Alas, my friends! how our own hearts deceive us! Had we been present, we should probably have done very much as most of the Jews did, and some of us might have shown still greater blindness of mind or hardness of heart. Have we not to-day the same gospel preached to us? Are not those who occupy our pulpits the accredited ambassadors of Christ? Is it not his word they speak, his claims they urge, his love they proclaim, and his salvation they offer? And how receive we the message and respond to the demand? With hearty faith, and grateful tears, and earnest obedience? Nay, do not many of us despise our own mercy, and reject the gracious counsel of God, not knowing the day of our visitation? Even we who profess faith in Christ and call ourselves his disciples--are we made wiser and better by the weekly recurrence of the blessed opportunity? "God hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son." Every gospel sermon delivered to us is a message from the throne of heaven. It is as if Christ every Sunday morning descended afresh from the Father, and stood before us in the pulpit, and stretched forth to us the hands once nailed to the shameful cross; with many amplifications and additional arguments repeating what he said in the temple on "the last day--that great day of the feast." "See, then, that ye refuse not him that speaketh: for if they escaped not who refused him that spake on earth, much more shall not we escape if we turn away from him that speaketh from heaven." Thirdly, the manner is to be considered. "Jesus stood and cried." The attitude is instructive. Jewish teachers generally sat. So did Jesus on the Mount. Here he stands--stands ready to bestow--stands ready to depart. Ready to bestow, he is ever standing--more ready to bestow than we to receive. Delighting in mercy, he waits to be gracious. All the day long he stretches out inviting hands to the perishing. All the night he lingers with dew-sprinkled locks at the door. Now, if ever, is the accepted time; now, if ever, the day of salvation. While Jesus waits, there is hope for the worst. But he who stands may soon depart. Mercy is limited by justice. Probation is bounded by destiny. If we heed not its compassionate plea, even love must leave us, hopelessly hardened in our sin. Jerusalem rejected her Messiah, and perished in spite of his tears. "How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salvation?"