hearts will misgive us, and as we approach the seat of the Holy One, we shall start back with shame and dread. The thought will rush across the mind, How can we meet his face? How dare we hope for forgiveness and acceptance?" Once more let us look at the prodigal. He has set out on his journey; he has travelled many weary miles; he now begins to recognize old and familiar spots; his heart sinks and rises as he thinks that another hour or two may bring him within sight of home. In that same direction his father is walking, and very far off, just on the verge of the horizon, he sees a forlorn and ragged figure toiling slowly on his way. A servant of the household would never have guessed who it was, but a parent's eye could not be mistaken. In that squalid, povertystricken stranger he detects his own son, and, lest his courage should fail, he hastens to meet him, and, before the penitent can confess his sin or urge his humble petition, he falls on his neck and kisses him. O, wondrous illustration of the Great Father's love and pity to his returning children! He sees, beneath the reckless, godless, unpromising exterior, the first feeling of shame and sorrow, the first wish to be better; He hears the first whisper, inaudible and unsuspected by any but Himself, "I will arise and go to my father," and lest that feeble spark should be quenched, or the wish be extinguished in despair, He goes forth to meet him in his promises and his grace, and says, "Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out." O! is not this enough to scatter the fears of the most timid, and, while it encourages your heart, to fill it with fervent, lasting love?

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But this is not all. The son, still more smitten with shame and penitence by his father's tenderness and his father's welcome, sobbed out the impassioned acknowledgment, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son;" but the father, absorbed in the joy of his return, answered by acts rather than words, and commanded his servants to put on him the best robe, to put a ring on his hand and shoes on his feet, to kill the fatted calf, and prepare a feast, at which all might exult on the wanderer's return. He is reinstated in his old position, he lives again in his father's love, honours are heaped upon him, and the joyous refrain is ever and anon repeated, "This, my son, was dead and is alive again he was lost and is found." And this exquisite touch, so true to nature, is intended to encourage all those shrinking, trembling ones that are disposed to lose heart, when they think of drawing near to God. Not only will He not scorn or reproach you, not only will He manifest no hesitation to receive you, but "before you call he will auswer, and while you are yet speaking he will hear." Repel you! reprove you! He, who made such a sacrifice to save you? He will load you with honour, He will lavish on you his gifts. He will place you not among the servants, but the children; He will cleanse you by the grace of his Spirit, and adorn with the robe of his righteousness; He will give you the pledge of indissoluble union and everlasting love; He will refresh you by the ordinances of his house, the fellowship of his saints, and the promises of his Word; He will invite all holy beings to exult in your recovery and "rejoice over you with singing;" and at last He will bring you to that blest home where you shall for ever behold his presence and share in the fulness of his joy! Again we say, to those who wish to love God, wish to live the lives and wear the character of children, "Fear not, he will abundantly pardon."

you

IV. And here we might close and yet it is possible that there are a few who may

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be disheartened, not so much by the thought of God, as by the cold, reproachful, bitter tone in which some professedly religious men refer to the depraved and sunken, and to any expression of hope that they may be reclaimed and elevated. Such men, you believe, look on you with a little pity and with much contempt. Proud of their own fancied righteousness, they regard you as the offscouring of all things, they never darken your doors, or speak one kind helpful word to you, but only try to forget you, because the remembrance of you disturbs their quiet. Well, my brethren, I fancy that these men, if they ever existed, are daily getting fewer; that Christians are becoming more and more anxious to bless the irreligious and wretched, both in body and in soul; and that some of those whom you suspect of scorn and cold-heartedness are held back rather by the fear that you would resent their interference, than by unconcern about your condition. But, even if to any extent you are right, remember that the Pharisees, who thought themselves emphatically the religious men of their day, shrunk with a still more pious horror from the very touch of the publicans and sinners, whose case is set forth by the prodigal. But what did the prodigal do? If he had asked counsel of the lordly Pharisee, his elder brother, he would probably have been driven to despair, but, asking the help of no one, he went straight to his father, and, folded in his arms of love, forgot all about the sneers and surprise with which his welcome would be greeted. And when his Pharisaic brother began to sulk and to growl, that so much joy and feasting should be wasted on such a worthless wretch, and jealously intimated that years of obedience on his part had been rewarded by no such honour, did the father give up the wanderer, or say to the complainer, "You are right?" O, no! he reproved him for his sullen exclusiveness; showed the unreasonableness of his angry remonstrance, and cried, "It is meet that we should make merry and be glad, for this thy brother was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found." If then, either with or without reason, you fear coldness and incredulity from those who ought to take you by the hand, go direct to the Saviour, make your confession to Him rest in His atonement, confide in His love, and let no proud Pharisee cheat you of the blessedness of being his son. Once at home again, your heart true and faithful, your life consistent and pure, you will receive a brother's welcome from many from whom you expected a sneer. Loving greetings and earnest prayers will be poured on your head, and if any should hold aloof and murmur their doubts and apprehensions, you will lose all sense of the passing annoyance in the warm smile of Him who knows your heart, and who says to each doubter, "This my son was dead and is alive again, was lost and is found." May the Holy Spirit of God lead you to the Saviour, help you to trust in Him alone, and grant you grace to live and die as his sons. Amen.

THE TWO TALENTS.

A Sermon

DELIVERED ON SABBATH MORNING, JANUARY 31, 1858, BY THE

REV. C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE MUSIC HALL, ROYAL SURREY

GARDENS.

"He also that had received two talents came and said, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me two talents: behold, I have gained two other talents beside them. His lord said unto him, Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."-Matthew xxv. 22. 23.

"EVERY good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights." All that men have they must trace to the Great Fountain, the giver of all good. Hast thou talents? They were given thee by the God of talents. Hast thou time? hast thou wealth, influence, power? Hast thou powers of tongue? Hast thou powers of thought? Art thou poet, statesman, or philosopher? Whatever be thy position and whatever be thy gifts, remember that they are not thine, but they are lent thee from on high. No man hath anything of his own, except his sins. We are but tenants at will. God hath put us into his estates, and he hath said, "Occupy till I come." Though our vineyards bear never so much fruit, yet the vineyard belongs to the King, and though we are to take the hundred for our hire, yet King Solomon must have his thousand. All the honour of our ability and the use of it must be unto God, because he is the Giver. The parable tells us this very pointedly; for it makes every person acknowledge that his talents come from the Lord. Even the man who digged in the earth and hid his Lord's money, did not deny that his talent belonged to his Master; for though his reply, "Lo, there thou hast that is thine," was exceedingly impertinent, yet it was not a denial of this fact. So that even this man was ahead of those who deny their obligations to God, who superciliously toss their heads at the very mention of obedience to their Creator, and spend their time and their powers rather in rebellion against him than in his service. Oh, that we were all wise to believe and to act upon this most evident of all truths, that everything we have, we have received from the Most High.

Now, there are some men in the world who have but few talents. Our parable says, "One had five, and another two." To them I shall address myself this morning; and I pray that the few pointed things I may say, may be blessed of God to their edification or rebuke. First, I shall notice the fact that there are many persons who have but few talents, and I will try to account for God's dispensing but few to them. Secondly, I shall remind them that even for these few talents they must be brought to account. And thirdly, I shall conclude, by making the comforting observation, that if our few talents be rightly used, neither our own conscience nor our Master's judgment shall condemn us for not having more.

L. First, then, GOD HAS MADE SOME MEN WITH FEW TALENTS. You very often hear men speak of one another as if God had made no mental differences at all. One man finds himself successful, and he supposes that if everyone else could have been as industrious and as persevering as himself, everyone must necessarily have been as successful. You will often hear remarks against ministers who are godly and earnest men, but who do not happen to have much attracting power, and they are called drones and lazy persons, because they cannot make much of a stir in the

world, whereas the reason may be, that they have but little talent, and are making the best use of what they have, and therefore ought not to be rebuked for the littleness of what they are able to accomplish. It is a fact, which every man must see, that even in our birth there is a difference. All children are not alike precocious, and all men certainly are not alike capable of learning or of teaching. God hath made eminent and marvellous differences. We are not to suppose that all the difference between a Milton and a man who lives and dies without being able to read, has been caused by education. There was doubtless a difference originally, and though education will do much, it cannot do everything. Fertile ground, when well-tilled, will necessarily bring forth more than the best tilled estate, the soil of which is hard and sterile. God has made great and decided differences; and we ought, in dealing with our fellow men, to recollect this, lest we should say harsh things of those very men to whom God will afterwards say, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

But why is it that God has not given to all men like talents? My first answer shall be, because God is a Sovereign, and of all attributes, next to his love, God is the most fond of displaying his sovereignty. The Lord God will have men know that he has a right to do what he wills with his own. Hence it is, that in salvation he gives it to some and not to others; and his only reply to any accusation of injustice is, "Nay, but O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?" The worm is not to murmur because God did not make it an angel, and the fish that swims the sea must not complain because it hath not wings to fly into the highest heavens. God had a right to make his creatures just what he pleased, and though men may dispute his right, he will hold and keep it inviolate against all comers. That he may hedge his right about and make vain man acknowledge it, in all his gifts he continually reminds us of his sovereignty. "I will give to this man," he says, "a mind so acute that he shall pry into all secrets; I will make another so obtuse that none but the plainest elements of knowledge shall ever be attainable by him. I will give to one man such a wealth of imagination, that he shall pile mountain upon mountain of imagery, till his language seems to reach to celestial majesty; I will give to another man a soul so dull, that he shall never be able to originate a poetic thought." Why this, O God? The answer comes back, "Shall I not do what I will with mine own?" So, then, the children being not yet born, neither having done good or evil, that the purpose of God according to election might stand, it was written, the elder shall serve the younger." And so it is written concerning men, that one of them shall be greater than another; one shall bow his neck, and the other put his foot upon it, for the Lord hath a right to dispose of places and of gifts, of talents and wealth, just as seemeth good in his sight.

Now, most men quarrel with this. But mark, the thing that you complain of in God, is the very thing that you love in yourselves. Every man likes to feel that he has a right to do with his own as he pleases. We all like to be little sovereigns. You will give your money freely and liberally to the poor; but if any man should impertinently urge that he had a claim upon your charity, would you give unto him? Certainly not; and who shall impeach the greatness of your generosity in so doing? It is even as that parable, that we have in one of the Evangelists, where, after the men had toiled, some of them twelve hours, some of them six, and some of them but one, the Lord gave every man a penny. Oh! I would meekly bow my head, and say, "My Lord, hast thou given me one talent? then I bless thee for it, and I pray thee bestow upon me grace to use it rightly. Hast thou given to my brother ten talents? I thank thee for the greatness of thy kindness towards him; but I neither envy him, nor complain of thee." Oh! for a spirit that bows always before the sovereignty of God.

Again: God gives to one five, and to another two talents, because the Creator is a lover of variety. It was said that order is heaven's first law; surely variety is the second; for in all God's works, there is the most beautiful diversity. Look ye towards the heavens at night: all the stars shine not with the same brilliance, nor are they placed in straight lines, like the lamps of our streets. Then turn your eyes below: see in the vegetable world, how many great distinctions there are, ranging from the cedar of Lebanon to the hyssop on the wall, or the moss that is smaller still. See how from the huge mammoth tree, that seems as if beneath its branches it might shade an army, down to the tiny lichen, God hath made everything beautiful, but everything full of variety. Look on any one tree, if you please: see how

every leaf differs from its fellow-how even the little tiny buds that are at this hour bursting at the scent of the approaching perfume of spring, differ from each other-not two of them alike. Look again, upon the animated world: God hath not made every creature like unto another. How wide the range-from the colossal elephant, to the coney that burrows in the rock-from the whale that makes the deep hoary with its lashings, to the tiny minnow that skims the brook; God hath made all things different, and we see variety everywhere. I doubt not it is the same, even in heaven, for there there are "thrones, and dominions, and principalities, and powers "-different ranks of angels, perhaps, rising tier upon tier. "One star different from another star in glory." And why should not the same rule stand good in manhood? Doth God cast us all in the same mould? It seems not so; for he hath not made our faces alike; no two countenances can be said to be exactly the same, for if there be some likeness, yet is there a manifest diversity. Should minds, then, be alike? Should souls all be cast in the same fashion? Should God's creation dwindle down into a great manufactory, in which everything is melted in the same fire and poured into the same mould? No, for variety's sake, he will have one man a renowned David, and another David's unknown armour bearer; he will have one man a Jeremy, who shall prophecy, and another a Baruch, who shall only read the prophecy; one shall be rich as Dives, another poor as Lazarus; one shall speak with a voice loud as thunder, another shall be dumb; one shall be mighty in word and doctrine, another shall be feeble in speech and slow in words. God will have variety, and the day will come when, looking down upon the world we shall see the beauty of its history to be mightily indebted to the variety of the characters that entered into it.

But a little further. God hath a deeper reason than this. God gives to some men but few talents, because he has many small spheres, and he would have these filled. There is a great ocean, and it needs inhabitants. O Lord, thou hast made Leviathan to swim therein. There is a secret grotto, a hidden cavern, far away in the depths of the sea; its entrance is but small; if there were nought but a Leviathan, it must remain untenanted for ever: a little fish is made, and that small place becomes an ocean unto it. There are a thousand sprays and twigs upon the trees of the forest; were an eagles, how would the forests be made glad with song, and how could each twig bear its songster? But because God would have each twig have its own music, he has made the little songster to sit upon it. Each sphere must have the creature to occupy it adapted to the size of the sphere. God always acts economically. Does he intend a man to be the pastor of some small parish with four or five hundred inhabitants? Of what use is it giving to that man the abilities of an apostle? Does he intend a woman to be a humble teacher of her own children at home, a quiet trainer of her own family? Would it not even disturb her and injure her if God should make her a poetess, and give her gifts that might electrify a nation? The littleness of her talents will to a degree fit her for the littleness of her sphere. There is some youth who is quite capable of assisting in a Ragged School: perhaps if he had a higher genius he might disdain the work, and so the Ragged School would be without its excellent teacher. There are little spheres, and God will have little men to occupy them. There are posts

of important duty, and men shall be found with nerve and muscle fitted for the labour. He has made a statue for every niche, and a picture for every portion of the gallery; none shall be left vacant; but since some niches are small, so shall be the statuettes that occupy them. To some he gives two talents, because two are enough, and five would be too many.

Once more: God gives to men two talents, because in them very often he displays the greatness of his grace in saving souls. You have heard of a minister who was deeply read in sacred lore; his wisdom was profound, and his speech graceful. Under his preaching many were converted. Have you never heard it not quite said, but almost hinted, that much of his success was traceable to his learning and to his graceful oratory? But, on the other hand, you have met with a man, rough in his dialect, uncouth in his manners, evidently without any great literary attainments; nevertheless, God has given that man the one talent of an earnest heart; he speaks like a son of thunder; with rough, stern language, he denounces sin and proclaims the gospel; under him hundreds are converted. The world sneers at him. "I can see no reason for all this," says the scholar; "it is all rubbish-cant; the man knows nothing." The critic takes up his pen, nibs it afresh, dips it in the bitterest ink he can find, and writes a most delightful history of the man, in which