the application of the parable.

We must divide the labourers into two classes: those first hired form one class, all the rest form the other. The distinction is this: those first hired agreed to work for a penny a day-a Roman penny, the fair payment for a day's work ; but all the rest, hired as they were at different hours, made no bargain at all, but went to work, leaving it to the master to pay them what he thought right. "Whatsoever is right, I will give you; whatsoever is right, that shall ye receive." Those were the terms he offered, and on those terms they went in.

In applying the parable, therefore, the penny in the one case and the penny in the other do not represent the same thing. In the one case it represents wages, in the other a gift; in the one case it was earned, in the other it was not earned; in the one case it is of works, in the other of grace. The penny paid to the first labourers was their just payment, what they had bargained for and earned, neither less nor more. The penny which the others received, especially the last, had been neither bargained for nor earned; these men had left all to the master, trusting his word; it was therefore a matter of grace on his part, of faith on theirs.

This view is strengthened by this fact, that the first murmured. Do any who are saved by grace murmur that others are saved by grace too? If any could be saved by works, then indeed we might easily suppose that they would look with a jealous eye on any saved by grace, as the elder son in the parable envied his prodigal brother, and as these first-hired labourers envied those who came in after them. But none can be saved by works. The firsthired, then, do not represent the saved; but those who,

trusting in their own merits, receive what they have earned, and that alone. The penny in their case does not represent salvation, because salvation is of grace alone.

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And this view is further strengthened by the words which come immediately before, as well as just after, the parable: "But many that are first shall be last; and the last shall be first;" "So the last shall be first, and the first last : for many be called, but few chosen." The parable is enclosed between these two sentences; they evidently contain the truth which the parable is meant to teach. Who are the first," but the first called into the vineyard, meaning the self-righteous Jews, and such men as the self-righteous young ruler, and all self-righteous people-people who have enjoyed great advantages, but have no saving faith? And who are "the last," but those true disciples described by our Lord in His answer to Peter (Matt. xix. 28, 29)? They may have had far less advantages than the others, and may have received the call later; but they have believed, and followed, and been faithful. They were last, but they shall be first. They are the few that are chosen.

But now let us come back to this particular part of the parable contained in the 6th verse.

The householder, finding these men standing idle, and not knowing why, but judging only by what he saw, put this question to them, "Why stand ye here all the day idle ?"

We have to do with One who knows all things; He visits the market-place of this world continually. Nay, His eye is always on it, He sees all that takes place in it. Alas, He finds many standing idle. He knows all about them, all about every one: how long he has stood there, and why he stands there. Yet He puts a searching question to each; not for information, but as appealing to each one's conscience; "Why standest thou here all the day idle?"

We are not to stand idle; we are not meant to do so; it was not for this that we were created, and placed where we are. What then ought we to be doing? We ought to be mainly busy about two great concerns: our own salvation,