__________________________________________________________________

           Title: Spurgeon's Sermons Volume 2: 1856
      Creator(s): Spurgeon, Charles Haddon (1834-1892)
   CCEL Subjects: All; Sermons;
      LC Call no: BV42
   LC Subjects:

   Practical theology

   Worship (Public and Private) Including the church year, Christian
   symbols, liturgy, prayer, hymnology

   Times and Seasons. The church year
     __________________________________________________________________

                              Christ Our Passover

   A Sermon

   (No. 54)

   Delivered on Sabbath Evening, December 2, 1855, by the

   REV. C.H. SPURGEON

   At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

   "For even Christ our passover is sacrificed for us."--1 Corinthians
   5:7.

   THE more you read the Bible, and the more you meditate upon it, the
   more you will be astonished with it. He who is but a casual reader of
   the Bible, does not know the height, the depth, the length and breadth
   of the mighty meanings contained in its pages. There are certain times
   when I discover a new vein of thought, and I put my hand to my head and
   say in astonishment, "Oh, it is wonderful I never saw this before in
   the Scriptures." You will find the Scriptures enlarge as you enter
   them; the more you study them the less you will appear to know of them,
   for they widen out as we approach them. Especially will you find this
   the case with the typical parts of God's Word. Most of the historical
   books were intended to be types either of dispensations, or
   experiences, or offices of Jesus Christ. Study the Bible with this as a
   key, and you will not blame Herbert when he calls it "not only the book
   of God, but the God of books." One of the most interesting points of
   the Scriptures is their constant tendency to display Christ; and
   perhaps one of the most beautiful figures under which Jesus Christ is
   ever exhibited in sacred writ, is the Passover Paschal Lamb. It is
   Christ of whom we are about to speak to-night.

   Israel was in Egypt, in extreme bondage; the severity of their slavery
   had continually increased till it was so oppressive that their
   incessant groans went up to heaven. God who avenges his own elect,
   though they cry day and night unto him, at last, determined that he
   would direct a fearful blow against Egypt's king and Egypt's nation,
   and deliver his own people. We can picture the anxieties and the
   anticipations of Israel, but we can scarcely sympathize with them,
   unless we as Christians have had the same deliverance from spiritual
   Egypt. Let us, brethren, go back to the day in our experience, when we
   abode in the land of Egypt, working in the brick-kilns of sin, toiling
   to make ourselves better, and finding it to be of no avail; let us
   recall that memorable night, the beginning of months, the commencement
   of a new life in our spirit, and the beginning of an altogether new era
   in our soul. The Word of God struck the blow at our sin; he gave us
   Jesus Christ our sacrifice; and in that night we went out of Egypt.
   Though we have passed through the wilderness since then, and have
   fought the Amalekites, have trodden on the fiery serpent, have been
   scorched by the heat and frozen by the snows, yet we have never since
   that time gone back to Egypt; although our hearts may sometimes have
   desired the leeks, the onions, and the flesh-pots of Egypt, yet we have
   never been brought into slavery since then. Come, let us keep the
   Passover this night, and think of the night when the Lord delivered us
   out of Egypt. Let us behold our Saviour Jesus as the Paschal Lamb on
   which we feed; yea, let us not only look at him as such, but let us sit
   down to-night at his table, let us eat of his flesh and drink of his
   blood; for his flesh is meat indeed, and his blood is drink indeed. In
   holy solemnity let our hearts approach that ancient supper; let us go
   back to Egypt's darkness, and by holy contemplation behold, instead of
   the destroying angel, the angel of the covenant, at the head of the
   feast,--"the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world."

   I shall not have time to-night to enter into the whole history and
   mystery of the Passover; you will not understand me to be to- night
   preaching concerning the whole of it; but a few prominent points
   therein as a part of them. It would require a dozen sermons to do so;
   in fact a book as large as Caryl upon Job--if we could find a divine
   equally prolix and equally sensible. But we shall first of all look at
   the Lord Jesus Christ, and show how he corresponds with the Paschal
   Lamb, and endeavour to bring you to the two points--of having his blood
   sprinkled on you, and having fed on him.

   I. First, then, JESUS CHRIST IS TYPIFIED HERE UNDER THE PASCHAL LAMB;
   and should there be one of the seed of Abraham here who has never seen
   Christ to be the Messiah, I beg his special attention to that which I
   am to advance, when I speak of the Lord Jesus as none other than the
   Lamb of God slain for the deliverance of his chosen people. Follow me
   with your Bibles, and open first at the 12th chapter of Exodus.

   We commence, first of all, with the victim--the lamb. How fine a
   picture of Christ. No other creature could so well have typified him
   who was holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners. Being
   also the emblem of sacrifice, it most sweetly pourtrayed our Lord and
   Saviour Jesus Christ. Search natural history through, and though you
   will find other emblems which set forth different characteristics of
   his nature, and admirably display him to our souls, yet there is none
   which seems so appropriate to the person of our beloved Lord as that of
   the Lamb. A child would at once perceive the likeness between a lamb
   and Jesus Christ, so gentle and innocent, so mild and harmless, neither
   hurting others, nor seeming to have the power to resent an injury.

   "A humble man before his foes, a weary man and full of woes."

   What tortures the sheepish race have received from us! how are they,
   though innocent, continually slaughtered for our food! Their skin is
   dragged from their backs, their wool is shorn to give us a garment. And
   so the Lord Jesus Christ, our glorious Master, doth give us his
   garments that we may be clothed with them; he is rent in sunder for us;
   his very blood is poured out for our sins; harmless and holy, a
   glorious sacrifice for the sins of all his children. Thus the Paschal
   Lamb might well convey to the pious Hebrew the person of a suffering,
   silent, patient, harmless Messiah.

   Look further down. It was a lamb without blemish. A blemished lamb, if
   it had the smallest speck of disease, the least wound, would not have
   been allowed for a Passover. The priest would not have suffered it to
   be slaughtered, nor would God have accepted the sacrifice at his hands.
   It must be a lamb without blemish. And was not Jesus Christ even such
   from his birth? Unblemished, born of the pure virgin Mary, begotten of
   the Holy Ghost, without a taint of sin; his soul was pure, and spotless
   as the driven snow, white, clear, perfect; and his life was the same.
   In him was no sin. He took our infirmities and bore our sorrows on the
   cross. He was in all points tempted as we are, but there was that sweet
   exception, "yet without sin." A lamb without blemish. Ye who have known
   the Lord, who have tasted of his grace, who have held fellowship with
   him, doth not your heart acknowledge that he is a lamb without blemish?
   Can ye find any fault with your Saviour? Have you aught to lay to his
   charge? Hath his truthfulness departed? Have his words been broken?
   Have his promises failed? Has he forgotten his engagements? And, in any
   respect, can you find in him any blemish? Ah, no! he is the unblemished
   lamb, the pure, the spotless, the immaculate, "the Lamb of God who
   taketh away the sin of the world;" and in him there is no sin.

   Go on further down the chapter. "Your lamb shall be without blemish, a
   male of the first year." I need not stop to consider the reason why the
   male was chosen; we only note that it was to be a male of the first
   year. Then it was in its prime then its strength was unexhausted, then
   its power was just ripened into maturity and perfection, God would not
   have an untimely fruit. God would not have that offered which had not
   come to maturity. And so our Lord Jesus Christ had just come to the
   ripeness of manhood when he was offered. At 34 years of age was he
   sacrificed for our sins; he was then hale and strong, although his body
   may have been emaciated by suffering, and his face more marred than
   that of any other man, yet was he then in the perfection of manhood.
   Methinks I see him then. His goodly beard flowing down upon his breast;
   I see him with his eyes full of genius, his form erect, his mien
   majestic, his energy entire, his whole frame in full development,--a
   real man, a magnificent man--fairer than the sons of men; a Lamb not
   only without blemish, but with all his powers fully brought out. Such
   was Jesus Christ--a Lamb of the first year--not a boy, not a lad, not a
   young man, but a full man, that he might give his soul unto us. He did
   not give himself to die for us when he was a youth, for he would not
   then have given all he was to be; he did not give himself to die for us
   when he was in old age, for then would he have given himself when he
   was in decay; but just in his maturity, in his very prime, then Jesus
   Christ our Passover was sacrificed for us. And, moreover, at the time
   of his death, Christ was full of life, for we are informed by one of
   the evangelists that "he cried with a loud voice and gave up the
   ghost." This is a sign that Jesus did not die through weakness, nor
   through decay of nature. His soul was strong within him; he was still
   the Lamb of the first year. Still was he mighty; he could, if he
   pleased, even on the cross, have unlocked his hands from their iron
   bolts; and descending from the tree of infamy, have driven his
   astonished foes before him, like deer scattered by a lion, yet did he
   meekly yield obedience unto death. My soul; canst thou not see thy
   Jesus here, the unblemished Lamb of the first year, strong and mighty?
   And, O my heart! does not the though rise up--if Jesus consecrated
   himself to thee when he was thus in all his strength and vigour, should
   not I in youth dedicate myself to him? And if I am in manhood, how am I
   doubly bound to give my strength to him? And if I am in old age, still
   should I seek while the little remains, to consecrate that little to
   him. If he gave his all to me, which was much, should I not give my
   little all to him? Should I not feel bound to consecrate myself
   entirely to his service, to lay body, soul, and spirit, time, talents,
   all upon his altar. And though I am not an unblemished lamb, yet I am
   happy that as the leavened cake was accepted with the sacrifice, though
   never burned with it--I, though a leavened cake, may be offered on the
   altar with my Lord and Saviour, the Lord's burnt offering, and so,
   though impure, and full of leaven, I may be accepted in the beloved, an
   offering of a sweet savour, acceptable unto the Lord my God. Here is
   Jesus, beloved, a Lamb without blemish, a Lamb of the first year!

   The subject now expands and the interest deepens. Let me have your very
   serious consideration to the next point, which has much gratified me in
   its discovery and which will instruct you in the relation. In the 6th
   verse of the 12th chapter of Exodus we are told that this lamb which
   should be offered at the Passover was to be selected four days before
   its sacrifice, and to be kept apart:--"In the tenth day of this month
   they shall take to them every man a lamb, according to the house of
   their fathers, a lamb for an house: and if the household be too little
   for the lamb, let him and his neighbour next unto his house take it
   according to the number of the souls; every man according to his eating
   shall make your count for the lamb." The 6th verse says, "And ye shall
   keep it until the fourteenth day of the same month." For four days this
   lamb, chosen to be offered, was taken away from the rest of the flock
   and kept alone by itself, for two reasons: partly that by its constant
   bleatings they might be put in remembrance of the solemn feast which
   was to be celebrated; and moreover, that during the four days they
   might be quite assured that it had no blemish, for during that time it
   was subject to constant inspection, in order that they might be certain
   that it had no hurt or injury that would render it unacceptable to the
   Lord. And now, brethren, a remarkable fact flashes before you--just as
   this lamb was separated four days, the ancient allegories used to say
   that Christ was separated four years. Four years after he left his
   father's house he went into the wilderness, and was tempted of the
   devil. Four years after his baptism he was sacrificed for us. But there
   is another, better than that:--About four days before his crucifixion,
   Jesus Christ rode in triumph through the streets of Jerusalem. He was
   thus openly set apart as being distinct from mankind. He, on the ass,
   rode up to the temple, that all might see him to be Judah's Lamb,
   chosen of God, and ordained from the foundation of the world. And what
   is more remarkable still, during those four days, you will see, if you
   turn to the Evangelists, at your leisure, that as much is recorded of
   what he did and said as through all the other part of his life. During
   those four days, he upbraided the fig tree, and straightway it
   withered; it was then that he drove the buyers and sellers from the
   temple; it was then that he rebuked the priests and elders, by telling
   them the similitude of the two sons, one of whom said he would go, and
   did not, and the other who said he would not go, and went; it was then
   that he narrated the parable of the husbandsmen, who slew those who
   were sent to them; afterwards he gave the parable of the marriage of
   the king's son. Then comes his parable concerning the man who went unto
   the feast, not having on a wedding garment; and then also, the parable
   concerning the ten virgins, five of whom were very wise, and five of
   whom were foolish; then comes the chapter of very striking
   denunciations against the Pharisees:--"Woe unto you O ye blind
   Pharisees! cleanse first that which is within the cup and platter;" and
   then also comes that long chapter of prophecy concerning what should
   happen at the siege of Jerusalem, and an account of the dissolution of
   the world: "Learn a parable of the fig-tree: when his branch is yet
   tender and putteth forth leaves, ye know that summer is nigh.: But I
   will not trouble you by telling you here that at the same time he gave
   them that splendid description of the day of judgment, when the sheep
   shall be divided from the goats. In fact, the most splendid utterances
   of Jesus were recorded as having taken place within these four days.
   Just as the lamb separated from its fellows, did bleat more than ever
   during the four days, so did Jesus during those four days speak more;
   and if you want to find a choice saying of Jesus, turn to the account
   of the last four days' ministry to find it. There you will find that
   chapter, "Let not your hearts be troubled;" there also, his great
   prayer, "Father, I will;" and so on. The greatest things he did, he did
   in the last four days when he was set apart.

   And there is one more thing to which I beg your particular attention,
   and that is, that during those four days I told you that the lamb was
   subject to the closest scrutiny, so, also, during those four days, it
   is singular to relate, that Jesus Christ was examined by all classes of
   persons. It was during those four days that the lawyer asked him which
   was the greatest commandment? and he said, "Thou shalt love the Lord
   thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul, and with all thy
   might; and thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." It was then that
   the Herodians came and questioned him about the tribute money; it was
   then that the Pharisees tempted him; it was then, also, the Sadducees
   tried him upon the subject of the resurrection. He was tried by all
   classes and grades--Herodians, Pharisees, Sadducees, lawyers, and the
   common people. It was during these four days that he was examined: but
   how did he come forth? An immaculate Lamb! The officers said, "never
   man spake like this man." His foes found none who could even bear false
   witness against him, such as agreed together; and Pilate declared, "I
   find no fault in him." He would not have been fit for the Paschal Lamb
   had a single blemish have been discovered, but "I find no fault in
   him," was the utterance of the great chief magistrate, who thereby
   declared that the Lamb might be eaten at God's Passover, the symbol and
   the means of the deliverance of God's people. O beloved! you have only
   to study the Scriptures to find out wondrous things in them; you have
   only to search deeply, and you stand amazed at their richness. You will
   find God's Word to be a very precious word; the more you live by it and
   study it, the more will it be endeared to your minds.

   But the next thing we must mark is the place where this lamb was to be
   killed, which peculiarly sets forth that it must be Jesus Christ. The
   first Passover was held in Egypt, the second Passover was held in the
   wilderness; but we do not read that there were more than these two
   Passovers celebrated until the Israelites came to Canaan. And then, if
   you turn to a passage in Deuteronomy, the 16th chapter, you will find
   that God no longer allowed them to slay the Lamb in their own houses
   but appointed a place for its celebration. In the wilderness, they
   brought their offerings to the tabernacle where the lamb was
   slaughtered; but at its first appointment in Egypt, of course they had
   no special place to which they took the lamb to be sacrificed.
   Afterwards, we read in the 16th of Deuteronomy, and the 5th verse,
   "Thou mayest not sacrifice the Passover within any of thy gates, which
   the Lord thy God giveth thee; but at the place which the Lord thy God
   shall chose to place his name in, there thou shalt sacrifice the
   Passover at even at the going down of the sun, at the season that thou
   camest forth out of Egypt." It was in Jerusalem that men ought to
   worship, for salvation was of the Jews; there was God's palace, there
   his altar smoked, and there only might the Paschal Lamb be killed. So
   was our blessed Lord led to Jerusalem. The infuriated throng dragged
   him along the city. In Jerusalem our Lamb was sacrificed for us; it was
   at the precise spot where God had ordained that it should be. Oh! if
   that mob who gathered round him at Nazareth had been able to push him
   headlong down the hill, then Christ could not have died at Jerusalem;
   but as he said, "a prophet cannot perish out of Jerusalem," so was it
   true that the King of all prophets could not do otherwise,--the
   prophecies concerning him would not have been fulfilled. "Thou shalt
   kill the lamb in the place the Lord thy God shall appoint." He was
   sacrificed in the very place. Thus, again you have an incidental proof
   that Jesus Christ was the Paschal Lamb for his people.

   The next point is the manner of his death. I think the manner in which
   the lamb was to be offered so peculiarly sets forth the crucifixion of
   Christ, that no other kind of death could by any means have answered
   all the particulars set down here. First, the lamb was to be
   slaughtered, and its blood caught in a basin. Usually blood was caught
   in a golden basin. Then, as soon as it was taken, the priest standing
   by the altar on which the fat was burning, threw the blood on the fire
   or cast it at the foot of the altar. You may guess what a scene it was.
   Ten thousand lambs sacrificed, and the blood poured out in a purple
   river. Next, the lamb was to be roasted; but it was not to have a bone
   of its body broken. Now I do say, there is nothing but crucifixion
   which can answer all these three things. Crucifixion has in it the
   shedding of blood--the hands and feet were pierced. It has in it the
   idea of roasting, for roasting signifies a long torment, and as the
   lamb was for a long time before the fire, so Christ, in crucifixion,
   was for a long time exposed to a broiling sun, and all the other pains
   which crucifixion engenders. Moreover not a bone was broken; which
   could not have been the case with any other punishment. Suppose it had
   been possible to put Christ to death in any other way. Sometimes the
   Romans put criminals to death by decapitation; but by a such death the
   next is broken. Many martyrs were put to death by having a sword
   pierced through them; but, while that would have been a bloody death,
   and not a bone broken necessarily, the torment would not have been long
   enough to have been pictured by the roasting. So that, take whatever
   punishment you will--take hanging, which sometimes the Romans practised
   in the form of strangling, that mode of punishment does not involve
   shedding of blood, and consequently the requirements would not have
   been answered. And I do think, any intelligent Jew, reading through
   this account of the Passover, and then looking at the crucifixion, must
   be struck by the fact that the penalty and death of the cross by which
   Christ suffered, must have taken in all these three things. There was
   blood-shedding; the long continued suffering--the roasting of torture;
   and then added to that, singularly enough, by God's providence not a
   bone was broken, but the body was taken down from the cross intact.
   Some may say that burning might have answered the matter; but there
   would not have been a shedding of blood in that case, and the bones
   would have been virtually broken in the fire. Besides the body would
   not have been preserved entire. Crucifixion was the only death which
   could answer all of these three requirements. And my faith receives
   great strength from the fact, that I see my Saviour not only as a
   fulfilment of the type, but the only one. My heart rejoices to look on
   him whom I have pierced, and see his blood, as the lamb's blood,
   sprinkled on my lintel and my door-post, and see his bones unbroken,
   and to believe that not a bone of his spiritual body shall be broken
   hereafter; and rejoice, also, to see him roasted in the fire, because
   thereby I see that he satisfied God for that roasting which I ought to
   have suffered in the torment of hell for ever and ever.

   Christian! I would that I had words to depict in better language; but,
   as it is, I give thee the undigested thoughts, which thou mayest take
   home and live upon during the week; for thou wilt find this Paschal
   Lamb to be an hourly feast, as well as supper, and thou mayest feed
   upon it continually, till thou comest to the mount of God, where thou
   shalt see him as he is, and worship him in the Lamb in the midst
   thereof.

   II. HOW WE DERIVE BENEFIT FROM THE BLOOD OF CHRIST. Christ our Passover
   is slain for us. The Jew could not say that; he could say, a lamb, but
   "the Lamb," even "Christ our Passover," was not yet become a victim.
   And here are some of my hearers within these walls to-night who cannot
   say "Christ our Passover is slain for us." But glory be to God! some of
   us can. There are not a few here who have laid their hands upon the
   glorious Scapegoat; and now they can put their hands upon the Lamb
   also, and they can say, "Yes; it is true, he is not only slain, but
   Christ our Passover is slain for us." We derive benefit from the death
   of Christ in two modes: first, by having his blood sprinkled on us for
   our redemption; secondly, by our eating his flesh for food,
   regeneration and sanctification. The first aspect in which a sinner
   views Jesus is that of a lamb slain, whose blood is sprinkled on the
   door-post and on the lintel. Note the fact, that the blood was never
   sprinkled on the threshold. It was sprinkled on the lintel, the top of
   the door, on the side-post, but never on the threshold, for woe unto
   him who trampleth under foot the blood of the Son of God! Even the
   priest of Dagon trod not on the threshold of his god, much less will
   the Christian trample under foot the blood of the Paschal Lamb. But his
   blood must be on our right hand to be our constant guard, and on our
   left to be our continual support. We want to have Jesus Christ
   sprinkled on us. As I told you before, it is not alone the blood of
   Christ poured out on Calvary that saves a sinner; it is the blood of
   Christ sprinkled on the heart. Let us turn to the land of Zoan. Do you
   not think you behold the scene to-night! It is evening. The Egyptians
   are going homeward--little thinking of what is coming. But just as soon
   as the sun is set, a lamb is brought into every house. The Egyptian
   strangers passing by, say, "These Hebrews are about to keep a feast to
   night," and they retire to their houses utterly careless about it. The
   father of the Hebrew house takes his lamb, and examining it once more
   with anxious curiosity, looks it over from head to foot, to see if it
   has a blemish. He findeth none. "My son," he says to one of them,
   "bring hither the bason." It is held. He stabs the lamb, and the blood
   flows into the bason. Do you not think you see the sire, as he commands
   his matronly wife to roast the lamb before the fire! "Take heed," he
   says, "that not a bone be broken." Do you see her intense anxiety, as
   she puts it down to roast, lest a bone should be broken? Now, says the
   father, "bring a bunch of hyssop." A child brings it. The father dips
   it into the blood. "Come here, my children, wife and all, and see what
   I am about to do." He takes the hyssop in his hands, dips it in the
   blood, and sprinkles it across the lintel and the door-post. His
   children say, "What mean you by this ordinance?" He answers, "This
   night the Lord God will pass through to smite the Egyptians, and when
   he seeth the blood upon the lintel and on the two side posts, the Lord
   will pass over the door, and will not suffer the destroyer to come into
   your houses to smite you." The thing is done; the lamb is cooked; the
   guests are set down to it; the father of the family has supplicated a
   blessing; they are sitting down to feast upon it. And mark how the old
   man carefully divides joint from joint, lest a bone should be broken;
   and he is particular that the smallest child of the family should have
   some of it to eat, for so the Lord hath commanded. Do you not think you
   see him as he tells them "it is a solemn night--make haste--in another
   hour we shall all go out of Egypt." He looks at his hands, they are
   rough with labour, and clapping them, he cries, "I am not to be a slave
   any longer." His eldest son, perhaps, has been smarting under the lash,
   and he says, "Son, you have had the task-master's lash upon you this
   afternoon; but it is the last time you shall feel it." He looks at them
   all, with tears in his eyes--"This is the night the Lord God will
   deliver you." Do you see them with their hats on their heads, with
   their loins girt, and their staves in their hands? It is the dead of
   the night. Suddenly they hear a shriek! The father says, "Keep within
   doors, my children; you will know what it is in a moment." Now another
   shriek--another shriek--shriek succeeds shriek: they hear perpetual
   wailing and lamentation. "Remain within," says he, "the angel of death
   is flying abroad." A solemn silence is in the room, and they can almost
   hear the wings of the angel flap in the air as he passes their
   blood-marked door. "Be calm," says the sire, "that blood will save
   you." The shrieking increases. "Eat quickly, my children," he says
   again, and in a moment the Egyptians coming, say, "Get thee hence! Get
   thee hence! We are not for the jewels that you have borrowed. You have
   brought death into our houses." "Oh!" says a mother, "Go! for God's
   sake! go. My eldest son lies dead!" "Go!" says a father, "Go! and peace
   go with you. It were an ill day when your people came into Egypt, and
   our king began to slay your first-born, for God is punishing us for our
   cruelty." Ah! see them leaving the land; the shrieks are still heard;
   the people are busy about their dead. As they go out, a son of Pharoah
   is taken away unembalmed, to be buried in one of the pyramids.
   Presently they see one of their task-master's sons taken away. A happy
   night for them--when they escape! And do you see, my hearers, a
   glorious parallel? They had to sprinkle the blood, and also to eat the
   lamb. Ah! my soul, hast thou e'er had the blood sprinkled on thee?
   Canst thou say that Jesus Christ is thine? It is not enough to say "he
   loved the world, and gave his Son," you must say, "He loved me,, and
   gave himself for me." There is another hour coming, dear friends, when
   we shall all stand before God's bar; and then God will say, "Angel of
   death, thou once didst smite Egypt's first born; thou knowest thy prey.
   Unsheath thy sword." I behold the great gathering, you and I are
   standing amongst them. It is a solemn moment. All men stand in
   suspense. There is neither hum nor murmur. The very stars cease to
   shine lest the light should disturb the air by its motion. All is
   still. God says, "Has thou sealed those that are mine?" "I have," says
   Gabriel; "they are sealed by blood every one of them." Then saith he
   next, "Sweep with thy sword of slaughter! Sweep the Earth! and send the
   unclothed, the unpurchased, the unwashed ones to the pit." Oh! how
   shall we feel beloved, when for a moment we see that angel flap his
   wings? He is just about to fly, "But," will the doubt cross our minds
   "perhaps he will come to me?" Oh! no; we shall stand and look the angel
   full in his face.

   "Bold shall I stand in that great day!

   For who aught to my charge shall lay?

   While through thy blood absolved

   I am From sin's tremendous curse and shame."

   If we have the blood on us, we shall see the angel coming, we shall
   smile at him; we shall dare to come even to God's face and say,

   "Great God! I'm clean! Through Jesus' blood, I'm clean!"

   But if, my hearer, thine unwashen spirit shall stand unshriven before
   its maker, if thy guilty soul shall appear with all its black spots
   upon it, unsprinkled with the purple tide, how wilt thou speak when
   thou seest flash from the scabbard the angel's sword swift for death,
   and winged for destruction, and when it shall cleave thee asunder?
   Methinks I see thee standing now. The angel is sweeping away a thousand
   there. There is one of thy pot companions. There one with whom thou
   didst dance and swear. There another, who after attending the same
   chapel like thee, was a despiser of religion. Now death comes nearer to
   thee. Just as when the reaper sweeps the field and the next ear
   trembles because its turn shall come next, I see a brother and a sister
   swept into the pit. Have I no blood upon me? Then, O rocks! it were
   kind of you to hide me. Ye have no benevolence in your arms. Mountains!
   let me find in your caverns some little shelter. But it is all in vain,
   for vengeance shall cleave the mountains and split the rocks open to
   find me out. Have I no blood? Have I no hope? Ah! no! he smites me.
   Eternal damnation is my horrible portion. The depth of the darkness of
   Egypt for thee, and the horrible torments of the pit from which none
   can escape! Ah! my dear hearers, could I preach as I could wish, could
   I speak to you without my lips and with my heart, then would I bid you
   seek that sprinkled blood, and urge you by the love of your own soul,
   by everything that is sacred and eternal, to labour to get this blood
   of Jesus sprinkled on your souls. It is the blood sprinkled that saves
   a sinner.

   But when the Christian gets the blood sprinkled, that is not all he
   wants. He wants something to feed upon. And, O sweet thought! Jesus
   Christ is not only a Saviour for sinners, but he is food for them after
   they are saved. The Paschal Lamb by faith we eat. We live on it. You
   may tell, my hearers, whether you have the blood sprinkled on the door
   by this: do you eat the Lamb? Suppose for a moment that one of the old
   Jews had said in his heart, "I do not see the use of this feasting. It
   is quite right to sprinkle the blood on the lintel or else the door
   will not be known; but what good is all this inside? We will have the
   lamb prepared, and we will not break his bones; but we will not eat of
   it." And suppose he went and stored the lamb away. What would have been
   the consequence? Why, the angel of death would have smitten him as well
   as the rest, even if the blood had been upon him. And if, moreover,
   that old Jew had said, "there, we will have a little piece of it; but
   we will have something else to eat, we will have some unleavened bread;
   we will not turn the leaven out of our houses, but we will have some
   leavened bread." If they had not consumed the lamb, but had reserved
   some of it, then the sword of the angel would have found the heart out
   as well as that of any other man. Oh! dear hearer, you may think you
   have the blood sprinkled, you may think you are just; but if you do not
   live on Christ as well as by Christ, you will never be saved by the
   Paschal Lamb. "Ah!" say some, "we know nothing of this." Of course you
   don't. When Jesus Christ said, "except ye eat my flesh, and drink my
   blood, ye have no life in you," there were some that said, "This is a
   hard saying, who can heart it?" and many from that time went back--and
   walked no more with him. They could not understand him; but, Christian,
   dost thou not understand it? Is not Jesus Christ thy daily food? And
   even with the bitter herbs, is he not sweet food? Some of you, my
   friends, who are true Christians, live too much on your changing frames
   and feelings, on your experiences and evidences. Now, that is all
   wrong. That is just as if a worshipper had gone to the tabernacle and
   began eating one of the coats that were worn by the priest. When a man
   lives on Christ's righteousness, it is the same as eating Christ's
   dress. When a man lives on his frames and feelings, that is as much as
   if the child of God should live on some tokens that he received in the
   sanctuary that never were meant for food, but only to comfort him a
   little. What the Christian lives on is not Christ's righteousness, but
   Christ; he does not live on Christ's pardon, but on Christ; and on
   Christ he lives daily, on nearness to Christ. Oh! I do love Christ-
   preaching. It is not the doctrine of justification that does my heart
   good, it is Christ, the justifier; it is not pardon that so much makes
   the Christian's heart rejoice, it is Christ the pardoner; it is not
   election that I love half so much as my being chosen in Christ ere
   worlds began; ay! it is not final perseverance that I love so much as
   the thought that in Christ my life is hid, and that since he gives unto
   his sheep eternal life, they shall never perish, neither shall any man
   pluck them out of his hand. Take care, Christian, to eat the Paschal
   Lamb and nothing else. I tell thee man, if thou eatest that alone, it
   will be like bread to thee--thy soul's best food. If thou livest on
   aught else but the Saviour, thou art like one who seeks to live on some
   weed that grows in the desert, instead of eating the manna that comes
   down from heaven. Jesus is the manna. In Jesus as well as by Jesus we
   live. Now, dear friends, in coming to this table, we will keep the
   Paschal Supper. Once more, by faith, we will eat the Lamb, by holy
   trust we will come to a crucified Saviour, and feed on his blood, and
   righteousness, and atonement.

   And now, in concluding, let me ask you, are you hoping to be saved my
   friends? One says, "Well, I don't hardly know; I hope to saved, but I
   do not know how." Do you know, you imagine I tell you a fiction, when I
   tell you that people are hoping to be saved by works, but it is not so,
   it is a reality. In travelling through the country I meet with all
   sorts of characters, but most frequently with self-righteous persons.
   How often do I meet with a man who thinks himself quite godly because
   he attends the church once on a Sunday, and who thinks himself quite
   righteous because he belongs to the Establishment; as a churchman said
   to me the other day, "I am a rigid churchman." "I am glad of that," I
   said to him, "because then you are a Calvinist, if you hold the
   Articles.'" He replied "I don't know about the Articles,' I go more by
   the Rubric.'" And so I thought he was more of a formalist than a
   Christian. There are many persons like that in the world. Another says,
   "I believe I shall be saved. I don't owe anybody anything; I have never
   been a bankrupt; I pay everybody twenty shillings in the pound; I never
   get drunk; and if I wrong anybody at any time, I try to make up for it
   by giving a pound a year to such-and-such a society; I am as religious
   as most people; and I believe I shall be saved." That will not do. It
   is as if some old Jew had said, "We don't want the blood on the lintel,
   we have got a mahogany lintel; we don't want the blood on the
   door-post, we have a mahogany door-post." Ah! whatever it was, the
   angel would have smitten it if it had not had the blood upon it. You
   may be as righteous as you like: if you have not the blood sprinkled,
   all the goodness of your door-posts and lintels will be of no avail
   whatever. "Yes," says another, "I am not trusting exactly there. I
   believe it is my duty to be as good as I can; but then I think Jesus
   Christ's mercy will make up the rest. I try to be as righteous as
   circumstances allow; and I believe that whatever deficiencies there may
   be, Christ will make them up." That is as if a Jew had said, "Child,
   bring me the blood," and then, when that was brought, he had said,
   "bring me a ewer of water;" and then he had taken it and mixed it
   together, and sprinkled the door-post with it. Why, the angel would
   have smitten him as well as anyone else, for it is blood, blood, blood,
   blood! that saves. It is not blood mixed with the water of our poor
   works; it is blood, blood, blood, blood! and nothing else. And the only
   way of salvation is by blood. For, without the shedding of blood there
   is no remission of sin. have precious blood sprinkled upon you, my
   hearers; trust in precious blood; let your hope be in a salvation
   sealed with an atonement of precious blood, and you are saved. But
   having no blood, or having blood mixed with anything else, thou art
   damned as thou art alive--for the angel shall slay thee, however good
   and righteous thou mayest be. Go home, then, and think of this: "Christ
   our Passover is sacrificed for us."
     __________________________________________________________________

                                   The Exodus

   A Sermon

   (No. 55)

   Delivered on Sabbath Morning, December 9, 1855, by the

   REV. C.H. SPURGEON

   At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

   "And it came to pass at the end of the four hundred and thirty years,
   even the selfsame day it came to pass, that all the hosts of the Lord
   went out from the land of Egypt."--Exodus 12:41.

   IT IS our firm conviction and increasing belief, that the historical
   books of Scripture were intended to teach us by types and figures
   spiritual things. We believe that every portion of Scripture history is
   not only a faithful transcript of what did actually happen, but also a
   shadow of what happens spiritually in the dealings of God with his
   people, or in the dispensations of his grace towards the world at
   large. We do not look upon the historical books of Scripture as being
   mere rolls of history, such as profane authors might have written, but
   we regard them as being most true and infallible records of the past,
   and also most bright and glorious foreshadowings of the future, or else
   most wondrous metaphors and marvellous illustrations of things which
   are verily received among us, and most truly felt in the Christian
   heart. We may be wrong--we believe we are not; at any rate, the very
   error has given us instruction, and our mistake has afforded us
   comfort. We look upon the book of Exodus as being a book of types of
   the deliverances which God will give to his elect people: not only as a
   history of what he has done, in bringing them out of Egypt by smiting
   the first-born, leading them through the Red Sea, and guiding them
   through the wilderness, but also as a picture of his faithful dealings
   with all his people, whom by the blood of Christ he separates from the
   Egyptians, and by his strong and mighty hand takes out of the house of
   their bondage and out of the land of their slavery. Last Sabbath
   evening we had the type of the Passover--the Paschal Lamb; and we
   showed you then, how the sprinkled blood, and the eaten lamb, were
   types of the blood applied for our justification, and of the flesh
   received by inward communion with Jesus, the soul living and feeding
   upon him. We now take the Exodus, or the going of the children of
   Israel out of Egypt, as being a type and picture of the going out of
   all the vessels of mercy from the house of their bondage, and the
   deliverance of all the lawful captives from the chains of their cruel
   taskmasters, by sovereign and omnipotent grace, through the Passover of
   our Lord Jesus Christ.

   The land of Egypt is a picture of the house of bondage into which all
   God's covenant people will, sooner or later, be brought on account of
   their sin. All those whom God means to give an inheritance in Canaan,
   he will first take down into Egypt. Even Jesus Christ himself went into
   Egypt before he appeared publicly as a teacher before the world, that
   in his instance, as well as in that of every Christian, the prophecy
   might be fulfilled--"Out of Egypt have I called my Son." Every one who
   enjoys the liberty wherewith Christ doth make us free, must first feel
   the galling bondage of sin. Our wrists must be made to smart by the
   fetters of our iniquity, and our backs must be made to bleed by the
   lash of the law--the taskmaster which drives us to Jesus Christ. There
   is no true liberty which is not preceded by true bondage; there is no
   true deliverance from sin, unless we have first of all groaned and
   cried unto God, as did the people of Israel when in bondage in Egypt.
   We must all serve in the brick-kiln; we must all be wearied with
   toiling among the pots; or otherwise we could never realize that
   glorious verse--"Though ye have lien among the pots, yet shall ye be as
   the wings of a dove covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow
   gold." We must have bondage before liberty; before resurrection there
   must come death; before life there must come corruption; before we are
   brought out of the horrible pit and the miry clay we must be made to
   exclaim, "I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing;" and ere,
   like Jonah, we can be fetched out of the whale's belly, and delivered
   from our sin, we must have been taken down to the bottoms of the
   mountains, with the weeds wrapped about our heads, shuddering under a
   deep sense of our own nothingness and fearing that the earth with her
   bars was about us for ever. Taking this as key, you will see that the
   deliverance out of Egypt is a beautiful picture of the deliverance of
   all God's people from the bondage of the law and the slavery of their
   sins.

   I. First, consider THE MODE OF THEIR GOING OUT. When the children of
   Israel went out of Egypt it is a remarkable thing that they were forced
   out by the Egyptians. Those Egyptians who had enriched themselves with
   their slavery, said, "Get ye hence, for we be all dead men;" they
   begged and entreated them to go; yea, they hurried them forth, gave
   them jewels that they might depart, and made them quit the land. And it
   is a striking thing, that the very sins which oppress the child of God
   in Egypt, are the very things that drive him to Jesus. Our sins makes
   slaves of us while we are in Egypt, and when God the Holy Spirit stirs
   them up against us, how do they beat us with cruel lashes, till our
   soul is worn with extreme bondage; but those very sins, by God's grace,
   are made the means of driving us to the Saviour. The dove fleeth not to
   its cote unless the eagle doth pursue it; so sins like eagles pursue
   the timid soul, making it fly into the clefts of the Rock Christ Jesus
   to hide itself. Once, beloved, our sins kept us from Christ; but now
   every sin drives us to him for pardon. I had not known Christ if I had
   not known sin; I had not known a deliverer, if I had not smarted under
   the Egyptians. The Holy Spirit drives us to Christ, just as the
   Egyptians drove the people out of Egypt.

   Again: the children of Israel went out of Egypt covered with jewels and
   arrayed in their best garments. The Jews have ever on their feast days
   been desirous of wearing jewels and all kinds of goodly apparel; and
   when they were too poor to possess them, they would borrow jewels for
   the purpose. So it was at this remarkable Passover. They had been so
   oppressed that they had kept no festival for many a year; but now they
   all arrayed themselves in their best garments, and at the command of
   God did borrow of the Egyptians jewels of silver, and jewels of gold,
   and raiment; "and the things as they required: and they spoiled the
   Egyptians." Let none say that this was robbery. It would have been, had
   it not been commanded of God; but as a king can set aside his own laws,
   so God is above his laws, and whatsoever he orders is right. Abraham
   would have been guilty of murder in taking up his knife to slay his
   son, had not God commanded him to do so; but the fact of God having
   commanded the action, made it justifiable and right. But, moreover, the
   word "borrowed" here is by the best translators said to mean nothing
   more than that the children of Israel asked them for their jewels, and
   had no intention whatever of returning them, and entered into no
   agreement to do so; and it was most just, that they should do this,
   because they had toiled for the Egyptians for years, without having had
   any remuneration. Sometimes necessity has no law: how much more shall
   that God who is above all necessities be the master of his own laws?
   The great Potentate, the only wise God, the King of kings, hath a right
   to make what laws he pleases; and let not vain man dare to question his
   Maker, when his Maker gives him a command. But the fact is very
   significant. The children of Israel did not go out of Egypt poorly
   clad; they went out with their best clothing on, and moreover, they had
   borrowed jewels of gold, and jewels of silver, and raiment; and they
   went gladly out of the land. Ah! beloved, that is just how a child of
   God comes out of Egypt. He does not come out of his bondage with his
   old garments of self-righteousness on: oh! no; as long as he wears
   those he will always keep in Egypt; but he marches out with the blood
   and righteousness of Jesus Christ upon him, and adorned with the goodly
   graces of the Holy Spirit. Oh! beloved, if you could see a child of
   Israel coming out of the bondage of sin, you would say, "Who is this
   that cometh up from the wilderness?" Is this the poor slave that was
   making bricks without straw? Is this the wretch who had nothing but
   rags and tatters on him? Is this the poor creature whose whole person
   was soiled with the mud of Egypt's river, and who laboured in Goshen's
   land without a wage or pay? Yes, it is he; and now he is arrayed like a
   king, and apparelled as a prince. Lo, each of these men of labour
   cometh like a bridegroom decked for his wedding, and their wives seem
   like royal brides clad in their bridal robes. Every child of God, when
   he comes out of Egypt, is arrayed in goodly apparel.

   "Strangely, my soul, art thou arrayed,

   By the great sacred Three;

   In sweetest harmony of praise.

   Let all thy powers agree."

   Note, moreover, that these people obtained their jewels from the
   Egyptians. God's people never lose anything by going to the house of
   bondage. They win their choicest jewels from the Egyptians. "Strangely
   true it is, sins do me good," said an old writer once, "because they
   drive me to the Saviour; and so I get good by them." Ask the humble
   Christian where he got his humility, and ten to one he will say that he
   got it in the furnace of deep sorrow on account of sin. See another who
   is tender in conscience: where did he get that jewel from? It cam from
   Egypt, I'll be bound. We get more by being in bondage, under conviction
   of sin, that we often do by liberty. That bondage state, under which
   thou art now labouring, thou poor way-worn child of sorrow, shall be
   good for thee; for when thou comest out of Egypt thou wilt steal jewels
   from the Egyptians; thou wilt have won pearls from thy very
   convictions. "Oh!" say some, "I have been for months and years toiling
   under a sense of sin, and cannot get deliverance." Well, I hope you
   will get it soon; but if you do not, you will have gained all the more
   jewels by stopping there, and when you come out, you will very likely
   make the best of Christians. What more noble preacher to sinners than
   John Bunyan? And who suffered more than he did? For years he was
   doubting and hesitating, sometimes thinking that Christ would save him,
   at other times thinking that he was never one of the elect, and
   continually bemoaning himself; but he got jewels while he was in
   bondage that he would never have obtained anywhere else. Who could have
   made a large collection of jewels like Pilgrim's Progress, if he had
   not lived in Egypt? It was because he tarried so long in Egypt that he
   gathered so many jewels. And oh! beloved, let us be content to stop a
   little while in distress; for the jewels that we shall win there will
   adorn us all our lives long, and we shall one night come out of Egypt,
   not with weeping, but with songs and crowns of rejoicing. We shall have
   "the garments of praise for the spirit of heaviness;" the sackcloth
   shall be removed from our loins, and the ashes from our head, and we
   shall march forth decked with jewels, glittering with gold and silver.

   But there is one more thought concerning the way of their coming out;
   and that is, they came out in haste. I think a child of God, whenever
   he has the opportunity of coming out of bondage, will quickly avail
   himself of it. When a man comes to me, and says, "I am under deep
   conviction of sin," and so on, and seems to be very well content,
   talking about to-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, and saying, "I
   can repent when I please, and I can believe when I please," and always
   procrastinating!--Ah! I think to myself, that is not the Lord's
   deliverance, for when his people go forth out of Egypt, they are always
   in a hurry to get out. I never met with a poor sinner under a sense of
   sin, who was not in haste to get his burden off his back. No man has a
   broken heart, unless he wants to have it bound up directly. "To-day if
   ye will hear his voice, harden not your heart," says the Holy Ghost; he
   never say to-morrow; to-day is his continual cry, and every true-born
   Israelite will pant to get out of Egypt, whenever he has the
   opportunity. He will not stop to knead his dough, and make his bread to
   carry with him; but he will carry the unleavened bread on his
   shoulders, he will be in such a hurry to get away. He who hateth the
   noisomeness of the dungeon, longeth to hear the wards of the lock
   creak, that he may find liberty; he who hath been long in the pit
   hasteth to escape; he who hath suffered the task-master's whip fleeth
   like a dove unto his window, that he may find peace and deliverance in
   Christ Jesus.

   II. But having noticed three points of similarity in the emigration of
   the Israelites and the deliverance of God's people, we would lead your
   attention, secondly, to a remark concerning THE MAGNITUDE OF THIS
   DELIVERANCE. Did it never strike you what a wonderful exodus of the
   people of Israel this was? Do you know how many people went out?
   According to the very lowest calculations, there must have been two
   millions and a half, all assembled together in one place, and all
   coming out of the country at one time. And then, besides these, there
   went out with them an exceeding great company--a mixed multitude. The
   number must have been so large that it is impossible to imagine it.
   Suppose the people of London should all go out at once to march through
   a wilderness; it would be a marvellous thing in history, such as we can
   hardly conceive of; but here were, to say the least, two millions of
   people, all at one time coming out from the midst of Egypt, and going
   forth from the country. "They journeyed," it is said, "from Rameses to
   Succoth." Rameses was where they were employed in building a city for
   the king. They stayed in Succoth, or booths. Because such an immense
   multitude could not find houses, they therefore made booths; and hence
   the children of Israel ever afterwards kept "the feast of tabernacles,"
   to commemorate their building of the booths at Succoth, when they first
   of all came out of Egypt. What a mind Moses must have had, to direct so
   great an army; or rather what a spirit must that have been that rested
   on him, so that he could lead them all to one place, and then guide
   them all through the wilderness; if you bear in mind this mighty
   number, you will be astonished to think what a quantity of manna it
   must have required to feed them, and what a stream of water that must
   have been which followed them! Talk of the armies of Xerxes, or the
   host of the Persians; speak of the mighty armies that kings and
   potentates have assembled! Here was an army that outvied them all. But
   oh! beloved, how much grandeur is there in the thought of the
   multitudes Christ redeems with his blood. Christ did not die to save a
   few; "he shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be abundantly
   satisfied." "By his knowledge shall my righteous servant justify many."
   "A multitude which no man can number" shall stand before the throne of
   God and of the Lamb. Oh! wondrous the stars of heaven, nor the dust of
   the earth, nor the sand of the sea; but let us remember that God hath
   promised to Abraham--"As the sand upon the sea shore, even so shall thy
   seed be." "Who can count the dust of Jacob, and the number of the
   fourth part of Israel?" They lick up the earth like water, and the land
   is utterly devoured before them. Oh! mighty God! how great is that
   deliverance which bringeth out a host of thine elect, more countless
   than the stars and as innumerable as the sands upon a thousand shores!
   all hail to thy power that doeth all this!

   You will have another idea of the greatness of this work, when you
   think of the different stations which the children of Israel must have
   occupied. I suppose they were not all equally destitute; they were not
   all toiling in the same brick-kilns, but some of them would be in one
   place, some in another--some working in the king's court, some for the
   meaner Egyptians--dispersed every where; but whatever they might be,
   they all came from hence. If Pharoah had slaves in his halls, they
   marched out the self-same day from his golden-gated palace, at Memphis
   or at Thebes. They all came forth that same day from their different
   situations, and guided by God they all came to one spot, where they
   built their booths, and called it Succoth. As when the autumn doth
   decline, and the winter approacheth, we have seen the chattering
   swallows gather upon the house-top, prepared for distant flights beyond
   the purple sea, where they might find another summer in another land,
   so did these Israelites from all their countries thus assemble, and
   stand together, about to take their flight across a trackless
   wilderness to that land of which God had told them saying, "Behold, I
   will bring you into a land that floweth with milk and honey." Oh! great
   and glorious works of God! "great are thy works, O Lord, and marvellous
   are thy doings; and that my soul knoweth right well."

   I would have you, beloved, particularly remember one thing; and that
   is, that great as this emigration was, and enormous as were the
   multitudes that quitted Egypt, it was only one Passover that set them
   all free. They did not want two celebrations of the supper; they did
   not need two angels to fly through Egypt; it was not necessary to have
   two deliverances: but all in one night, all by the Paschal Lamb, all by
   the Passover supper, they were saved. Look at yonder host above! See ye
   the blood-washed throng of souls, chosen of God and precious? Can you
   tell their number? Can you count the small dust of the beatified ones
   before the throne? Ah! no; but here is a thought for you. They did not
   want two Christs to save them; they did not require two Holy Spirits to
   deliver them; nor did it need two sacrifices to bring them there.

   "Ask them whence their victory came,

   They with united breath

   Ascribe their victory to the Lamb,

   Their triumph in his death."

   One agonizing sacrifice, one death on Calvary, one bloody sweat on
   Gethsemane, one shriek of "It is finished." consummated all the work of
   redemption. Oh! the precious blood of Christ! I love it when I think it
   saves one sinner; but oh! to think of the multitude of sinners that it
   saves! Beloved, we do not think enough of our Lord Jesus Christ; we
   have not half such an estimation of his precious person as we ought to
   have. We do not value his blood at the right price. Why, poor sinner,
   thou art saying this morning, "This blood cannot save me." What! not
   save thee, when it is engaged to save thousands upon thousands, and
   myriads of myriads? Shall the shepherd who gathereth the whole flock
   together, and leadeth them unto the pastures lose a single lamb? Thou
   sayest, perhaps, "I am so little." For that very reason then, thou dost
   not want so much of his power to take care of thee. "But," says one, "I
   am so great a sinner." Ay, then, so much the better, for he "came to
   save sinners, of whom I am chief," said Paul; and he came to save thee.
   Ah! do not fear, ye sons of God; he who brought the Israelites all out
   in one night can bring you all out, though you are in the veriest
   bondage. Perhaps there is one of you who not only has to make bricks
   without straw, but has to make twice as many bricks as any one else,
   you think, and your taskmaster has a whip which goes right round you,
   and cuts the flesh off you every time; you have worse bondage than any
   one, your slavery is more intense, your oven hotter, your pots harder
   to make. Very well, I am glad of it: how sweet liberty will be to thee!
   and I will tell you, you shall not be left in Egypt; for if you were,
   what would old Pharaoh say? "He said he would bring them all out, but
   he has not; there is one left;" and he would parade that poor Israelite
   through the streets, he would take him through Memphis and Thebes, and
   say, "There is one that God would not deliver; there is one I had so
   tight in my grasp that he could not get him out!" Ah! master devil! you
   shall not say that of one of the Lord's people; they shall all be
   there, the great and the small; this unworthy hand shall take the hand
   of the blessed St. Paul; they shall all be in heaven, shall all be
   redeemed, shall all be saved; but all, mark you, through one sacrifice,
   one covenant, one blood, one Passover.

   III. This bring us to speak more fully of THE COMPLETENESS OF THEIR
   DELIVERANCE. Our text says,--"It came to pass at the end of the four
   hundred and thirty years, even the selfsame day it came to pass, that
   all the hosts of the Lord went out from the land of Egypt." Our dear
   Arminian friends think that some of the Lord's people will not come out
   of Egypt, but will be lost at last. Ah! well, as good Hart says--

   "If one poor saint may fall away,

   It follows so may all;"

   and none of us are safe and secure. Therefore, we do not give way to
   that. But all the hosts came out of Egypt, every one of them; not a
   soul was left behind. There is a poor man that was lame. Ah! you see
   him throw away his crutches. There is a poor woman sick; ay, but she
   suddenly rises from her bed. There is another palsied, who can by no
   means lift himself up, but his frame in a moment becomes firm, "for
   there was not one feeble person in all their tribes."--Psalm 105:37.
   There is a poor little babe who knows nothing about it; but still it
   leaves Egypt, carried by its mother. The old greyheaded sire tottered
   not on his staff. Though eighty years of age, yet he was a son of
   Israel, and out he came. There was a youth who had just begun to have
   his shoulders galled; but though he was young the time was come for
   him, and out he came. They all came out, every one of them; there was
   not one left behind. I do not suppose they had any hospitals there; but
   if they had, I am sure they did not leave any of them in the hospital,
   but all were healed in an instant. There was one Israelite who had
   rebelled against the government of Moses, and said, "Who made you a
   judge and a divider over us?" But they did not leave him behind; even
   he came out. All of them came out; nor do we find that there was some
   poor shrivelled creature whose arms and legs were almost useless, and
   who was half an idiot, whose brain was nearly gone, left behind. So
   beloved, if you are "the meanest lamb in Jesus' fold," you are "one in
   Jesus now;" though you have very little learning, and very little
   common sense, you will come out of Egypt. If the Lord has put you there
   in bondage, and you have been made to groan there, he will make you
   sing by-and-by, when you are redeemed from it. There is no fear of your
   being left behind; for if you were, Pharoah would say, "He delivered
   the strong ones, but he was not able to fetch out the weak;" and then
   there would be laughter in hell against the might and omnipotence of
   God. They all came out.

   But not only so; they all had their cattle with them. As Moses said,
   "Not a hoof shall be left behind." They were to have all their goods,
   as well as their persons. What does this teach us? Why, not only that
   all God's people shall be saved, but that all God's people ever had
   shall be restored. All that Jacob ever took down to Egypt shall be
   brought out again. Have I lost a perfect righteousness in Adam? I shall
   have a perfect righteousness in Christ. Have I lost happiness on earth
   in Adam? God will give me much happiness here below in Christ. Have I
   lost heaven in Adam? I shall have heaven in Christ; for Christ came not
   only to seek and to save the people that were lost, but that which was
   lost; that is, all the inheritance, as well as the people; all their
   property. Not the sheep merely, but the good pasture that the sheep had
   lost: not only the prodigal son, but all the prodigal son's estates.
   Everything was brought out of Egypt; not even Joseph's bones were left
   behind. The Egyptians could not say that they had a scrap of the
   Israelites' property--not even one of their kneading troughs, or one of
   their old garments. And when Christ shall have conquered all things to
   himself, the Christian shall not have lost one atom by the toils of
   Egypt, but shall be able to say, "O death where is thy sting? O grave,
   where is thy victory?" O hell, where is thy triumph? Thou has not a
   flag nor a pennon to show of thy victory; there is not a casque or a
   helmet left upon the battle-field; there is not a single trophy which
   thou mayest raise up in hell in scorn of Christ. He hath not only
   delivered his people, but they have gone out with flying colours,
   taking their shields with them. Stand and admire and love the Lord, who
   thus delivers all his people.

   IV. This brings us to notice, in the fourth place, THE TIME WHEN THE
   ISRAELITES CAME OUT OF EGYPT. "It came to pass at the end of four
   hundred and thirty years, even the selfsame day it came to pass, that
   all the hosts of the Lord went out from the land of Egypt." God had
   promised to Abraham that his people should be in bondage four hundred
   and thirty years, and they were not in bondage one day more. As soon as
   God's bond became due, though it had been drawn four hundred and thirty
   years before, he paid the bill; he required no more time to do it in,
   but he did it at once. Christopher Ness says, they had to tarry for the
   fulfillment of the promise till the night came; for though he fulfilled
   it the selfsame day, he made them stay to the end of it, to prove their
   faith. He was wrong there, because scripture days begin at night. "The
   evening and the morning were the second day." So that God did not make
   them wait, but paid them at once. As soon as the day came, beginning
   with our night, as the Jewish day does now, and the scriptural day
   always did--as soon as the clock struck--God paid his bond. We have
   heard of some landlords who come for their rent at twelve o-clock
   precisely. Well, we admire a man's honesty if he pays him exactly at
   that minute; but God is never behind hand in fulfilling his promises,
   not by the ticking of a clock. Though his promise seem to tarry, wait
   for it; you may be mistaken as to the date; if he has promised anything
   on a certain day, he will not keep you waiting till the morrow. The
   selfsame day that the Lord had promised, the Israelites came out. And
   so all the Lord's people shall come out of bondage at the predestined
   moment: and they cannot possibly come out of bondage before the
   appointed time. O thou poor distressed heir of heaven, groaning under
   sin, and seeking rest, but finding none, believe that it is the Lord's
   will that thou shouldst be a little longer where there is a smoking
   furnace. Wait a little he is doing thee good. Like Jesus of old, he is
   speaking hardly to thee, to try thy faith; he is telling thee now that
   thou art a dog, because he wants to hear thee say, "Truth, Lord, but
   the dogs eat of the crumbs." He would not keep thee waiting, if thine
   eagerness did not thereby get fresh vigour; he would not keep thee
   crying, if he did not mean to make it a sign of better grace to you for
   the future. Therefore wait; for you shall come out of Egypt, and have a
   joyous rescue in that day when they shall come with singing unto Zion,
   with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads.

   But now, beloved, we must finish up in a very solemn manner, by
   reminding you of the companions that came out of Egypt with the
   children of Israel. When the children of Israel came out of Egypt,
   there were certain persons in Egypt, dissatisfied with the king--very
   likely culprits, condemned persons, debtors, bankrupts, and such like
   persons, who were tired of their country, and who, as is wittily said
   of those who are transported, "left their country for their country's
   good." But though these people went with the children of Israel, mark
   you, they were not of them. They escaped, but the door was not opened
   to let them out; it was only opened to let out the children of Israel.
   It is said that the mixed multitude fell a lusting; it was the mixed
   multitude that taught them to worship the golden calf; it was the mixed
   multitude that always led them astray. And that mixed multitude have
   their representatives now. There are many men that came out of the land
   of Egypt who never were Israelites; and there are many that join with
   us in church fellowship, and eat that spiritual bread, and drink of
   that spiritual rock that followed them; and yet with many of them God
   is not well-pleased, just as there were many of old with whom he was
   not well-pleased, and who were overthrown in the wilderness. "Ah!" says
   one, "but I thought if they had been in Egypt, certainly if they came
   out they must have been Christians; for you have used the metaphors."
   Ay, yes, but mark how these people were in Egypt. This mixed multitude
   was never in bondage in Egypt. It was Israel that had to feel the
   task-master's whip, and to make the bricks without straw. But these
   fellows had nothing to do. They were Egyptians themselves--true-born
   Egyptians--"heirs of sin and children of wrath;" they never had any
   real bondage, and therefore they could not rejoice as the true
   Israelite did, when they were set free from the yoke of Pharaoh. These
   people are represented amongst us by certain persons, who will tell us,
   "Ah! I know I have been a sinner." That is as much as to say you have
   been an Egyptian, and that is all: "but I cannot say, I have felt my
   sin, and utterly abhored it and wept over it." They come and say, "I am
   a sinner," hear something about Jesus Christ, catch at it with a
   fancied faith--not with the faith that unites with the Lamb and brings
   us true salvation, but with a notional, pretended faith, and they get
   deliverance; and some of these people are marvellously happy; they do
   not have doubts and fears; they are at ease, like Moab; they have not
   been emptied from vessel to vessel. They can tell us about Egypt, of
   course; they know as much about it as the child of God. If the child of
   God describes the brick-kiln, and how they made bricks without straw,
   he has seen it, though he has not felt it; and he can talk about it,
   perhaps better than the poor Israelite; for the poor Israelite has
   sometimes been smitten on the mouth, it may be, so that he stammers,
   and cannot speak so well as the other, who never had a blow. He knows
   all about the bondage; perhaps he has invented some of it, in order to
   try the poor Israelite; and he can describe very accurately the going
   out of Egypt and the journey through the wilderness. But here is the
   difference, mark you, between the Israelites and the Egyptians. The
   Egyptians did not sprinkle the blood on the door-posts; and we do not
   read of the mixed multitude eating the paschal lamb, for it is written,
   "No stranger shall eat thereof." Some persons are continually saying,
   "I believe I am going to heaven;" but they have never sprinkled the
   blood, never eaten the paschal Lamb, never had fellowship with Christ,
   and never had vital union with him.

   O ye members of Christian churches! there are many of you who have a
   feigned experience and a feigned religion. How many there are of you
   who have the externals merely of godliness! ye are white-washed
   sepulchres, outwardly fair and beautiful, like the garnished gardens of
   a cemetery; but inwardly ye are full of dead men's bones and
   rottenness! Be persuaded, I beseech you, to get no deliverance any way
   except by the blood of the Lamb, and by really feasting on Christ. Many
   a man gets a deliverance by stifling his conscience. "Ah!" says one of
   these mixed multitude, "here am I in the prison; and this is the night
   when the children of Israel go out of Egypt; Oh! if I might go out!"
   What does he do? Why, the keeper is frightened; he has lost his eldest
   son, and the prisoner says, "Let me out!" and he bribes the keeper to
   let him go. And there is many a man that get out of Egypt by bribing
   his conscience. "There, master conscience," he says, "I will never get
   drunk any more; I will always go to church; there is my shop, that is
   always open on Sunday--I will put two shutters up, and that is almost
   as good as closing it entirely; and I will not do the business
   myself--I will get a servant to do it for me." And out he comes! But he
   had better remain in Egypt than get out like that. There are some again
   that get out by main force; the keeper falls down dead, and so they get
   out of prison. There are men who not only bribe, but kill their
   conscience; they go so far that their conscience is almost dead, and
   when he is in a fit one day they rush forth, and escape; and so they
   have "peace, peace, where there is no peace." They wrap themselves up
   in the folds of their own delusions, and invent for themselves refuges
   of lies, where they do place their trust. O ye mixed multitude! ye are
   the ruin of the churches; ye set us a lusting; the pure Israelite's
   blood is tainted by union with you; you sit as God's people sit, and
   yet you are not his people; you hear as God's people hear, and yet you
   are "in the gall of bitterness and in the bonds of iniquity." You take
   the sacrament as sweetly as others, while you are eating and drinking
   damnation to yourself; you come to the church-meeting, and you sit in
   the private assembly of the saints; but even when you are there, you
   are nothing but a wolf in sheep's clothing, entering the flock when you
   ought not to be there.

   My dear hearers, do try yourselves, to see whether you are real
   Israelites. Oh! could Christ say to you, "Behold an Israelite indeed,
   in whom there is no guile." Have you the blood on your door-post? Have
   you eaten of Jesus? Do you live on him? Do you have fellowship with
   him? Has God the Holy Ghost brought you out of Egypt? or have you come
   out yourself? Have you found refuge in his dear cross and wounded side?
   If you have, rejoice, for Pharaoh himself cannot bring you back again;
   but if you have not, I pray my Master to dash your peace into atoms,
   fair and lovely as it may be; I beseech him to send the winds of
   conviction and the floods of his wrath, that your house may fall now,
   rather than it should stand to your death, and then, in the last solemn
   hour, the edifice of your own hands should totter. Mixed multitude!
   hear ye this! ye assembled gatherings of professors! "Examine
   yourselves, whether ye be in the faith; prove your-own selves. Know ye
   not your own selves, how that Jesus Christ is in you, except ye be
   reprobates?" But if he be not in you, then are ye reprobates still,
   whom God abhorreth. The Lord bring all his people out of Egypt, and
   deliver all his children from the house of bondage.
     __________________________________________________________________

                                     Heaven

   A Sermon

   (No. 56)

   Delivered on Sabbath Morning, December 16th, 1855, by the

   REV. C.H. SPURGEON

   At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

   "As it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have
   entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for
   them that love him. But God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit;
   for the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God."--1
   Corinthians 2:9-10.

   HOW very frequently verses of Scripture are misquoted! Instead of
   turning to the Bible, to see how it is written, and saying, "How
   readest thou?" we quote from one another; and thus a passage of
   Scripture is handed down misquoted, by a king of tradition, from father
   to son, and passes as current among a great number of Christian
   persons. How very frequently at our prayer meetings do we hear our
   brethren describing heaven as a place of which we cannot conceive! They
   say, "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the
   heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love
   him;" and there they stop, not seeing that the very marrow of the whole
   passage lies in this--"But God hath revealed them unto us by his
   Spirit." So that the joys of heaven (if this passage alludes to heaven,
   which, I take it, is not quite so clear as some would suppose), are,
   after all, not things of which we cannot conceive; for "God hath
   revealed them unto us by his Spirit."

   I have hinted that this passage is most commonly applied to heaven, and
   I shall myself also so apply it in some measure, this morning. But any
   one who reads the connexion will discover that the apostle is not
   talking about heaven at all. He is only speaking of this--that the
   wisdom of this world is not able to discover the things of God--that
   the merely carnal mind is not able to know the deep spiritual things of
   our most holy religion. He says, "We speak the wisdom of God in a
   mystery, even the hidden wisdom, which God ordained before the world
   unto our glory: Which none of the princes of this world knew: for had
   they known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. But as
   it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered
   into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that
   love him. But God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit; for the
   Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God." And then he
   goes on lower down to say, "But the natural man receiveth not the
   things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither
   can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned." I take it,
   that this text is a great general fact, capable of specific application
   to certain cases; and that the great fact is this--that the things of
   God cannot be perceived by eye, and ear, and heart, but must be
   revealed by the Spirit of God; as they are unto all true believers. We
   shall take that thought, and endeavour to expand it this morning,
   explaining it concerning heaven, as well as regards other heavenly
   matters.

   Every prophet who has stood upon the borders of a new dispensation
   might have uttered these words with peculiar force. He might have said,
   as he looked forward to the future, God having touched his eye with the
   anointing eye-salve of the Holy Spirit, "Eye hath not seen, nor ear
   heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things that God
   hath prepared for them that love him; but God hath revealed them unto
   us by his Spirit." We will divide the economy of free grace into
   different dispensations. We commence with the patriarchal. A patriarch,
   who like Abraham was gifted with foresight, might have looked forward
   to the Levitical dispensation, glorious with its tabernacle, its
   Shekinah, its gorgeous veil, its blazing altars; he might have caught a
   glimpse of Solomon's magnificent temple, and even by anticipation heard
   the sacred song ascending from the assembled thousands of Jerusalem; he
   might have seen king Solomon upon his throne, surrounded with all his
   riches, and the people resting in peace and tranquillity in the
   promised land; and he might have turned to his brethren who lived in
   the patriarchal age, and said, "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard,
   neither have entered the heart of man, the things which God hath
   prepared for them that love him' in the next dispensation. Ye know not
   how clearly God will reveal himself in the Paschal Lamb--how sweetly
   the people will be led, and fed, and guided, and directed all the way
   through the wilderness--what a sweet and fair country it is that they
   shall inhabit; Eye hath not seen the brooks that gush with milk, nor
   the rivers that run with honey; ear hath not heard the melodious voices
   of the daughters of Shiloh, nor have entered into the heart of man the
   joys of the men of Zion, but God hath revealed them unto us by his
   Spirit.'"

   And so, moreover, at the close of the Levitical dispensation, the
   prophets might have thus foretold the coming glories. Old Isaiah,
   standing in the midst of the temple, beholding its sacrifices, and the
   dim smoke that went up from them, when his eyes were opened by the
   Spirit of God, said--"Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have
   entered the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for him
   that love him." He saw by faith Christ crucified upon the cross; he
   beheld him weltering in his own blood in Gethsemane's garden; he saw
   the disciples going out of Jerusalem, to preach everywhere the Word of
   God; he marked the progress of Messiah's kingdom, and he looked down to
   these latter days, when every man under his own vine and fig tree doth
   worship God, none daring to make him afraid; and he could well have
   cheered the captives in Babylon in words like these,--"Now ye sit down
   and weep, and ye will not sing in a strange land the songs of Zion; but
   lift up your heads, for your salvation draweth nigh. Your eye hath not
   seen, nor your ear heard, the things which God hath prepared for them
   that love him; but he hath revealed them unto me by his Spirit." And
   now, beloved, we stand on the borders of a new era. The mediatorial
   dispensation is almost finished. In a few more years, if prophecy be
   not thoroughly misinterpreted, we shall enter upon another condition.
   This poor earth of ours, which has been swathed in darkness, shall put
   on her garments of light. She hath toiled a long while in travail and
   sorrow. Soon shall her groanings end. Her surface, which has been
   stained with blood, is soon to be purified by love, and a religion of
   peace is to be established. The hour is coming, when storms shall be
   hushed, when tempests shall be unknown, when whirlwind and hurricane
   shall stay their mighty force, and when "the kingdoms of this world
   shall become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ." But you ask
   me what sort of kingdom that is to be, and whether I can show you any
   likeness thereof. I answer, no; "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard,
   neither have entered the heart of man, the things which God hath
   prepared for them that love him,' in the next, the millenial
   dispensation; "But God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit."
   Sometimes, when we climb upwards, there are moments of contemplation
   when we can understand that verse, "From whence we look for the coming
   of our Lord Jesus Christ, who shall be revealed from heaven," and can
   anticipate that thrice blessed hour, when the King of kings shall put
   on his head the crown of the universe, when he shall gather up sheaves
   of sceptres, and put them beneath his arm--when he shall take the
   crowns from the heads of all monarchs, and welding them into one, shall
   put them on his own head, admist the shouts of ten thousand times ten
   thousand who shall chaunt his high praises. But it is little enough
   that we can guess of its wonders.

   But persons are curious to know what kind of dispensation the
   Millennial one is to be. Will the temple, they ask, be erected in
   Jerusalem? Will the Jews be positively restored to their own land? Will
   the different nations all speak one language? Will they all resort to
   one temple? and ten thousand other questions. Beloved, we cannot answer
   you. "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered the heart
   of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him." We
   do not profess to understand the minutiae of these things. It is enough
   for us to believe that a latter-day glory is approaching. Our eyes
   glisten with joy, in the full belief that it is coming; and our hearts
   swell big at the thought that our Master is to reign over the wide,
   wide world, and to win it for himself. But if you begin questioning us,
   we tell you that we cannot explain it. Just as under the legal
   dispensation there were types and shadows, but the mass of the people
   never saw Christ in them, so there are a great many different things in
   this dispensation which are types of the next, which will never be
   explained till we have more wisdom, more light, and more instruction.
   Just as the enlightened Jew partially foresaw what the Gospel was to be
   by the law, so may we guess the Millennium by the present, but we have
   not light enough: there are few who are taught enough in the deep
   things of God to explain them fully. Therefore we still say of the mass
   of mankind--"Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered the
   heart of man, things which God hath prepared for them that love him.
   But God hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit," in some measure, and
   he will do so more and more, by-and-bye.

   And this brings us to make the application of the subject to heaven
   itself. You see, while it does not expressly mean heaven here, you may
   very easily bring it to bear upon it; for concerning heaven, unto which
   believers are all fast going, we may say "Eye hath not seen, nor ear
   heard, neither have entered the heart of man, the things which God hath
   prepared for them that love him. But God hath revealed them unto us by
   his Spirit."

   Now, beloved, I am about to talk of heaven for this reason: you know, I
   never preach any funeral sermons for anybody, and never intend. I have
   passed by many persons who have died in our church, without having made
   any parade of funeral sermons; but, nevertheless, three or four of our
   friends having departed recently, I think I may speak a little to you
   about heaven, in order to cheer you, and God may thus bless their
   departure. It is to be no funeral sermon, however--no eulogium on the
   dead, and no oration pronounced over the departed. Frequent funeral
   sermons I utterly abhor, and I believe they are not under God's
   sanction and approval. Of the dead we should say nothing but that which
   is good: and in the pulpit we should say very little of that, except,
   perhaps, in the case of some very eminent saint; and then we should say
   very little of the man; but let the "honour be unto him that sitteth
   upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever."

   Heaven--then, what is it? First, what is it not? It is not a heaven of
   the SENSES--"Eye hath not seen it." What glorious things the eye hath
   seen! Have we not seen the gaudy pageantry of pomp crowding the gay
   streets. We have seen the procession of kings and princes; our eyes
   have been feasted with the display of glittering uniforms, of lavished
   gold and jewels, of chariots and of horses; and we have perhaps thought
   that the procession of the saints of God may be dimly shadowed forth
   thereby. But, oh it was but the thought of our poor infant mind, and
   far enough from the great reality. We may hear of the magnificence of
   the old Persian princes, of palaces covered with gold and silver, and
   floors inlaid with jewels; but we cannot thence gather a thought of
   heaven, for "eye hath not seen" it. We have thought, however, when we
   have come to the works of God, and our eye hath rested on them: surely
   we can get some glimpse of what heaven is here. By night we have turned
   our eye up to the blue azure, and we have seen the stars--those
   golden-fleeced sheep of God, feeding on the blue meadow of the sky, and
   we have said, "See! those are the nails in the floor of heaven up
   yonder;" and if this earth has such a glorious covering, what must that
   of the kingdom of heaven be? And when our eye has wandered from star to
   star, we have thought, "Now I can tell what heaven is by the beauty of
   its floor." But it is all a mistake. All that we can see can never help
   us to understand heaven. At another time we have seen some glorious
   landscape; we have seen the white river winding among the verdant
   fields like a stream silver, covered on either side with emerald; we
   have seen the mountain towering to the sky, the mist rising on it, or
   the golden sunrise covering all the east with glory; or we have seen
   the west, again, reddened with the light of the sun as it departed; and
   we have said, "Surely, these grandeurs must be something like heaven;
   we have clapped our hands, and exclaimed--

   "Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood,

   Stand dressed in living green."

   We have imagined that there really were fields in heaven, and that
   things of earth were patterns of things in heaven. It was all a
   mistake:--"Eye hath not seen" it.

   Equally does our text assert that "the ear hath not heard" it. Oh! have
   we not on the Sabbath day sometimes heard the sweet voice of the
   messenger of God, when he has by the Spirit spoken to our souls! We
   knew something of heaven then, we thought. At other times we have been
   entranced with the voice of the preacher, and with the remarkable
   sayings which he has uttered; we have been charmed by his eloquence;
   some of us have known what it is to sit and weep and smile alternately,
   under the power of some mighty man who played with us as skilfully as
   David could have played on his harp; and we have said, "How sweet to
   hear those sounds! how glorious his eloquence! how wonderful his power
   of oratory! Now I think I know something of what heaven is, for my mind
   is so carried away, my passions are so excited, my imagination is so
   elevated, all the powers of my mind are stirred upon so that I can
   think of nothing but of what the preacher is speaking about!" But the
   ear is not the medium by which you can guess anything of heaven. The
   "ear hath not heard" it. At other times perhaps you have heard sweet
   music; and hath not music poured from the lungs of man--that noblest
   instrument in the world--or from some manufacture of harmony, and we
   have thought, "Oh! how glorious this is!" and fancied, "This is what
   John meant in the Revelation--'I heard a voice like many waters, and
   like exceeding great thunders, and I heard the voice of harpers harping
   with their harps;' and this must be something like heaven, something
   like the hallelujahs of the glorified." But ah! beloved, we made a
   mistake. "Ear hath not heard" it.

   Here has been the very ground of that error into which many persons
   have fallen concerning heaven. They have said that they would like to
   go to heaven. What for? For this reason: they looked upon it as a place
   where they should be free from bodily pain. They should not have the
   head-ache or the tooth-ache there, nor any of those diseases which
   flesh is heir to, and whenever God laid his hand upon them they began
   to wish themselves in heaven, because they regarded it as a heaven of
   the senses--a heaven which the eye hath seen or the ear heard. A great
   mistake; for although we shall have a body free from pain, yet it is
   not a heaven where our senses shall indulge themselves. The labourer
   will have it, that heaven is a place,

   Where on a green and flowery mount

   His weary soul shall sit.

   Another will have it that heaven is a place where he shall eat to the
   full, and his body shall be satisfied. We may use these as figures; but
   we are so degenerate that we are apt to build a fine Mahometan heaven,
   and to think, there shall we have all the delights of the flesh; there
   shall we drink from bowls of nectared wine; there shall we lavishly
   indulge ourselves, and our body shall enjoy every delight of which it
   is capable. What a mistake for us to conceive such a thing! Heaven is
   not a place for the delight of mere sense; we shall be raised not a
   sensual body, but a spiritual body. We can get no conceptions of heaven
   through the senses; they must always come through the Spirit. That is
   our first thought. It is not a heaven to be grasped by the senses.

   But, secondly, it is not a heaven of the IMAGINATION. Poets let their
   imaginations fly with loosened wings, when they commence speaking of
   heaven. And how glorious are their descriptions of it! When we have
   read them, we say, "And is that heaven? I wish I was there." And we
   think we have some idea of heaven by reading books of poetry. Perhaps
   the preacher weaves the filigree work of fancy, and builds up in a
   moment by his words charming palaces, the tops of which are covered
   with gold, and the walls are ivory. He pictures to you lights brighter
   than the sun; a place where spirits flap their bright wings, where
   comets flash through the sky. He tells you of fields where you may feed
   on ambrosia, where no henbane groweth, but where sweet flowers cover
   the meads. And then you think you have some idea of heaven: and you sit
   down and say, "It is sweet to hear that man speak; he carried me so
   away; he made me think I was there; he gave me such conceptions as I
   never head before; he worked on my imagination." And do you know, there
   is not a greater power than imagination. I would not give a farthing
   for a man who has not imagination; he is of no use, if he wishes to
   move the multitude. If you were to take away my imagination I must die.
   It's a little heaven below, to imagine sweet things. But never think
   that imagination can picture heaven. When it is most sublime when it is
   freest from the dust of earth, when it is carried up by he greatest
   knowledge, and kept steady by the most extreme caution, imagination
   cannot picture heaven. "It hath not entered the heart of man, the
   things which God hath prepared for them that love him." Imagination is
   good, but not to picture to us heaven. Your imaginary heaven you will
   find by-and-by to be all a mistake; though you may have piled up fine
   castles, you will find them to be castles in the air, and they will
   vanish like thin clouds before the gale. For imagination cannot make a
   heaven. "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered the
   heart of man to conceive" it.

   Our next point is, that it is not a heaven of the INTELLECT. Men who
   take to themselves the title of intelligent, and who very humbly and
   modestly call themselves philosophers, generally describe heaven as a
   place where we shall know all things; and their grandest idea of heaven
   is, that they shall discover all secrets there. There the rock which
   would not tell its origin shall bubble forth its history; there the
   star which would not tell its date, and could not be made to whisper of
   its inhabitants, shall at once unravel all its secrets; there the
   animal, the fashion of which could scarcely be guessed at, so long had
   it been buried amongst other fossils in the earth, shall start up
   again, and it shall be seen of what form and shape it really
   was:--there the rocky secrets of this our earth that they never could
   discover will be opened to them; and they conceive that they shall
   travel from one star to another star, from planet to planet, and fill
   their enobled intellect, as they now delight to call it, with all kinds
   of human knowledge. They reckon that heaven will be to understand the
   works of the Creator: and concerning such men as Bacon and other great
   philosophers, of whose piety we generally have very little evidence, we
   read at the end of their biographies--"He has now departed, that noble
   spirit which taught us such glorious things here, to sip at the
   fountain of knowledge, and have all his mistakes rectified, and his
   doubts cleared up." But we do not believe anything of the kind.
   Intellect! thou knowest it now! "It hath not entered into the heart of
   man." It is high; what canst thou know? It is deep; what canst thou
   understand? It is only the Spirit that can give you a guess of heaven.

   Now we come to the point--"He hath revealed it unto us by his Spirit."
   I think this means, that it was revealed unto the apostles by the
   Spirit, so that they wrote something of it in the Holy Word; but as you
   all believe that, we will only hint at it, and pass on. We think also
   that it refers to every believer, and that every believer does have
   glimpses of heaven below, and that God does reveal heaven to him, even
   whilst on earth, so that he understands what heaven is, in some
   measure. I love to talk of the Spirit's influence on man. I am a firm
   believer in the doctrine of impulse, in the doctrine of influence, in
   the doctrine of direction, in the doctrine of instruction by the Holy
   Spirit; and I believe him to be an interpreter, one of a thousand, who
   reveals unto man his own sinfulness, and afterwards teaches him his
   righteousness in Christ Jesus. I know there are some who abuse that
   doctrine, and ascribe every text that comes into their heart as given
   by the Spirit. We have heard of a man who, passing by his neighbour's
   wood, and having none in his own house, fancied he should like to take
   some. The text crossed his mind--"In all these things Job sinned not."
   He said, "There is an influence from the Spirit; I must take that man's
   wood." Presently, however, conscience whispered, "Thou shalt not
   steal;" and he remembered then that no text could have been put into
   his heart by the Spirit, if it excused sin or led him into it. However
   we do not discard the doctrine of impulse, because some people make a
   mistake; and we shall have a little of it this morning--a little of the
   teaching of God's gracious Spirit, whereby he reveals unto us what
   heaven is.

   First of all, we think a Christian gets a gaze of what heaven is, when
   in the midst of trials and troubles he is able to cast all his care
   upon the Lord, because he careth for him. When waves of distress, and
   billows of affliction pass over the Christian, there are times when his
   faith is so strong that he lies down and sleeps, though the hurricane
   is thundering in his ears, and though billows are rocking him like a
   child in its cradle, though the earth is removed, and the mountains are
   carried into the midst of the sea, he says, "God is our refuge and
   strength, a very present help in trouble." Famine and desolation come;
   but he says, "Though the fig tree shall not blossom, neither shall
   there be fruit on the vine, though the labour of the olive shall fail,
   and the field shall yield no increase, yet will I trust in the Lord,
   and stay myself on the God of Jacob." Affliction smites him to the
   ground; he looks up, and says, "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in
   him." The blows that are given to him are like the lashing of a whip
   upon the water, covered up immediately, and he seems to feel nothing.
   It is not stoicism; it is the peculiar sleep of the beloved. "So he
   giveth his beloved sleep." Persecution surrounds him; but he is
   unmoved. Heaven is something like that--a place of holy calm and
   trust--

   "That holy calm, that sweet repose,

   Which none but he who feels it knows.

   This heavenly calm within the breast

   Is the dear pledge of glorious rest,

   Which for the church of God remains,

   The end of cares, the end of pains."

   But there is another season in which the Christian has heaven revealed
   to him; and that is, the season of quiet contemplation. There are
   precious hours, blessed be God, when we forget the world--times and
   seasons when we get quite away from it, when our weary spirit wings its
   way far, far, from scenes of toil and strife. There are precious
   moments when the angel of contemplation gives us a vision. He comes and
   puts his finger on the lip of the noisy world; he bids the wheels that
   are continually rattling in our ears be still; and we sit down, and
   there is a solemn silence of the mind. We find our heaven and our God;
   we engage ourselves in contemplating the glories of Jesus, or mounting
   upwards towards the bliss of heaven--in going backward to the great
   secrets of electing love, in considering the immutability of the
   blessed covenant, in thinking of what wind which "bloweth where it
   listeth," in remembering our own participation of that life which
   cometh from God, in thinking of our blood-bought union with the Lamb,
   of the consummation of our marriage with him in realms of light and
   bliss, or any such kindred topics. Then it is that we know a little
   about heaven. Have ye never found, O ye sons and daughters of gaiety, a
   holy calm come over you at times, in reading the thoughts of your
   fellowmen? But oh! how blessed to come and read the thoughts of God,
   and work, and weave them out in contemplation. Then we have a web of
   contemplation that we wrap around us like an enchanted garment, and we
   open our eyes and see heaven. Christian! when you are enabled by the
   Spirit to hold a season of sweet contemplation, then you can say--"But
   he hath revealed them unto us by his Spirit;" for the joys of heaven
   are akin to the joys of contemplation, and the joys of a holy calm in
   God. But there are times with me--I dare say there may be with some of
   you--when we do something more than contemplate--when we arise by
   meditation above thought itself, and when our soul, after having
   touched the Pisgah of contemplation by the way, flies positively into
   the heavenly places in Christ Jesus. There are seasons when the Spirit
   not only stands and flaps his wings o'er the gulf, but positively
   crosses the Jordan and dwells with Christ, holds fellowship with
   angels, and talks with spirits--gets up there with Jesus, clasps him in
   his arms, and cries, "My beloved is mine, and I am his; I will hold
   him, and will not let him go." I know what it is at times to lay my
   beating head on the bosom of Christ with something more than
   faith--actually and positively to get hold of him; not only to take him
   by faith, but actually and positively to feed on him; to feel a vital
   union with him, to grasp his arm, and feel his very pulse beating. You
   say. "Tell it not to unbelievers; they will laugh!" Laugh ye may; but
   when we are there we care not for your laughter, if ye should laugh as
   loud as devils; for one moment's fellowship with Jesus would recompense
   us for it all. Picture not fairy lands; this is heaven, this is bliss.
   "He hath revealed it unto us by his Spirit."

   And let not the Christian, who says he has very little of this
   enjoyment be discouraged. Do not think you cannot have heaven revealed
   to you by the Spirit; I tell you, you can, if you are one of the Lord's
   people. And let me tell some of you, that one of the places where you
   may most of all expect to see heaven is at the Lord's table. There are
   some of you, my dearly beloved, who absent yourselves from the supper
   of the Lord on earth; let me tell you in God's name, that you are not
   only sinning against God, but robbing yourselves of a most inestimable
   privilege. If there is one season in which the soul gets into closer
   communion with Christ than another, it is at the Lord's table. How
   often have we sang there,

   "Can I Gethesemane forget?

   Or there thy conflicts see,

   Thine agony and bloody sweat,

   And not remember thee?

   Remember thee and all thy pains,

   And all thy love to me,--

   Yes, while a pulse, or breath remains,

   I will remember thee."

   And then you see what an easy transition it is to heaven:--

   "And when these failing lips grow dumb,

   And thought and memory flee;

   When thou shalt in thy kingdom come,

   Jesus, remember me."

   O my erring brethren, ye who live on, unbaptized, and who receive not
   this sacred supper, I tell you not that they will save you--most
   assuredly they will not, and if you are not saved before you receive
   them they will be an injury to you;--but if you are the Lord's people,
   why need you stay away? I tell you, the Lord's table is so high a place
   that you can see heaven from it very often. You get so near the cross
   there, you breathe so near the cross, that your sight becomes clearer,
   and the air brighter, and you see more of heaven there than anywhere
   else. Christian, do not neglect the supper of thy Lord; for it thou
   dost, he will hide heaven from thee, in a measure.

   Again, how sweetly do we realize heaven, when we assemble in our
   meetings for prayer. I do not know how my brethren feel at prayer
   meetings; but they are so much akin to what heaven is, as a place of
   devotion, that I really think we get more ideas of heaven by the Spirit
   there, than in hearing a sermon preached, because the sermon
   necessarily appeals somewhat to the intellect and the imagination. But
   if we enter into the vitality of prayer at our prayer meetings, then it
   is the Spirit that reveals heaven to us. I remember two texts that I
   preached from lately at our Monday evening meeting, which were very
   sweet to some of our souls. "Abide with us, for the day is far spent,"
   and another, "By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth: I
   sought him and found him." Then indeed we held some foretaste of
   heaven. Master Thomas would not believe that his Lord was risen. Why?
   Because he was not at the last prayer-meeting; for we are told that
   Thomas was not there. And those who are often away from devotional
   meetings are very apt to have doubting frames; they do not get sights
   of heaven, for they get their eye-sight spoiled by stopping away.

   Another time when we get sights of heaven is in extraordinary closet
   seasons. Ordinary closet prayer will only make ordinary Christians of
   us. It is in extraordinary seasons, when we are led by God to devote,
   say an hour, to earnest prayer--when we feel an impulse, we scarce know
   why, to cut off a portion of our time during the day to go alone. Then,
   beloved, we kneel down, and begin to pray in earnest. It may be that we
   are attacked by the devil; for when the enemy knows we are going to
   have a great blessing, he always makes a great noise to drive us away;
   but if we keep at it, we shall soon get into a quiet frame of mind, and
   hear him roaring at a distance. Presently you get hold of the angel,
   and say, "Lord, I will not let thee go, except thou bless me." He asks
   your name. You begin to tell him what you name was:

   "Once a sinner, near despair,

   Sought thy mercy-seat by prayer;

   Mercy heard and set him free;

   Lord, that mercy came to me."

   You say, "What is thy name, Lord?" He will not tell you. You hold him
   fast still; at last he deigns to bless you. That is certainly some
   foretaste of heaven, when you feel alone with Jesus. Let no man know
   your prayers; they are between God and yourselves; but if you want to
   know much of heaven, spend some extra time in prayer; for God then
   reveals it to us by his Spirit.

   "Behold, ye despisers, and wonder, and perish." You have been saying in
   your hearts, "The prophet is a fool, and this spiritual man is mad." Go
   away and say these things; but be it known unto you, that what ye style
   madness is to us wisdom and what ye count folly "is the wisdom of God
   in a mystery, even the hidden wisdom." And if there is a poor penitent
   here this morning, saying, "Ah! sir, I get visions enough of hell, but
   I do not get visions of heaven;" poor penitent sinner, thou canst not
   have any visions of heaven, unless thou lookest through the hands of
   Christ. The only glass through which a poor sinner can see bliss is
   that formed by the holes in Jesus' hands. Dost thou not know, that all
   grace and mercy was put into the hand of Christ, and that it never
   could have run out to thee unless his hand had been bored through in
   crucifixion. He cannot hold it from thee, for it will run through; and
   he cannot hold it in his heart, for he has got a rent in it made by the
   spear. Go and confess your sin to him, and he will wash you, and make
   you whiter than snow. If you feel you cannot repent, go to him and tell
   him so, for he is exalted to give repentance, as well as remission of
   sins. Oh! that the spirit of God might give you true repentance and
   true faith; and then saint and sinner shall meet together, and both
   shall not only know what "eye hath not seen, nor ear heard;" but

   "Then shall we see, and hear, and know

   All we desired or wished below,

   And every power find sweet employ

   In that eternal world of joy."

   Till that time we can only have these things revealed to us by the
   Spirit; and we will seek more of that, each day we live.
     __________________________________________________________________

                      The Incarnation and Birth of Christ

   A Sermon

   (No. 57)

   Delivered on Sabbath Morning, December 23rd, 1855, by the

   REV. C.H. SPURGEON

   At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

   "But thou, Beth-lehem Ephratah, though thou be little among the
   thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is
   to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth have been from of old, from
   everlasting."--Micah 5:2.

   THIS is the season of the year when, whether we wish it or not, we are
   compelled to think of the birth of Christ. I hold it to be one of the
   greatest absurdities under heaven to think that there is any religion
   in keeping Christmas-day. There are no probabilities whatever that our
   Saviour Jesus Christ was born on that day, and the observance of it is
   purely of Popish origin; doubtless those who are Catholics have a right
   to hallow it, but I do not see how consistent Protestants can account
   it in the least sacred. However, I wish there were ten or a dozen
   Christmas-days in the year; for there is work enough in the world, and
   a little more rest would not hurt labouring people. Christmas-day is
   really a boon to us; particularly as it enables us to assemble round
   the family hearth and meet our friends once more. Still, although we do
   not fall exactly in the track of other people, I see no harm in
   thinking of the incarnation and birth of the Lord Jesus. We do not wish
   to be classed with those

   "Who with more care keep holiday

   The wrong, than others the right way."

   The old Puritans made a parade of work on Christmas-day, just to show
   that they protested against the observance of it. But we believe they
   entered that protest so completely, that we are willing, as their
   descendants, to take the good accidentally conferred by the day, and
   leave its superstitions to the superstitious.

   To proceed at once to what we have to say to you: we notice, first, who
   it was that sent Christ forth. God the Father here speaks, and says,
   "Out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be the ruler in
   Israel." Secondly, where did he come to at the time of his incarnation?
   Thirdly, what did he come for? "To be ruler in Israel." Fourthly, had
   he ever come before? Yes, he had. "Whose goings forth have been from of
   old, from everlasting."

   I. First, then, WHO SENT JESUS CHRIST? The answer is returned to us by
   the words of the text. "Out of thee" saith Jehovah, speaking by the
   mouth of Micah, I out of thee shall he come forth unto me." It is a
   sweet thought that Jesus Christ, did not come forth without his
   Father's permission, authority, consent, and assistance. He was sent of
   the Father, that he might be the Saviour of men. We are, alas! too apt
   to forget, that while there are distinctions as to the persons in the
   Trinity, there are no distinctions of honor; and we do very frequently
   ascribe the honor of our salvation, or at least the depths of its mercy
   and the extremity of its benevolence, more to Jesus Christ than we do
   to the Father. This is a very great mistake. What if Jesus came? Did
   not his Father send him? If he was made a child did not the Holy Ghost
   beget him? If he spake wondrously, did not his Father pour grace into
   his lips, that he might be an able minister of the new covenant? If his
   Father did forsake him when he drank the bitter cup of gall, did he not
   love him still? and did he not, by-and by, after three days, raise him
   from the dead, and at last receive him up on high, leading captivity
   captive? Ah! beloved, he who knoweth the Father, and the Son, and the
   Holy Ghost as he should know them, never setteth one before another; he
   is not more thankful to one than the other; he sees them at Bethlehem,
   at Gethsemane, and on Calvary, all equally engaged in the work of
   salvation. "He shall come forth unto me." O Christian, hast thou put
   thy confidence in the man Christ Jesus? Hast thou placed thy reliance
   solely on him? And art thou united with him? Then believe that thou art
   united unto the God of heaven; since to the man Christ Jesus thou art
   brother and holdest closest fellowship, thou art linked thereby with
   God the Eternal, and "the Ancient of days" is thy Father and thy
   friend. "He shall come forth unto me". Did you never see the depth of
   love there was in the heart of Jehovah, when God the Father equipped
   his Son for the great enterprise of mercy? There had been a sad day in
   Heaven once before, when Satan fell, and dragged with him a third of
   the stars of heaven, and when the Son of God launching from his great
   right hand the Omnipotent thunders, dashed the rebellious crew to the
   pit of perdition; but if we could conceive a grief in heaven, that must
   have been a sadder day, when the Son of the Most High left his Father's
   bosom, where he had lain from before all worlds "Go," saith the Father,
   "and thy Father's blessing on thy head!" Then comes the unrobing. How
   do angels crowd around to see the Son of God take off his robes He laid
   aside his crown; he said, "My father, I am Lord over all, blessed for
   ever, but I will lay my crown aside, and be as mortal men are." He
   strips himself of his bright vest of glory; "Father," he says, "I will
   wear a robe of clay, just such a men wear." Then he takes off all those
   jewels wherewith he was glorified; he lays aside his starry mantles and
   robes of light, to dress himself in the simple garments of the peasant
   of Galilee. What a solemn disrobing that must have been! And next, can
   you picture the dismissal! The angels attend the Saviour through the
   streets, until they approach the doors: when an angel cries, "Lift up
   your heads, O ye gates, and be ye lifted up ye everlasting doors, and
   let the king of glory through!" Oh! methinks the angels must have wept
   when they lost the company of Jesus--when the Sun of Heaven bereaved
   them of all its light. But they went after him. They descended with
   him; and when his spirit entered into flesh and he became a babe, he
   was attended by that mighty host of angels, who after they had been
   with him to Bethlehem's manger, and seen him safely, laid on his
   mother's breast, in their journey upwards appeared to the shepherds and
   told them that he was born king of the Jews. The Father sent him!
   Contemplate that subject. Let your soul get hold of it, and in every
   period of his life think that he suffered what the Father willed; that
   every step of his life was marked with the approval of the great I AM.
   Let every thought that you have of Jesus be also connected with the
   eternal, ever-blessed God; for "he," saith Jehovah, "shall come forth
   unto me." Who sent him, then? The answer is, his Father.

   II. Now, secondly, WHERE DID HE COME TO? A word or two concerning
   Bethlehem. It seemed meet and right that our Saviour should be born in
   Bethlehem and that because of Bethlehem's history, Bethlehem's name,
   and Bethlehem's position--little in Judah.

   1. First, it seemed necessary that Christ should be born in Bethlehem,
   because of Bethlehem's history. Dear to every Israelite was the little
   village of Bethlehem. Jerusalem might outshine it in splendour; for
   there stood the temple, the glory of the whole earth, and "beautiful
   for situation, the joy of the whole earth was Mount Zion;" yet around
   Bethlehem there clustered a number of incidents which always made it a
   pleasant resting-place to every Jewish mind; and even the Christian
   cannot help loving Bethlehem. The first mention, I think, that we have
   of Bethlehem is a sorrowful one. There Rachel died. If you turn to the
   35th of Genesis you will find it said in the 16th verse--"And they
   journeyed from Bethel; and there was but a little way to come to
   Ephrath; and Rachel travailed, and she had hard labour. And it came to
   pass, when she was in hard labour, that the midwife said unto her, Fear
   not; thou shalt have this son also. And it came to pass, as her soul
   was in departing, (for she died) that she called his name Ben-oni: but
   his father called him Benjamin. And Rachel died, and was buried in the
   way to Ephrath, which is Bethlehem. And Jacob set a pillar upon her
   grave, that is the pillar of Rachel's grave unto this day." A singular
   incident this--almost prophetic. Might not Mary have called her own son
   Jesus, her Ben-oni; for he was to be the child of Sorrow? Simeon said
   to her--"Yea, a sword shall pierce through thine own soul also, that
   the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed." But while she might have
   called him Ben-oni, what did God his Father call him? Benjamin, the son
   of my right hand. Ben-oni was he as a man; Benjamin as to his Godhead.
   This little incident seems to be almost a prophecy that
   Ben-oni--Benjamin, the Lord Jesus, should be born in Bethlehem. But
   another woman makes this place celebrated. That woman's name was Naomi.
   There lived at Bethlehem in after days, when, perhaps, the stone that
   Jacob's fondness had raised had been covered with moss and its
   inscription obliterated, another woman named Naomi. She too was a
   daughter of joy, and yet a daughter of bitterness. Naomi was a woman
   whom the Lord had loved and blessed, but she had to go to a strange
   land; and she said, "Call me not Naomi (pleasant) but let my name be
   called Mara (bitter) for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with
   me." Yet was she not alone amid all her losses, for there cleaved unto
   her Ruth the Moabitess, whose Gentile blood should unite with the pure
   untainted stream of the Jew, and should thus bring forth the Lord our
   Saviour, the great king both of Jews and Gentiles. That very beautiful
   book of Ruth had all its scenery laid in Bethlehem. It was at Bethlehem
   that Ruth went forth to glean in the fields of Boaz; it was there that
   Boaz looked upon her, and she bowed herself before her lord; it was
   there her marriage was celebrated; and in the streets of Bethlehem did
   Boaz and Ruth receive a blessing which made them fruitful so that Boaz
   became the father of Obed, and Obed the father of Jesse, and Jesse the
   father of David. That last fact gilds Bethlehem with glory--the fact
   that David was born there--the mighty hero who smote the Philistine
   giant, who led the discontented of his land away from the tyranny of
   their monarch, and who afterwards, by a full consent of a willing
   people, was crowned king of Israel and Judah. Bethlehem was a royal
   city, because the kings were there brought forth. Little as Bethlehem
   was, it was much to be esteemed; because it was like certain
   principalities which we have in Europe, which are celebrated for
   nothing but for bringing forth the consorts of the royal families of
   England. It was right, then, from history, that Bethlehem should be the
   birth-place of Christ.

   2. But again: there is something in the name of the place. "Bethlehem
   Ephratah." The word Bethlehem has a double meaning. It signifies "the
   house of bread," and "the house of war." Ought not Jesus Christ to be
   born in "the house of bread?" He is the Bread of his people, on which
   they feed. As our fathers ate manna in the wilderness, so do we live on
   Jesus here below. Famished by the world, we cannot feed on its shadows.
   Its husks may gratify the swinish taste of worldlings, for they are
   swine; but we need something more substantial, and in that blest bread
   of heaven, made of the bruised body of our Lord Jesus, and baked in the
   furnace of his agonies, we find a blessed food. No food like Jesus to
   the desponding soul or to the strongest saint. The very meanest of the
   family of God goes to Bethlehem for his bread; and the strongest man,
   who eats strong meat, goes to Bethlehem for it. House of Bread! whence
   could come our nourishment but from thee? We have tried Sinai, but on
   her rugged steeps there grow no fruits, and her thorny heights yield no
   corn whereon we may feed. We have repaired even to Tabor itself, where
   Christ was transfigured, and yet there we have not been able to eat his
   flesh and drink his blood. But Bethlehem, thou house of bread, rightly
   wast thou called; for there the bread of life was first handed down for
   man to eat. And it is also called "the house of war;" because Christ is
   to a man "the house of bread," or else "the house of war." While he is
   food to the righteous he causeth war to the wicked, according to his
   own word-- "Think not that I am come to send peace on the earth; I am
   not come to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set a man at
   variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother, and
   the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. And a man's foes shall
   be they of his own household." Sinner! if thou dost not know Bethlehem
   as "the house of bread," it shall be to thee a "house of war." If from
   the lips of Jesus thou dost never drink sweet honey--if thou art not
   like the bee, which sippeth sweet luscious liquor from the Rose of
   Sharon, then out of the selfsame mouth there shall go forth against
   thee a two-edged sword; and that mouth from which the righteous draw
   their bread, shall be to thee the mouth of destruction and the cause of
   thine ill. Jesus of Bethlehem, house of bread and house of war, we
   trust we know thee as our bread. Oh! that some who are now at war with
   thee might hear in their hearts, as well as in their ears the song--

   "Peace on earth, and mercy mild.

   God and sinners reconciled."

   And now for that word Ephratah That was the old name of the place which
   the Jews retained and loved. The meaning of it is, "fruitfulness," or
   "abundance." Ah! well was Jesus born in the house of fruitfulness; for
   whence cometh my fruitfulness and any fruitfulness, my brother, but
   from Bethlehem? Our poor barren hearts ne'er produced one fruit, or
   flower, till they were watered with the Saviour blood. It is his
   incarnation which fattens the soil of our hearts. There had been
   pricking thorns on all the ground, and mortal poisons, before be came;
   but our fruitfulness comes from him. "I am like a green fir-tree; from
   thee is my fruit found." "All my springs are in thee." If we be like
   trees planted by the rivers of water, bringing forth our fruit in our
   season, it is not because we were naturally fruitful, but because of
   the rivers of water by which we were planted. It is Jesus that makes us
   fruitful. "If a man abide in me," he says, "and my words abide him, he
   shall bring forth much fruit." Glorious Bethlehem Ephratah! Rightly
   named! Fruitful house of bread--the house of abundant provision for the
   people of God!

   3. We notice, next, the position of Bethlehem. It is said to be "little
   among the thousands of Judah." Why is this? Because Jesus Christ always
   goes among little ones. He was born in the little one "among the
   thousands of Judah." No Bashan's high hill, not on Hebron's royal
   mount, not in Jerusalem's palaces. but the humble, yet illustrious,
   village of Bethlehem. There is a passage in Zechariah which teaches us
   a lesson:--lt is said that the man on the red horse stood among the
   myrtle-trees. Now the myrtle-trees grow at the bottom of the hill; and
   the man on the red horse always rides there. He does not ride on the
   mountain-top; he rides among the humble in heart. "With this man will I
   dwell, saith the Lord, with him who is of a humble and contrite spirit,
   and who trembleth at my word." There are some little ones here this
   morning--"little among the thousands of Judah." No one ever heard your
   name, did they? If you were buried, and had your name on your
   tombstone, it would never be noticed. Those who pass by would say, "it
   is nothing to me: I never knew him." You do not know much of yourself,
   or think much of yourself; you can scarcely read, perhaps. Or if you
   have some talent and ability, you are despised amongst men; or, if you
   are not despised by them, you despise yourself. You are one of the
   little ones. Well, Christ is always born in Bethlehem among the little
   ones. Big hearts never get Christ inside of them; Christ lieth not in
   great hearts, but in little ones. Mighty and proud spirits never have
   Jesus Christ, for he cometh in at low doors, but he will not come in at
   high ones. He who hath a broken heart, and a low spirit, shall have the
   Saviour, but none else. He healeth not the prince and the king, but
   "the broken in heart, and he bindeth up their wounds." Sweet thought!
   He is the Christ of the little ones. "Thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, though
   thou be little among the thousands of Judah yet out of thee shall he
   come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel."

   We cannot pass away from this without another thought here, which is,
   how wonderfully mysterious was that providence which brought Jesus
   Christ's mother to Bethlehem at the very time when she was to be
   delivered! His parents were residing at Nazareth; and what should they
   want to travel at that time for? Naturally, they would have remained at
   home; it was not at all likely that his mother would have taken journey
   to Bethlehem while in so peculiar a condition; but Caesar Augustus
   issues a decree that they are to be taxed. Very well, then, let them be
   taxed at Nazareth. No; it pleases him that they should all go to their
   city. But why should Caesar Augustus think of it just at that
   particular time? Simply because, while man deviseth his way, the king's
   heart is in the hand of the Lord. Why, what a thousand chances, as the
   world has it, met together to bring about this event! First of all,
   Caesar quarrels with Herod; one of the Herods was deposed; Caesar says,
   "I shall tax Judea, and make it a province, instead of having it for a
   separate kingdom. Well, it must be done. But when is it to be done?
   This taxing, it is said, was first commenced when Cyreneus was
   governor. But why is the census to be taken at that particular
   period--suppose, December? Why not have had it last October and why
   could not the people be taxed where they were living? Was not their
   money just as good there as anywhere else? It was Caesar's whim; but it
   was God's decree. Oh! we love the sublime doctrine of eternal absolute
   predestination. Some have doubted its being consistent with the free
   agency of man. We know well it is so, and we never saw any difficulty
   in the subject; we believe metaphysicians have made difficulties; we
   see none ourselves. It is for us to believe, that man does as he
   pleases, yet notwithstanding he always does as God decrees. If Judas
   betrays Christ, "thereunto he was appointed;" and if Pharaoh hardens
   his heart, yet, "for this purpose have I raised thee up, for to show
   forth my power in thee." Man doth as he wills; but God maketh him do as
   he willeth, too. Nay, not only is the will of man under the absolute
   predestination of Jehovah; but all things, great or little, are of him.
   Well hath the good poet said, "Doubtless the sailing of a cloud hath
   Providence to its pilot; doubtless the root of an oak is gnarled for a
   special purpose, God compasseth all things, mantling the globe like
   air." There is nothing great or little, that is not from him. The
   summer dust moves in its orbit, guided by the same hand which rolls the
   stars along; the dewdrops have their father, and trickle on the rose
   leaf as God bids them; yea, the sear leaves of the forest, when hurled
   along by the tempest, have their allotted position where they shall
   fall, nor can they go beyond it. In the great, and in the little, there
   is God--God in everything, working all things according to the counsel
   of his own will; and though man seeks to go against his Maker, yet he
   cannot. God hath bounded the sea with a barrier of sand; and if the sea
   mount up wave after wave, yet it shall not exceed its allotted channel.
   Everything is of God; and unto him. who guideth the stars and wingeth
   sparrows, who ruleth planets and yet moveth atoms, who speaks thunders
   and yet whispers zephyrs, unto him be glory; for there is God in
   everything,

   III. This brings us to the third point: WHAT DID JESUS COME FOR? He
   came to be "ruler in Israel." A very singular thing is this, that Jesus
   Christ was said to have been "born the king of the Jews." Very few have
   ever been "born king." Men are born princes, but they are seldom born
   kings. I do not think you can find an instance in history where any
   infant was born king. He was the prince of Wales, perhaps, and he had
   to wait a number of years, till his father died, and then they
   manufactured him into a king, by putting a crown on his head; and a
   sacred chrism, and other silly things; but he was not born a king. I
   remember no one who was born a king except Jesus; and there is emphatic
   meaning in that verse that we sing

   "Born thy people to deliver;

   Born a child, and yet a king."

   The moment that he came on earth he was a king. He did not wait till
   his majority that he might take his empire; but as soon as his eye
   greeted the sunshine he was a king; from the moment that his little
   hands grasped anything, they grasped a sceptre, as soon as his pulse
   beat, and his blood began to flow, his heart beat royally, and his
   pulse beat an imperial measure, and his blood flowed in a kingly
   current. He was born a king. He came "to be ruler in Israel. "Ah!" says
   one, "then he came in vain, for little did he exercise his rule; he
   came unto his own, and his own received him not;' he came to Israel and
   he was not their ruler, but he was despised and rejected of men,' cast
   off by them all, and forsaken by Israel, unto whom he came." Ay, but
   "they are not all Israel who are of Israel," neither because they are
   the seed of Abraham shall they all be called. Ah, no! He is not ruler
   of Israel after the flesh, but he is the ruler of Israel after the
   spirit. Many such have obeyed him. Did not the apostles bow before him,
   and own him as their king? And now, doth not Israel salute him as their
   ruler? Do not all the seed of Abraham after the spirit, even all the
   faithful, for he is "the father of the faithful," acknowledge that unto
   Christ belong the shields of the mighty, for he is the king of the
   whole earth? Doth he not rule over Israel? Ay, verily he doth; and
   those who are not ruled over by Christ are not of Israel. He came to be
   a ruler over Israel. My brother, hast thou submitted to the sway of
   Jesus? Is he ruler in thine heart, or is he not? We may know Israel by
   this: Christ is come into their hearts, to be ruler over them. "Oh!"
   saith one, "I do as I please, I was never in bondage to any man." Ah!
   then thou hatest the rule of Christ. "Oh!" says another, "I submit
   myself to my minister, to my clergyman, or to my priest, and I think
   that what he tells me is enough, for he is my ruler." Dost thou? Ah!
   poor slave, thou knowest not thy dignity; for nobody is thy lawful
   ruler but the Lord Jesus Christ. "Ay," says another, "I have professed
   his religion, and I am his follower." But doth he rule in thine heart?
   Doth he command thy will? Doth he guide thy judgment? Dost thou ever
   seek counsel at his hand in thy difficulties? Art thou desirous to
   honor him, and to put crowns upon his heart? Is he thy ruler? If so,
   then thou art one of Israel; for it is written, "He shall come to be
   ruler in Israel." Blessed Lord Jesus! thou art ruler in thy people's
   hearts, and thou ever shalt be; we want no other ruler save thyself,
   and we will submit to none other. We are free, because we are the
   servants of Christ; we are at liberty, because he is our ruler, and we
   know no bondage and no slavery, because Jesus Christ alone is monarch
   of our hearts. He came "to be ruler in Israel;" and mark you, that
   mission of his is not quite fulfilled yet, and shall not be till the
   latter-day glories. In a little while you shall see Christ come again,
   to be ruler over his people Israel, and ruler over them not only as
   spiritual Israel, but even as natural Israel, for the Jews shall be
   restored to their land, and the tribes of Jacob shall yet sing in the
   halls of their temple; unto God there shall yet again be offered Hebrew
   songs of praise, and the heart of the unbelieving Jew shall be melted
   at the feet of the true Messias. In a short time, he who at his birth
   was hailed king of the Jews by Easterns, and at his death was written
   king of the Jews by a Western, shall be called king of the Jews
   everywhere--yes, king of the Jews and Gentiles also--in that universal
   monarchy whose dominion shall be co-extensive with the habitable globe,
   and whose duration shall be coeval with time itself. He came to be a
   ruler in Israel, and a ruler most decidedly he shall be, when he shall
   reign among his people with his ancients gloriously.

   IV. And now, the last thing is, DID JESUS CHRIST EVER COME BEFORE? We
   answer, yes: for our text says, "Whose goings forth have been of old,
   from everlasting."

   First, Christ has had his goings forth in his Godhead. "From
   everlasting." He has not been a secret and a silent person up to this
   moment. That new-born child there has worked wonders long ere now; that
   infant slumbering in its mother's arms is the infant of to-day, but it
   is the ancient of eternity; that child who is there hath not made its
   appearance on the stage of this world; his name is not yet written in
   the calendar of the circumcised; but still though you wist it not, "his
   goings forth have been of old, from everlasting."

   1. Of old he went forth as our covenant head in election, "according as
   he hath chosen us in Him, before the foundation of the world."

   Christ be my first elect, he said,

   Then chose our souls in Christ our Head."

   2. He had goings forth for his people, as their representative before
   the throne, even before they were begotten in the world. It was from
   everlasting that his mighty fingers grasped the pen, the stylus of
   ages, and wrote his own name, the name of the eternal Son of God; it
   was from everlasting that he signed the compact with his Father, that
   he would pay blood for blood, wound for wound, suffering for suffering,
   agony for agony, and death for death, in the behalf of his people; it
   was from everlasting that he gave himself up, without a murmuring word,
   that from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot he might sweat
   blood, that he might be spit upon, pierced, mocked, rent asunder,
   suffer the pain of death, and the agonies of the cross. His goings
   forth as our Surety were from everlasting. Pause, my soul, and wonder!
   Thou hadst goings forth in the person of Jesus from everlasting. Not
   only when thou wast born into the world did Christ love thee, but his
   delights were with the sons of men before there were any sons of men.
   Often did he think of them; from everlasting to everlasting he had set
   his affection upon them. What! believer, has he been so long about thy
   salvation, and will he not accomplish it? Has he from everlasting been
   going forth to save me, and will he lose me now? What! has he had me in
   his hand, as his precious jewel, and will he now let me slip between
   his precious fingers? Did he choose me before the mountains were
   brought forth, or the channels of the deep scooped out, and will he
   lose me now? Impossible!

   "My name from the palms of his hands

   Eternity cannot erase;

   Impress'd on his heart it remains,

   In marks of indelible grace."

   I am sure he would not love me so long, and then leave off loving me.
   If he intended to be tired of me, he would have been tired of me long
   before now. If he had not loved me with a love as deep as hell and as
   unutterable as the grave, it he had not given his whole heart to me, I
   am sure he would have turned from me long ago. He knew what I would be,
   and he has had long time enough to consider of it; but I am his choice,
   and there is an end of it; and unworthy as I am, it is not mine to
   grumble, if he is but contented with me. But he is contented with
   me--he must be contented with me--for he has known me long enough to
   know my faults. He knew me before I knew myself; yea, he knew me before
   I was myself. Long before my members were fashioned they were written
   in his book, "when as yet there were none of them," his eyes of
   affection were set on them. He knew how badly I would act towards him,
   and yet he has continued to love me;

   "His love in times past forbids me to think.

   He'll leave me at last in trouble to sink."

   No; since "his goings forth were of old from everlasting," they will be
   "to everlasting."

   Secondly, we believe that Christ has come forth of old, even to men, so
   that men have beheld him. I will not stop to tell you that it was Jesus
   who walked in the garden of Eden in the cool of the (lay, for his
   delights were with the sons of men; nor will I detain you by pointing
   out all the various ways in which Christ came forth to his people in
   the form of the angel of the covenant, the Paschal Lamb, the and ten
   thousand types with which the sacred history is so replete; but I will
   rather point you to four occasions when Jesus Christ our Lord has
   appeared on earth as a man, before his great incarnation for our
   salvation. And, first, I beg to refer you to the 18th chapter of
   Genesis, where Jesus Christ appeared to Abraham, of whom we read, "The
   Lord appeared unto him in the plains of Mamre: and he sat in the tent
   door in the heat of the day; and he lift up his eyes and looked, and
   lo, three men stood by him; and when he saw them, he ran to meet them
   from the tent door, and bowed himself toward the ground. "But whom did
   he bow to? He said "My Lord,"only to one of them. There was one man
   between the other two, the most conspicuous for his glory, for he was
   the God-man Christ; the other two were created angels, who for a time
   had assumed the appearance of men. But this was the man Christ Jesus.
   "And he said, My Lord, if now I have found favour in thy sight, pass
   not away, I pray thee, from thy servant: Let a little water, I pray
   you, be fetched, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the
   tree." You will notice that this majestic man, this glorious person,
   stayed behind to talk with Abraham. In the 22nd verse it is said,--And
   the men turned their faces from thence and went towards Sodom;" that
   is, two of them, as you will see in the next chapter--"but Abraham
   stood yet before the Lord." You will notice that this man, the Lord,
   held sweet fellowship with Abraham, and allowed Abraham to plead for
   the city he was about to destroy. He was in the positive form of man;
   so that when he walked the streets of Judea it was not the first time
   that he was a man; lie was so before, in "the plain of Mamre, in the
   heat of the day." There is another instance-his appearing to Jacob,
   which you have recorded in the 32nd chapter of Genesis and the 24th
   verse. All his family were gone, "And Jacob was left alone, and there
   wrestled a man with him until the breaking of the day. And when he saw
   that he prevailed not against him, he touched the hollow of his thigh;
   and the hollow of Jacob's thigh was out of joint, as he wrestled with
   him. And he said, Let me go, for the day breaketh. And he said, I will
   not let thee go, unless thou bless me. And he said unto him, What is
   thy name? And be said, Jacob. And he said, Thy name shall be called no
   more Jacob, but Israel; for as a prince hast thou power with God." This
   was a man, and yet God. "For as a prince bast thou power with God and
   with men, and bast prevailed." And Jacob knew that this man was God,
   for he says in the 30th verse: ,for I have seen God face to face. and
   my life is preserved." Another instance you will find in the book of
   Joshua When Joshua had crossed the narrow stream of Jordan, and had
   entered the promised land, and was about to drive out the Canaanites,
   lo! this mighty man-God appeared to Joshua. In the 5th chapter, at the
   13th verse, we read- And it came to pass, when Joshua was by Jericho,
   that he lifted up his eyes and looked, and, behold, there stood a man
   over against him with his sword drawn in his hand, and Joshua went unto
   him, and (like a brave warrior, as he was,) said unto him, Art thou for
   us, or for our adversaries? And he said, Nay; but as Captain of the
   host of the Lord am I now come." And Joshua saw at once that there was
   divinity in him; for Joshua fell on his face to the earth, and did
   worship, and said to him, "What saith my lord unto his servant?" Now,
   if this had been a created angel lie would have reproved Joshua, and
   said, "I am one of your fellow servants." But no; "the captain of the
   Lord's host said unto Joshua, Loose thy shoe from thy foot; for the
   place whereon thou standest is holy. And Joshua did so." Another
   remarkable instance is that recorded in the third chapter of the book
   of Daniel, where we read the account of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego
   being cast into the fiery furnace, which was so fierce that it
   destroyed the men who threw them in. Suddenly the king said to his
   counsellors- Did not we cast three men bound into the midst of the
   fire? They answered and said unto the king, True, king. He answered and
   said, Lo, I see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire, and
   they have no hurt; and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God."
   How should Nebuchadnezzar know that? Only that there was something so
   noble and majestic in the way in which that wondrous Man bore himself,
   and some awful influence about him, who so marvellously broke the
   consuming teeth of that biting an I devouring flame, so that it could
   not so much as singe the children of God. Nebuchadnezzar recognized his
   humanity. He did not say,"I see three men and an angel," but he said,
   "I see four positive men, and the form of the fourth is like the Son of
   God.' You see, then, what is meant by his goings forth being I from
   everlasting:'

   Observe for a moment here, that each of these four great occurrences
   happened to the saints when they were engaged in very eminent duty, or
   when they were about to be engaged in it. Jesus Christ does not appear
   to his saints every day. He did not come to see Jacob till he was in
   affliction; he did not visit Joshua before he was about to be engaged
   in a righteous war. It is only in extraordinary seasons that Christ
   thus manifests himself to his people. When Abraham interceded for
   Sodom, Jesus was with him, for one of the highest and noblest
   employments of a Christian is that of intercession, and it is when he
   is so engaged that he will be likely to obtain a sight of Christ. Jacob
   was engaged in wrestling, and that is a part of a Christian's duty to
   which some of you never did attain; consequently, you do not have many
   visits from Jesus. It was when Joshua was exercising bravery that the
   Lord met him. So with Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego: they were in the
   high places of persecution, on account of their adherence to duty, when
   he came to them, and said, "I will be with you, passing through the
   fire." There are certain peculiar places we must enter, to meet with
   the Lord. We must be in great trouble, like Jacob; we must be in great
   labour, like Joshua; we must have great intercessory faith, like
   Abraham; we must be firm in the performance of duty, like Shadrach
   Meshach, and Abednego; or else we shall not know him ,whose goings
   forth have been of old, from everlasting;" or, if we know him, we shall
   not be able to "comprehend with all the saints what is the height, and
   depth, and length, and breadth of the love of Christ, which passeth
   knowledge,"

   Sweet Lord Jesus! thou whose goings forth were of old, even from
   everlasting, thou hast not left thy goings forth yet. Oh! that thou
   wouldst go forth this day, to cheer the faint, to help the weary, to
   bind up our wounds, to comfort our distresses! Go forth, we beseech
   thee, to conquer sinners, to subdue hard hearts-to break the iron gates
   of sinners' lusts, and cut the iron bars of their sirs in pieces! O
   Jesus! go forth; and when thou goest forth, come thou to me! Am I a
   hardened sinner? Come thou to me; I want thee:

   "Oh! let thy grace my heart subdue;

   I would be led in triumph too;

   A willing captive to my Lord,

   To sing the honours of thy word."

   Poor sinner! Christ has not left going forth yet. And when he goes
   forth, recollect, he goes to Bethlehem. Have you a Bethlehem in your
   heart? Are you little? will go forth to you yet. Go home and seek him
   by earnest prayer. If you have been made to weep on account of sin, and
   think yourself too little to be noticed, go home, little one! Jesus
   comes to little ones; his goings forth were of old, and he is going
   forth now. He will come to your poor old house; he will come to your
   poor wretched heart; he will come, though you are in poverty, and
   clothed in rags, though you are destitute, tormented, and afflicted; he
   will come, for his goings forth have been of old from everlasting.
   Trust him, trust him, trust him; and he will go forth to abide in your
   heart for ever.
     __________________________________________________________________

                                Canaan on Earth

   A Sermon

   (No. 58)

   Delivered on Sabbath Morning, December 30, 1855, by the

   REV. C.H. SPURGEON

   At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

   "For the land whither thou goest in to possess it, is not as the land
   of Egypt, from whence ye came out, where thou sowedst thy seed, and
   wateredst it with thy foot, as a garden of herbs; but the land whither
   ye go to possess it, is a land of hills and valleys, and drinketh water
   of the rain of heaven; a land which the Lord thy God careth for; the
   eyes of the Lord thy God are always upon it, from the beginning of the
   year, even unto the end of the year."--Deuteronomy 11:10-12.

   IT HAS generally been considered, that the passage of the Jordan by the
   Israelites is typical of death, and that Canaan is a fitting
   representation of heaven. We believe that in some sense it is true, and
   we do fondly cherish the household words of those hymns which describe
   our passing through Jordan's billows, and landing safe on Canaan's
   side; but we do think that the allegory does not hold, and that Jordan
   is not a fair exhibition of death, nor the land of Canaan a fair
   picture of the sweet land beyond the swelling flood which the Christian
   gains after death. For mark you, after the children of Israel had
   entered into Canaan, they had to fight with their enemies. It was a
   land filled with foes. Every city they entered they had to take by
   storm, unless a miracle dismantled it. They were warriors, even in the
   land of Canaan, fighting for their own inheritance; and though each
   tribe had its lot marked out, yet they had to conquer the giant Anakim,
   and encounter terrible hosts of Canaanites. But when we cross the river
   of death we shall have no foes to fight, no enemies to encounter.
   Heaven is a place already prepared for us; out of it the evil ones have
   long ago been driven; there brethren shall await us with pleasing
   faces, kind hands shall clasp ours, and loving words shall alone be
   heard. The shout of war shall ne'er be raised by us in heaven; we shall
   throw our swords away, and the scabbards with them. No battles with
   warriors there, no plains besoaked with blood, no hills where robbers
   dwell, no inhabitants with chariots of iron. It is "a land flowing with
   milk and honey;" and it dreams not of the foeman of Canaan of old. We
   think the church has lost the beauty of Scripture, in taking Jordan to
   mean death, and that a far fuller meaning is the true allegory to be
   connected with it. Egypt, as we have lately observed to you, was
   typical of the condition of the children of God while they are in
   bondage to the law of sin. There they are made to work unceasingly,
   without wages or profit, but continually subject to pains. We said,
   again, that the coming up out of Egypt was the type of the deliverance
   which every one of God's people enjoys, when by faith he strikes the
   blood of Jesus on his lintel and his doorpost, and spiritually eats the
   paschal lamb; and we can also tell you now, that the passage through
   the wilderness is typical of that state of hoping, and fearing, and
   doubting, and wavering, and inconstancy, and distrust, which we usually
   experience between the period when we come out of Egypt, and attain
   unto the full assurance of faith.

   Many of you, my dear hearers, are really come out of Egypt; but you are
   still wandering about in the wilderness. "We that have believed do
   enter into rest;" but you, though you have eaten of Jesus, have not so
   believed on him as to have entered into the Canaan of rest. You are the
   Lord's people, but you have not come into the Canaan of assured faith,
   confidence, and hope, where we wrestle no longer with flesh and blood,
   but with principalities and powers in the heavenly places in Christ
   Jesus--when it is no longer a matter of doubt with us whether we shall
   be saved, but we feel that we are saved. I have known believers who
   have existed for years almost without a doubt as to their acceptance.
   They have enjoyed a sweet and blessed reliance on Christ; they have
   come into Canaan; they have fed on the good old corn of the land; they
   now "lie passive in his hand, and know no will but his." They have such
   a sweet oneness with their blessed Lord Jesus, that they lay their head
   on his breast all day long, and they have scarcely any nights; they
   almost always live in days; for though they have not attained unto his
   perfect image, they feel themselves so manifestly in union with himself
   that they cannot and dare not doubt. They have entered into rest; they
   are come into Canaan. Such is the condition of the child of God, when
   he has come to an advanced stage in his experience, when God has so
   given him grace upon grace that he can say, "Yea though I walk through
   the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for thou art
   with me: thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

   We will read this passage again; and bear in mind what I understand it
   to mean. It sets before the Christian's state, after he has attained to
   this faith and confidence in God; when he is no longer careful about
   the things of this life, when he does not water the ground with his
   foot, but has come to a land that drinketh in the rain of heaven. "The
   land whither thou goest in to possess it,"--the land of high and holy
   Christian privilege--"is not as the land of Egypt, from whence ye came
   out, where thou sowedst thy seed, and wateredst it with thy foot, as a
   garden of herbs; but the land, whither ye go to possess it, is a land
   of hills and valleys, and drinketh water of the rain of heaven; a land
   which the Lord thy God careth for: the eyes of the Lord thy God are
   always upon it, from the beginning of the year even unto the end of the
   year." We shall have this morning to note, first of all, the difference
   between the Christian's temporal condition and that of the Egyptian
   worldling; and secondly, the special privilege vouchsafed to those who
   have entered into Canaan--that the eyes of the Lord their God are
   always upon their land, "from the beginning of the year, even unto the
   end of the year."

   I. True religion makes a difference not only in a man, but in a man's
   condition; it affects not only his heart, but his state--not only his
   nature, but his very standing in society. The Lord thy God cares not
   only for Israel, but for Canaan, where Israel dwells. God has not only
   a regard to the elect, but to their habitation, and not only so, but to
   all their affairs and circumstances. The moment I become a child of
   God, not only is my heart changed and my nature renewed, but my very
   position becomes different; the very beasts of the field are in league
   with me, and the stones thereof are at peace. My habitation is now
   guarded by Jehovah; my position in this world is no longer that of a
   needy mendicant--I have become a gentleman-pensioner on the providence
   of God; my position, which was that of a bondslave in Egypt, is now
   become that of an inheritor in Canaan. In this difference of the
   condition of the Christian and the worldling, we shall mark three
   things.

   First, the Christian's temporal condition is different to that of the
   worldling; for the worldling looks to secondary causes, the Christian
   looks to heaven; he gets his mercies thence. Read the text, "The land,
   whither thou goest in to possess it, is not as the land of Egypt, from
   whence ye came out, where thou sowedst thy seed, and wateredst it with
   thy foot, as a garden of herbs." The land of Egypt has never had any
   rain from heaven; it has been always watered from earthly sources. At a
   certain season the river Nile overflowed its banks, and covered the
   land; a stock of water was then accumulated in artificial reservoirs,
   and afterwards let out in canals, and allowed to run in little trenches
   through the fields. They had to water it as a garden of herbs. All
   their dependence was on the nether springs; they looked to the river
   Nile as the source of all their plenty, and even worshipped it. But the
   land to which you are coming is not watered from a river; "it drinketh
   water of the rain of heaven." Your fertility shall not come from such
   artificial sources as canals and trenches; you shall be fed from the
   water that descends from heaven! You see how beautifully this pictures
   a worldling and a Christian. Look at the worldling; what is his
   dependence? It is all upon the water below; he looks only to the water
   that flows from the river of this world. "Who will show us any good?"
   Some rely upon what they call chance--(a river the source of which,
   like the source of the Nile, is never known;) and though continually
   disappointed, they still persevere in trusting to this unknown stream.
   Others, who are more sensible, trust to their hard work and honesty;
   they look to the source of that river, and they trace it to a fountain
   of human erection graced by a statue of labour. Ah! that river may yet
   fail you; it may not overflow its banks, and you may be starved. But, O
   Christian, what doest thou rely upon? Thy land "drinketh water of the
   rain of heaven;" thy mercies come not from the hand of chance; thy
   daily bread cometh not so much from thy industry as from thy heavenly
   Father's care; thou seest stamped upon every mercy heaven's own
   inscription, and every blessing comes down to thee perfumed with the
   ointment and spikenard, and the myrrh of the ivory palaces, whence God
   dispenses his bounties. Here is the difference between the assured
   Christian and the mere worldling: the one trusts to natural causes--the
   other "looks through nature up to nature's God." and seeth his mercies
   as coming down fresh from heaven.

   Beloved, let us improve this thought, by showing you the great value of
   it. Do you know a man who sees his mercies coming from heaven, and not
   from earth? How much sweeter all his mercies are! There is nothing in
   the world that tastes as sweet to the school-boy as that which comes
   from home. Those who live at the school may make him ever such good
   things, but he cares nothing for anything like that which comes from
   home. So will the Christian. All his mercies are sweeter because they
   are home-mercies. I love God's favours on earth; for everything I eat
   and drink tastes of home. And oh! how sweet to think, "That bread, my
   Father's hand moulded; that water, my Father droppeth out from his hand
   in the gentle rain." I can see everything coming from his hand. The
   land in which I live is not like the land of Egypt, fed by a river; but
   it "drinketh water of the rain of heaven." All my mercies come from
   above. Don't you like, beloved, to see the print of your Father's
   fingers on every mercy? You have heard of the haddock having the mark
   of the thumb of Peter on it! It is a fiction, of course; but I am sure
   all the fish that we get out of the sea of providence are marked by
   Jesus' fingers. Happy the lot of that man who receives everything as
   coming from God, and thanks his Father for it all! It makes anything
   sweet, when he knows it comes from heaven.

   This thought, again, has a great tendency to keep us from an
   overweening love of the world. If we think that all our mercies come
   from heaven, we shall not be so likely to love the world, as we shall
   be if we think that they are the natural products of the soil. The
   spies went to Eschol, and fetched thence an immense cluster of the
   grapes which grew there; but you do not find that the people said,
   "These are fine fruits, therefore we will stay here." No: they saw that
   the grapes came from Canaan, and thereupon they said, "Let us go on,
   and possess them." And so, when we get rich mercies, if we think they
   come from the natural soil of this earth, we feel,

   "Here I will for ever stay."

   But if we know that they come from a foreign clime, we are anxious to
   go

   "Where our dear Lord his vineyard keeps,

   And all the clusters grow."

   Christian, then, rejoice, rejoice! Thy mercies come from heaven;
   however small they be, still they are thy Father's gift; not one comes
   to thee without his knowledge, and his permission. Bless the Lord,
   therefore, that thou art come to Canaan; where thy "land drinketh water
   of the rain of heaven!"

   My dearly beloved, just stop here, and console yourselves, if you are
   in trouble. "Oh!" says one, "I know not what I shall do: where to turn
   myself I cannot tell." You are not like your brother, who is sitting
   near you; he has a competency; he has a river of Egypt to depend on;
   you have not any; nevertheless, there is the sky still. If you were to
   tell a farmer, "You have no rivers to water your lands." "Well," he
   would say, "I don't want them either; for I have clouds up there, and
   the clouds are enough." So, Christian, if thou hast nothing to depend
   on down below, turn thine eyes up there, and say, "The land, whither I
   go in to possess it, is not as the land of Egypt, from whence I came
   out, where I sowed my seed, and watered it with my foot, as a garden of
   herbs; but the land, whither I go to possess it, is a land of hills and
   valleys, and drinketh water of the rain of heaven."

   2. But now comes the second distinction, and that is, a difference in
   the toilsomeness of their lives. The worldly man, just like the
   Israelites in Egypt, has to water his land with his foot. Read the
   passage:--"For the land, whither thou goest in to possess it, is not as
   the land of Egypt, from whence ye came out, where thou sowedst thy
   seed, and wateredst it with thy foot as a garden of herbs." This
   alludes, possibly to the practice, amongst all eastern nations where
   the land is irrigated, of letting out a certain quantity of water into
   a trench, and then having small gutters dug in the gardens, to compel
   the water to run along different parts of the ground. Sometimes one of
   these gutters might be broken; and then the gardener would press the
   mould against it with his foot, to keep the water in its proper
   channel. But I have inclined to think that the passage alludes to the
   method which those eastern countries have of pumping up the water by a
   tread-wheel, and so watering the land with their foot. However that may
   be, it means that the land of Egypt was watered with extraordinary
   labour, in order to preserve it from sterility. "But," says Moses, "the
   land, to which ye are going, is not a land which you will have to water
   with your foot. The water will come spontaneously; the land will be
   watered by the rain of heaven. You can sit in your own houses, or under
   your own vine, or under your own fig tree, and God himself shall be
   your irrigator. You shall sit still, and in quietness shall ye possess
   your souls.'" Now, here is a difference between the godly and
   ungodly:--the ungodly man toils. Suppose his object is ambition; he
   will labor and labor, and labor, and spend his very life, until he
   obtains the desire pinnacle. Suppose it is wealth; how will he emaciate
   his frame, rob his body of its needed sleep, and take away the
   nourishment his frame requires, in order that he may accumulate riches!
   And if it is learning, how will he burn his eyes out with the flame of
   his hot desire, that he may understand all knowledge; how will he allow
   his frame to become weak, and weary, and wan, by midnight watchings,
   till the oil wherewith he lighteth himself by night comes from his own
   flesh, and the marrow of his bones furnisheth the light for his spirit!
   Men will in this way labour, and toil, and strive. But not so the
   Christian. No: God "giveth his beloved sleep." His "strength is to sit
   still." He knows what it is to fulfil the command of Paul:--"I would
   have you without carefulness." We can take things as God gives them,
   without all this toil and labour. I have often admired the advice of
   old Cineas to Pyrrhus. Old story saith, that when Pyrrhus, king of
   Epirus, was making preparation for his intended expedition into Italy,
   Cineas, the philosopher, took a favourable opportunity of addressing
   him thus: "The Romans, sir, are reported to be a warlike and victorious
   people; but if God permit us to overcome them, what use shall we make
   of the victory?" "Thou askest," said Pyrrhus, "a thing that is
   self-evident. The Romans once conquered, no city will resist us; we
   shall then be masters of all Italy."

   Cineas added--"And having subdued Italy, what shall we do next?"
   Pyrrhus not yet aware of his intentions, replied, "Sicily next
   stretches out her arms to receive us." "That is very probable," said
   Cineas, "but will the possession of Sicily put an end to the war?" "God
   grant us success in that," answered Pyrrhus, "and we shall make these
   only the forerunners of greater things, for then Libra and Carthage
   will soon be ours: and these things being completed, none of our
   enemies can offer any further resistance." "Very true," added Cineas,
   "for then we may easily regain Macedon, and make absolute conquest of
   Greece; and when all these are in our possession, what shall we do
   then?" Pyrrhus, smiling, answered, "Why then, my dear friend, we will
   live at our ease, take pleasure all day, and amuse ourselves with
   cheerful conversation." "Well sir," said Cineas, "and why may we not do
   this now, and without the labour and hazard of an enterprise so
   laborious and uncertain?" So, beloved, says the Christian. The worldly
   mans says, "Let me go and do this; let me go and do that; let me
   accumulate so many thousand pounds; let me get so rich; then I will
   enjoy myself and take my ease." "Nay," says the Christian, "I see no
   reason for doing it; why should I not make God my refuge now? Why
   should I not enjoy comfort and peace, and make myself happy now?" He
   does not want to water his land with his feet; but he sits down
   quietly, and his land "drinketh in water of the rain of heaven." Do not
   say I am preaching laziness. No such thing: I am only saying it is vain
   for you to rise up early, and sit up late, and eat the bread of
   carefulness, for, "Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain
   that build it." But, if "he giveth his beloved sleep," they rest in
   him; they know not these toils; that is, if they have attained to full
   assurance, and crossed into the Canaan of full confidence in God. They
   do not care to go ranging the world to find their happiness; but they
   say, "God is my ever present help; in him my soul is satisfied." They
   rest content in him. Their land is watered with the rain of heaven.

   I remember a story of a young man who was a lawyer. In order to attain
   fame in his position he was extremely anxious to understand all the
   mysteries and tortuous windings of the law, and to acquire some power
   of oratory, that he might be able to deliver himself eloquently before
   the bench. For ten years did he live apart from other people, lest
   domestic habits should wean him from his studies; he wrapped himself
   every night in a blanket, and took one of his own volumes, and put it
   under his head; he denied himself food, eating only so many morsels a
   day, lest indigestion should impair his powers. Although he was an
   infidel, he believed in God; and he bowed his head so many times a day,
   and prayed that he might lose anything rather than his intellectual
   powers. "Make a giant of me!"--that was his expression. And although
   his poor mother begged him to make himself more comfortable, he would
   not, but persisted in his course of abstemiousness and self-denial. One
   day, in reading one of his books, he saw this passage: "When all is
   gained, how little then is won! And yet to gain that little, how much
   is lost!" He stamped his foot, and raved like a maniac at the thought,
   that he had spent all these ten years, toiling and wearying himself for
   nothing; he saw the vanity of his course; he was driven to desperation,
   seized his axe, cut down the sign-board of his profession, and said,
   "Here ends this business." Turning to the same book, he found that it
   recommended Christianity as the rest of the weary soul; he found it in
   Christ, and attained to such an understanding of Christ, that he became
   a preacher of the gospel, and might well have preached on this
   text--"The land whither thou goest in to possess it, is not as the land
   of Egypt, from whence ye came out, where thou sowedst thy seed, and
   wateredst it with thy foot, as a garden of herbs; but the land, whither
   ye go to possess it, is a land of hills and valleys, and drinketh the
   water of heaven: a land which the Lord thy God careth for: the eyes of
   the Lord thy God are upon it, from the beginning of the year even unto
   the end of the year."

   3. This brings us to the third and last difference that we will note
   this morning; and that is, that the unbeliever, he who has not crossed
   the Jordan and come to full confidence, does not understand the
   universality of God's providence, while the assured Christian does. You
   will see that in my text in a minute. In Egypt the ground is almost
   entirely flat; and where it is not flat, it is impossible, of course,
   to grow anything, unless the ground is watered at considerable
   difficulty by some method of artificial irrigation, which shall force
   the water on to the high places. "But," says Moses, "the land, whither
   ye go to possess it, is a land of hills and valleys." The Egyptians
   could not get the water up on the hills, but you can; for the mountains
   drink in the rain, as well as the valleys. Now look at a worldling.
   Give him comforts, give him prosperity: oh! he can be so happy. Give
   him everything just as he likes it; make his course all a plain, all a
   dead valley and a flat; he can fertilize that, and water it; but let
   him have a mountainous trouble, let him lose a friend, or let his
   property be taken from him--put a hill in his way, and he cannot water
   that, with all the pumping of his feet, and all the force he strives to
   use. But the Christian lives in "a land of hills and valleys;" a land
   of sorrow as well as joys; but the hills drink the water, as well as
   the valleys. We need not climb the mountains to water their heads, for
   our God is as high as the hills. High as our troubles, and mountainous
   as are our difficulties sometimes, we need not climb up with weary foot
   to make them fertile, for they are all made to work together for our
   good. Go, Egyptian; live thou in thy flat country, and enjoy its
   luxuries; thou hast thy papyrus, and thou writest mercies upon it, but
   it shall be the food of worms; we have no lotus, but we have a flower
   that blooms in paradise; and we write our mercies on rocks, and not on
   rushes. Oh! sweet Canaan, heavenly land, where I dwell, and where you
   dwell, my brother Christians--a land which "drinketh water of the rain
   of heaven!"

   II. We must consider a little time, THE SPECIAL MERCY. "The eyes of the
   Lord are always upon it, from the beginning of the year even unto the
   end of the year." WE must now turn away altogether from the allegoric,
   and come to this special mercy, which is the lot only of God's people.

   "The eyes of the Lord thy God are always upon it, from the beginning of
   the year even unto the end of the year:" that is, upon the lot of all
   Christians individually. We have come now, beloved, to the end of
   another year--to the threshold of another period of time, and have
   marched another year's journey through the wilderness. Come, now! In
   reading this verse over, can you say Amen to it? "The eyes of the Lord
   thy God are always upon you, from the beginning of the year even unto
   the end of the year." Some of you say, "I have had deep troubles this
   year." "I have lost a friend," says one. "Ah!" says another, "I have
   been impoverished this year." "I have been slandered," cries another.
   "I have been exceedingly vexed and grieved," says another. "I have been
   persecuted," says another. Well, but, beloved, take the year
   altogether--the blacks and the whites, the troubles and the joys, the
   hills and the valleys altogether, and what have you to say about it?
   You may say, "Surely goodness and mercy have followed me all the days
   of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever." Do not
   pick out one day in the year, and say it was a bad day, but take all
   the year round, let it revolve in all its grandeur; let all the signs
   of the Zodiac come before you. Do not say, "I have been in Cancer so
   long a time," but run through them all, and then get into Libra, and
   judge between things that differ; and then what will you say? "Ah!
   bless the Lord! he hath done all things well; my soul, and all that is
   within me, bless his holy name!" And you know why all things have been
   well. It is because the eyes of the Lord have been upon you all the
   year. Oh! if those awful eyes had been shut for a single moment, by
   night or day, where should we have been? Why, we had not been at all
   but swept away, like airy dreams, into nihility. God watches over every
   one of his people, just as if there were only that one in the world;
   and he has been watching over you, so that when a trouble came, God
   said, "Trouble, avaunt!" "There shall no temptation happen to you but
   such as is common to man." And when your joys would have cloyed upon
   you, and around you, God has said, "Stand back, joy! I will not have
   you fondle him too much; he will be deceived by thee." "The eyes of the
   Lord" have been upon you continually, "from the beginning of the year
   even unto the end of the year." "Well," says one, "I cannot say so much
   of my year." Then I cannot say so much of you. I was speaking to the
   Christian; and if you cannot say of your year, "surely goodness and
   mercy have followed it all," I am afraid you are not a child of God,
   for methinks a child of God will say, when he reviews it all, "not one
   good thing hath failed of all the Lord God hath promised, but all hath
   come to pass."

   Then, my brethren, might I not say a word to you concerning the eyes of
   the Lord having been upon us as a church? Ought we to let this year
   pass without rehearsing the works of the Lord? Hath he not been with us
   exceeding abundantly, and prospered us? It is during this year that we
   met together in the great assembly--during this year that these eyes
   have seen the mighty gatherings of men who listened to our words on the
   Sabbath-day. We shall not soon forget our sojourn in Exeter Hall-shall
   we? During those months the Lord brought in many of his own elect, and
   multitudes who were unsaved up to that time were called by divine
   mercy, and brought into the fold. How God protected us there! What
   peace and prosperity hath he given to us! How hath he enlarged our
   borders, and multiplied our numbers, so that we are not few, and
   increased us, so that we are not weak! I do think we were not thankful
   enough for the goodness of the Lord which carried us there, and gave us
   so many who have now become useful to use in our church! Remember in
   how many places ye have worshipped God this year. This place has been
   enlarged, so that more can be held within its walls; now we can receive
   more to listen to the voice of the Gospel than we could before; and God
   seems to say, "Go, forward, go forward still." The goodness of the Lord
   has increased as we have gone along. I have often feared, lest the
   people should desert the house, and that when we made it larger we
   should not have enough to fill it: but the Lord still sends an
   overwhelming congregation, and still gives us grace to preach his
   gospel. How thankful should we be! Surely, "the eyes of the Lord" have
   been upon this church, "from the beginning of the year even unto the
   end of the year." We have had peace: not a rotten peace, I trust, but
   the peace of God. Nothing has arisen that should disturb our
   equanimity. The church has been kept by the grace of God faithful to
   the doctrines of grace. Ah! what a blessing it is, that our members
   have been kept from falling into sin! What a glorious thing that we are
   carried through another year safely! Some old writer has said, "Every
   hour that a Christian remains a Christian is an hour of miracle." It is
   true; and every year that the church is kept an entire church is a year
   of miracle.

   It is a year of miracles. Tell it to the wide, wide world; tell it
   everywhere. "The eye of the Lord" hath been upon us, "from the
   beginning of the year even unto the end of the year." Two hundred and
   ten persons have this year united with us in church fellowship; about
   enough to have formed a church. One half the churches in London cannot
   number so many in their entire body; and yet the Lord has brought so
   many into our midst. And still they come; still they come. Whenever I
   have an opportunity of seeing those who are converted to God, they come
   in such numbers that many have to be sent away. Still they come, still
   they come; and well I am assured, that I have as many still in this
   congregation, who will during the present year come forward to put on
   the Lord Jesus Christ. How often has the sacred pool of baptism been
   opened this year! How sweetly have we assembled round the Lord's table!
   What precious moments we have had at the Monday evening prayer
   meetings! And how glorious it has been when we have recognized brother
   after brother, sister after sister publicly, by giving them the right
   hand of fellowship! In all our ways we hope we have acknowledged him,
   and he has directed our paths. Sing unto the Lord, for he hath done
   wonders; bless his name, for he has worked miracles; praise his grace,
   for he hath highly exalted his people; for he has worked miracles;
   praise his grace, for he hath highly exalted his people; unto him be
   honor, for ever and ever. And mark you, brethren, this church has known
   what it is to come out of Egypt. We have not toiled with our feet here.
   I hope there has been no desire to draw unfit persons into the church,
   I have had no toiling with my feet, I am sure, in preaching the
   gospel--no legal preaching--none of your exciting preaching--none of
   all that toiling with your feet; but we have had nothing but the rain
   from heaven. We have not laboured to excite carnal passions, nor to
   preach sermons with a view of driving you into religious fevers. Sturdy
   old Calvinism will not let us do that. We cannot preach such sermons as
   Arminians can. The land has been watered by the rain of heaven. We have
   not had any of those fatal pestilential mists that sometimes gather
   round the church. It is proverbial, that wherever the revivalists go,
   they always carry desolation; before them is an Eden; behind them is a
   desert; wherever they go they scorch the land like firebrands; though
   hundreds seem to be converted to God, they are converted to ten times
   blacker sins than before, and the last end of them is worse than the
   first. We want not the getting up of a little feverish passion by
   appealing to the natural man; it is the drinking water of the rain of
   heaven that does the good. I trust it has been so here, and that "the
   eyes of the Lord" have been upon you "from the beginning of the year
   even to the end of the year."

   So, beloved, I can say that, as a minister, the eyes of the Lord have
   been upon me this year. It has been my privilege, many times this year
   to preach his word. I think, more than four hundred times have I stood
   in the pulpit to testify his truth, and the eyes of the Lord have been
   upon me. Blessed be his name! whether it has been in the north, in the
   south, in the east, or in the west, I have never lacked a congregation;
   nor have I ever gone again to any of the places I have preached at,
   without hearing of souls converted. I cannot remember a single village,
   or town, that I have visited a second time without meeting with some
   who blessed God that they heard the word of truth there. When I went to
   Bradford last time, I stated in the pulpit that I had never heard of a
   soul being converted through my preaching there; and the good
   pew-opener came to Brother Dowson, and said, "Why didn't you tell Mr.
   Spurgeon that such-a-one joined the church through hearing him?" and
   instantly that dear man of God told me the cheering news. We have met
   with much opposition this year. Thanks to our brethren in the ministry,
   we have not had very much assistance from them. We have been enabled to
   say to them all, "I will not take from you, from a thread to a
   shoe-latchet, lest ye should say, I have made him rich." But how much
   of that bigotry which formerly existed has subsided! How much of that
   sneer, which was at one time so common, has now gone away! I am now,
   rather more afraid of their smiles than their frowns--though I do not
   think I feel much of either. Cedo nulli, was my motto at the beginning,
   and I take it once more. I yield to none; but by the grace of God I
   preach his truth, and still, if he help me, will I hold on my way. And
   to the Three-one God, be eternal honor. Amen.
     __________________________________________________________________

                              Watch-Night Service

   (No. 59)

   Held at New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

   On Tuesday Night, December 31, 1855, by the

   REV. C.H. SPURGEON

   If it be enquired why I held a Watch-night, let the answer be--because
   I hoped that the Lord would own the service, and thus souls might be
   saved. I have preached at all hours the gospel of Jesus, and I see no
   reason why I may not preach at midnight, if I can obtain hearers. I
   have not done it from imitation, but for the best of reasons--the hope
   of doing good, and the wish to be the means of gathering in the
   outcasts of Israel. God is my witness, I would preach every hour of the
   day, if body and mind were equal to the task. When I consider how souls
   are being damned and how few there are who mourn and cry over them, I
   am constrained to cry with Paul, "Woe is me if I preach not the
   gospel." Oh, that the new year may be far better than the last.

   I am almost sorry to see this service in print, and fear it will rob
   many of their week's food from the regular sermon; but as it is done, I
   pray the Lord to own it for Jesus' sake.--C.H.S.

   The chapel being densely crowded in every part, the preacher entered
   the pulpit, and after prayer, solemnly read the verse--which the
   congregation then sang--

   "Ye virgin souls, arise!

   With all the dead awake;

   Unto salvation wise;

   Oil in your vessels take:

   Upstarting at the MIDNIGHT CRY,

   Behold Your heavenly bridegroom nigh."

   Two brethren then offered prayer for the Church and the World, that the
   new year might be clothed with glory by the spread of the knowledge of
   Jesus.--Then followed the

   EXPOSITION

   Psalm 90:1-22

   "Lord, thou hast been our dwelling place in all generations.

   Yea Jehovah, WE, they children, can say that thou hast been our home,
   our safe dwelling-place. And oh, what joy, what peace have we found in
   his sacred bosom. No home like the breast of the Lord, to which, in all
   generations, true believers fly. Let me ask the unbelievers where their
   joy is. Where has your habitation been, ye sons of sin and daughters of
   folly?

   "Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the
   earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art
   God."

   And the same God too, loving His people, passing by their sins and
   remembering not their iniquities. Oh, beloved, let this thought cheer
   you, he was, he is, he will be God. Here change cannot climb, here
   mutation must not approach. For ever and ever he is God.

   "Thou turnest man to destruction; and sayest, Return, ye children of
   men."

   How many this year have departed. Oh, where had we been had this been
   our case? Many of us can say, we should have been in bliss, and we
   should have returned unto God, but alas, many here would have entered
   the fires of hell and commenced their never-ending torture.

   "For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is
   past, and as a watch in the night."

   "Thou carriest them away as with a flood."

   Who are they who are carried away as with a flood? Yourselves, my
   hearers, and myself. Though we know it not, we are always in motion.
   The impetuous torrent of time is carrying us along like a mighty
   rolling river. We cannot stand against the force which drives us
   onwards. As powerless as the straw we are; we can by no means resist
   it. Whither are we going? Where is the river carrying us to? We cannot
   stem its torrens; we cannot escape its floods. Oh! where, oh! where,
   are we going!

   "Thou carriest them away as with a flood; they are as a sleep: in the
   morning they are like grass which groweth up.

   "In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up; in the evening it is
   cut down, and withereth.

   "For we are consumed by thine anger, and by thy wrath are we troubled."

   No man better understands this than the convinced sinner, when smarting
   under the rod of God. Truly our strength is then utterly consumed, and
   the troubles of our heart are enlarged.

   "Thou hast set our iniquities before thee, our secret sins in the light
   of thy countenance."

   Hear that! "our secret sins." Some of you bear hell's mark on your
   forehead. Some of you, like Cain, have the mark of justice on your very
   brow. Your sins are beforehand with you in judgment. Ah! they are there
   to-night, blabbing out the tale of your sad, sad history. But there are
   persons here who have "secret sins." Ye have not been found out yet.
   The night was too dark for human eye to se you; the deed was to secret
   for mortal to behold; but it is set somewhere. Just as we set a stone
   in a golden ring, so has God set your "secret sins in the light of his
   countenance." Your sins are this night before the eyes of the infinite
   Jehovah.

   "For all our days are passed away in thy wrath: we spend our years as a
   tale that is told."

   The Vulgate translation has: "Our years pass away like those of a
   spider." It implies that our life is as frail as the thread of a
   spider's web. Constituted most curiously the spider's web is; but what
   more fragile? In what is there more wisdom than in the complicated
   frame of a human body; and what more easily destroyed? Glass is granite
   compared with flesh; and vapours are rocks compared with life.

   "The days of our years are threescore years and ten;"

   Mark, the Psalmist says, "the days of our years." How seldom we think
   of that! Our years we think of, but not "the days of our years."

   "And if [it is a great "if" indeed, for how many die before they attain
   to it!] by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their
   strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away."

   Where do we fly to? Is it upwards that we wing our way, on more than
   eagles' wings, to realms of joy unknown? Or is it downward that we sink
   with all our sins round our necks like millstones? Oh! shall we go
   down, down, till in hell we lift up our eyes, being in torments?

   "Who knoweth the power of thine anger? even according to thy fear, so
   is thy wrath.

   "So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto
   wisdom."

   Here is heavenly arithmetic; an application of numeration seldom
   thought of even by the wise. May we, during the next year, so measure
   out our time, that we may apply our hearts to Jesus, who is the true
   wisdom.

   Amen! Lord, may that be granted!

   Now we will sing a verse of that solemn hymn--

   "When thou my righteous judge shall come,"

   and then the Pastor will make an evening's prayer for you before he
   comes to speak with your souls on God's behalf.

HYMN

   "Let me among thy saints be found

   Whene'er the archangel's trump shall sound,

   To see thy smiling face:

   Then loudest of the crowd I'll sing,

   While heav'n's resounding mansions ring

   With shouts of sovereign grace."

PRAYER

   O God, save my people! Save my people! A solemn charge hast thou given
   to thy servant. Ah! Lord, it is all too solemn for such a child. Help
   him; help him by thine own grace, to discharge it as he ought. O Lord,
   let thy servant confess that he feels that his prayers are not as
   earnest as they should be for his people's souls; that he does not
   preach so frequently as he ought, with that fire, that energy, that
   true love to men's souls. But O Lord, damn not the hearers for the
   preacher's sin. Oh, destroy not the flock for the shepherd's iniquity.
   Have mercy on them, good Lord, have mercy on them, O Lord, have mercy
   on them! There are some, Father, that will not have mercy on
   themselves. How have we preached to them, and laboured for them! O God
   thou knowest that I lie not. How have I striven for them, that they
   might be saved! But the heart is too hard for man to melt, and the soul
   made of iron too hard for flesh and blood to render soft. O God, the
   God of Israel, thou canst save. There is the pastor's hope; there is
   the minister's trust. He cannot but thou canst, Lord; they will not
   come, but thou canst make them willing in the day of thy power. They
   will not come unto thee that they may have life; but thou canst draw
   them, and then they shall run after thee. They cannot come; but thou
   canst give them power; for though no man cometh except the Father draw
   him, yet if he draw him then he can come, O Lord, for another year has
   thy servant preached--thou knowest how. It is not for him to plead his
   cause with thee--that is in another's hands, and has been there, thank
   God, years ago. But now, O Lord, we beseech thee, bless our people. Let
   this our church, thy church, be still knit together in unity; and this
   night may they commence a fresh era of prayer. They are a praying
   people, blessed by thy name, and they pray for their minister with all
   their hearts. O Lord, help them to pray more earnestly. May we wrestle
   in prayer more than ever, and besiege thy throne until thou makest
   Jerusalem a praise not only here, but everywhere. But, Father, it is
   not the church we weep for; it is not the church we groan for; it is
   the world. O Faithful Promisor, hast thou not promised to thy Son that
   he should not die in vain? Give him souls we beseech thee, that he may
   be abundantly satisfied. Hast thou not promised thy church that she
   shall be increased? Oh, increase her, increase her. And hast thou not
   promised that thy ministers shall not labour in vain? For thou hast
   said that "as the rain cometh down and the snow from heaven, and
   returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, even so shall thy word
   be: it shall not return unto thee void." Let not the word return void
   tonight; but now may thy servant in the most earnest manner, with the
   most fervent heart, burning with love to his Saviour, and with love to
   souls, preach once more the glorious gospel of the blessed God. Come,
   Holy Spirit! We can do nothing without thee. We solemnly invoke thee,
   great Spirit of God! thou who didst rest on Abraham, on Isaac, and on
   Jacob; thou, who in the night visions speaketh unto men. Spirit of the
   Prophets, Spirit of the Apostles, Spirit of the Church, be thou our
   Spirit this night, that the earth may tremble, that souls may be made
   to hear thy Word, and that all flesh may rejoice together to praise thy
   name. Unto Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, the dread Supreme, be
   everlasting praise. Amen.

SERMON

   "Arise, cry out in the night; in the beginning of the watches pour out
   thine heart like water before the face of the Lord"--Lamentations 2:19.

   This was originally spoken to Zion, when in her sad and desolate
   condition, Jeremiah, the weeping prophet, had wept his eyes dry for the
   slain of the daughter of his people; and when he had done all he could
   himself to pour out tears for poor Jerusalem, he then begged Jerusalem
   to weep for herself. Methinks I might become a Jeremy to-night, and
   weep as he, for surely the church at large is in almost as evil a
   condition. O Zion, how hast thou been veiled in a cloud, and how is thy
   honor trodden in the dust! Arise, ye sons of Zion, and weep for your
   mother, yea weep bitterly, for she hath given herself to other lovers,
   and forsaken the Lord that bought her. I bear witness this night, in
   the midst of this solemn assembly, that the church at large is wickedly
   departing from the living God; she is leaving the truth which was once
   her glory, and she is mixing herself among the nations. Ah! beloved, it
   were well if Zion now could sometimes weep; it were well if there were
   more who would lay to heart the wound of the daughter of his people.
   How hath the city become a harlot! how hath the much fine gold become
   dim! and how hath the glory departed! Zion is under a cloud. Her
   ministers preach not with the energy and fire that anciently dwelt in
   the lips of God's servants, neither is pure and undefiled doctrine
   proclaimed in her streets. Where are her evangelists who with earnest
   hearts traversed the land with the gospel on their lips. Where are her
   apostolic preachers who everywhere declared the good tidings of
   salvation. Alas for the idle shepherds! Alas for the slumbering
   ministers! Weep sore, O Zion! weep thee sore, until another reformation
   comes to sweep thy floor. Weep thee, Zion: weep until he shall come
   whose fan is in his hand, who shall thoroughly purge his floor; for the
   time is coming when judgment must begin at the house of God. Oh, that
   now the princes of Israel had wisdom, that they might seek the Lord;
   but alas, our leaders have given themselves to false doctrine; neither
   do they love the thing which is right. Therefore I charge thee,
   "Arise," O Zion, "cry out in the night, in the beginning of the watches
   pour out thine heart like water before the face of the Lord."

   We leave Zion, however, to speak to those who need exhortation more
   than Zion does; to speak to those who are Zion's enemies, or followers
   of Zion, and yet not belonging to her ranks. To them we shall have a
   word or two to say to-night.

  1.

   First, from our text we gather--that it is never too soon to pray.
   "Arise, cry out in the night: in the beginning of the watches pour out
   thine heart like water before the face of the Lord." You are lying on
   your bed; the gracious Spirit whispers--"Arise, and pray to God." Well,
   there is no reason why you should delay till the morning light: "in the
   beginning of the watches pour out thine heart like water before the
   face of the Lord." We are told there that it is never too soon to pray.
   How many young persons imagine that religion is a thing for age, or at
   least for maturity; but they conceive that whilest they are in the
   bloom of their youth, they need not attend to its admonitions. How many
   have we found who count religion to be a crutch for old age, who reckon
   it an ornament to their grey hairs, forgetting that to the young man
   religion is like a chain of gold around his neck, and like an ornament
   set with precious jewels, that shall array him with honour. How many
   there be who think it is yet too soon for them to bear for a single
   moment the cross of Jesus. They do not want to have their young
   shoulders galled with an early burden; they do not think it is true
   that "it is good for a man to bean the yoke in his youth;" and they
   forget that "yoke is easy," and that "burden is light." Therefore, hour
   after hour, and day after day, the malicious fiend whispers in their
   ear--"It is too soon, it is too soon! Postpone, postpone, postpone!
   Procrastinate!" Need we tell you once more that oft-repeated axiom,
   "Procrastination is the thief of time?" Need we remind you that "delays
   are dangerous?" Need we tell you that those are the workings of Satan?
   For the Holy Ghost, when he strives with man, says, "To-day, if ye will
   hear his voice, harden not your heart." It is never, beloved, too soon
   to pray. Art thou a child to-night? Thy God heareth children. He called
   Samuel when he was but a child. "Samuel, Samuel;" and he said, "Here am
   I." We have had our Josiahs; we have heard of our Timothys; we have
   seen those in early youth who have been brought to the Saviour. Oh!
   remember it is not too soon to seek the Saviour, ere you arrive at
   manhood. If God in his mercy calls you to him, I beseech you think not
   for a moment that he will not hear you. I trust I know his name; yea,
   more than that, I know I do. "I know whom I have believed." But he did
   not call me too early. Though but a child, I descended into the pool of
   baptism, there to be buried with my Saviour. Oh! I wish I could say
   that all those fourteen or fifteen year of my life had not been thrown
   away. Blessed be his name, he never calls us too soon. If he rises
   early in the morning, and sends some into his vineyard to labour, he
   does not send them before they should go--before there is work for them
   to do. Young man, it is not too soon. "Arise, cry out in the night: in
   the beginning of the watches pour out thine heart like water before the
   face of the Lord."

  2.

   Again; it is not too late to cry to the Lord; for if the sun be set,
   and the watches of the night have commenced their round, the mercy seat
   is open. No shop is open so late as the House of Mercy. The devil has
   two tricks with men. Sometimes he puts their clock a little backward,
   and he says, "Stop, there is time enough yet;" and when that does not
   answer, he turns the hands on, and he cries out, "Too late! too late"
   Old man, has the devil said "It is too late?" Convinced sinner, has
   Satan said "It is too late?" Troubled, distressed one, has the thought
   risen in thy soul--a bitter and a dark one--"It is too late?" It is
   not. Within another fifteen minutes another year shall have come; but
   if the Spirit of God calls you this year, he will not call you too late
   in the year. If to the last second you should live, if God the Holy
   Ghost calls you then, he will not have called you too late. Ah! ye
   desponding ones, who think it is all too late--it is not.

   While the lamp holds out to burn,

   The vilest sinner that returns

   shall find mercy and peace. There have been some older than you can be;
   some as sinful and vile, and heinously wicked, who have provoked God as
   much, who have sinned against him as frequently, and yet they have
   found pardon. If he call thee, sinner, if he call thee to-night, 12
   o'clock is not too late, as 1 o'clock is not too early. If he call
   thee, whether it be at midnight, or cock-crowing, or noon-day, we would
   say to thee, as they did to the blind man, "Arise; he calleth thee."
   And as sure as ever he calls you, he will not send you away without a
   blessing. It is not too late to call on God. The darkness of night is
   gathering; it is coming on, and you are near to death. Arise, sleeper,
   arise! thou who art now taking the last nap of death. "Arise, cry out
   in the night: in the beginning of the watches pour out thine heart like
   water before the face of the Lord."

  3.

   Next: we cannot pray too vehemently, for the text says, "Arise, cry out
   in the night." God loves earnest prayers. He loves impetuous
   prayers--vehement prayers. Let a man preach if he dare coldly and
   slowly, but never let him pray so. God loveth crying-out prayers. There
   is a poor fellow who says--"I don't know how to pray." "Why, sir?" He
   says, "I could not put six or seven words together in English grammar.
   Tush upon English grammar! God does not care for that, so long as you
   pour out your heart. That is enough. Cry out before him. "Ah!" says
   one, "I have been supplicating to God. I think I have asked for mercy."
   But perhaps you have not cried out. Cry out before God. I have often
   heard men say they have prayed and have not been heard. But I have
   known the reason. They have asked amiss if they have asked; and those
   who cry with weak voices, who do not cry aloud, must not expect to get
   a blessing. When you go to mercy's gate, let me give you a little
   advice. Do not go and give a gentle tap, like a lady; do not give a
   single knock, like a beggar; but take the knocker and rap hard, till
   the very door seems to shake. Rap with all your might! and recollect
   that God loveth those who knock hard at mercy's gate. "Knock, and it
   shall be opened unto you." I picture the scene at midnight, which our
   Saviour mentioned in the parable, and it will suit the present
   occasion. A certain man wanted some bread; a friend of his on a journey
   had come to his house and was very faint, and needed bread to eat. So
   off he went to his next door neighbour and rapped at his door, but no
   one came. He stood beneath the window and called out his friend's name.
   His friend answered from the top of the house, where he had been lying
   asleep, "My wife and children are with me in bed, and I cannot rise and
   give the." But the man did not care about that. His poor friend wanted
   bread; so he called out aloud--"It is bread I want, and bread I must
   have!" I fancy I see the man lying and sleeping there. He says, "I
   shan't get up; it is very cold to-night. How can you expect me to rise
   and go down stairs to get bread for you? I won't; I can't; I shan't."
   So he wraps himself very comfortably again and lays down to sleep once
   more. What does the man down below do? Oh! I hear him still. "Awake,
   sir! I must have it! I will have it! My friend is starving." "Go home,
   you fellow! Don't disturb me this time of night." "I must have bread!
   Why don't you come and let me have it!" says the other; but the friend
   vexed and angry lies down again on his bed. Still at the door there
   comes a heavier and a heavier rap, and the man still shouts--"Bread,
   sir, bread! You will not sleep all night till you come down and give it
   me!" And verily I say unto you, though he will not rise and give it to
   him because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will
   rise and give him as much as he needeth. "Arise, cry out in the night,"
   and God will hear you, if you cry out with all your souls, and pour out
   your hearts before him.

  4.

   And now our last remark is--we cannot pray too simply. Just hear how
   the Psalmist has it: "pour out your hearts before him." Not "pour out
   your fine words," not "pour out your beautiful periods," but "pour out
   your hearts." "I dare not," says one, "there is black stuff in my
   heart." Out withit then: it is better out than in. "I cannot," says
   another, "it would not run freely." Pour it out, sir; pour it all
   out--like water! Do you not notice something in this? Some men say--"I
   cannot pray as I could wish; my crying out is a feeble one." Well, when
   you pour out water it does not make much noise. So you can pour out
   your heart prayer uttered in a garret that nobody has heard--but stop!
   Gabriel heard it; God himself heard it. There is many a cry down in a
   cellar, or up in a garret, or some lonely place where the cobbler sits
   mending his shoes beneath a window, whic the world does not hear, but
   the Lord hears it. Pour out your heart like water. How does water run
   out? The quickest way it can; that's all. It never stops much about how
   it runs. That is the way the Lord loves to have it. Some of your gentry
   offer prayers which are poured out drop after brop, and must be brought
   to a grand, ecclesiastical, prayer-book shape. Now, take your heart and
   pour it out like water. "What!" says one, "with all the oaths in it?"
   Yes. "With all my old sins in it?" Yes. Pour out your heart like water;
   pour it out by confessing all your sins; pour it out by begging the
   Lord to have mercy upon you for Christ's sake; pour it out like water.
   And when it is all poured out, he will come and fill it again with
   "wine on the lees, well refined." "Arise, cry out in the night; in the
   beginning of the watches pour out thine heart like water before the
   face of the Lord."

   Thus do I speak to all who will acknowledge themselves to be sinners in
   the sight of God, but even these must have the assistance of the Holy
   Spirit to enable them to cry out, O my Lord, grant it.

   And now, dear friends, may grace be given unto you, that ye may be able
   to pour out your hearts this night! Remember, my hearers, it may seem a
   light thing for us to assemble to-night at such an hour, but listen for
   one moment to the ticking of that clock! [Here the preacher paused, and
   amid solemn silence every one heard the clock with its tick, tick,
   tick.] It is the beating of the pulse of eternity. You hear the ticking
   of that clock!--it is the footstep of death pursuing you. Each time the
   clock ticks, death's footsteps are falling on the ground close behind
   you. You will soon enter another year. This year will have gone in a
   few seconds. 1855 is almost gone; where will the next year be spent, my
   friends? One has been spent on earth; where will you spend the next?
   "In heaven!" says one, "I trust." Another murmurs, "Perhaps I shall
   spend mine in hell!" Ah! solemn is the thought, but before that clock
   strikes 12, some here may be in hell; and blessed be the name of God!
   some of us may be in heaven! But O, do you know how to estimate your
   time, my hearers? do you know how to measure your days? Oh! I have not
   words to speak to-night. Do you know that every hour you are nearing
   the tomb? that every hour you are nearing judgment? that the archangel
   is flapping his wings every second of your life, and, trumpet at his
   mouth, is approaching you? that you do not live stationary lives, but
   always going on, on, on, towards the grave? Do you know where the
   stream of life is hastening some of you? To the rapids--to the rapids
   of woe and destruction! What shall the end of those be who obey not the
   gospel of God? Ye will not have so many years to live as ye had last
   year! See the man who has but a few shillings in his pocket, how he
   takes them out and spends them one by one! Now he has but a few
   coppers, and there is so much for that tiny candle, so much for that
   piece of bread. He counts the articles out one by one; and so the money
   goes! You think there is no bottom to your pockets; you think you have
   a boundless store of time--but you have not! As the Lord liveth, there
   is a young man here that has not more than one year to live; and yet he
   is spending all that he is worth of time, in sin, in folly, and vice.
   Some of you have not that to live; and yet how are you spending your
   time! O take care! take care! time is precious! and whenever we have
   little of it, it is more precious; yea, it is most precious. May God
   help you to escape from hell and fly to heaven! I feel like the angel,
   to-night, who put his hand upon Lot, and cried--"Escape! look not
   behind thee! stay not in all the plain; flee to the mountain, lest thou
   be consumed!"

   And now, I appreciate the power of silence. You will please to observe
   strict and solemn silence until the striking of that clock; and let
   each one spend the time as he pleases. [It was now two minutes to
   twelve, and profound silence reigned, save where sobs and groans could
   be distinctly heard from penitent lips seeking the Saviour. The clock
   having struck, Mr Spurgeon continued:] You are now where you never were
   before; and you never will be again where you have been to-night.

   Now we have had a solemn meeting, and let us have a cheerful ending of
   it. As we go away let us sing a sweet hymn to encourage our hearts.

   [A hymn was then sung]

   Now may the Lord bless you, and lift up the light of his countenance
   upon you, and give you peace! May you, during this year of grace;
   receive much grace; and may you proceed onwards towards heaven! And may
   we as a church, as members of churches, as ministers, as deacons,
   mutually strive together for the faith of Jesus, and be edified
   therein! And may the Lord save the ungodly! If the last year is clean
   gone and they are not yet pardoned and forgiven, let not another year
   roll away without their finding mercy!

   The Lord dismiss you all with his sweet blessing, for his blessed Son's
   sake, Amen. And may the love of Jesus Christ, the grace of his Father,
   and the fellowship of his blessed Spirit be yours, my beloved, if ye
   know Christ, world without end. Amen.

   Now, my friends, in the highest and best sense, I wish you all a happy
   new year.
     __________________________________________________________________

                           Sovereignty and Salvation

   A Sermon

   (No. 60)

   Delivered on Sabbath Morning, January 6, 1856, by the

   REV. C.H. SPURGEON

   At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

   "Look unto me and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth: for I am God,
   and there is none else."--Isaiah 45:22.

   SIX years ago to-day, as near as possible at this very hour of the day,
   I was "in the gall of bitterness and in the bonds of iniquity," but had
   yet, by divine grace, been led to feel the bitterness of that bondage,
   and to cry out by reason of the soreness of its slavery. Seeking rest,
   and finding none, I stepped within the house of God, and sat there,
   afraid to look upward, lest I should be utterly cut off, and lest his
   fierce wrath should consume me. The minister rose in his pulpit, and,
   as I have done this morning, read this text, "Look unto me, and be ye
   saved, all the ends of the earth: for I am God, and there is none
   else." I looked that moment; the grace of faith was vouchsafed to me in
   the self-same instant; and now I think I can say with truth,

   "Ere since by faith I saw the stream

   His flowing wounds supply,

   Redeeming love has been my theme,

   And shall be till I die."

   I shall never forget that day, while memory holds its place; nor can I
   help repeating this text whenever I remember that hour when first I
   knew the Lord. How strangely gracious! How wonderfully and marvelously
   kind, that he who heard these words so little time ago for his own
   soul's profit, should now address you this morning as his hearers from
   the same text, in the full and confident hope that some poor sinner
   within these walls may hear the glad tidings of salvation for himself
   also, and may to-day, on this 6th of January, be "turned from darkness
   to light, and from the power of Satan unto God!"

   If it were within the range of human capacity to conceive a time when
   God dwelt alone, without his creatures, we should then have one of the
   grandest and most stupendous ideas of God. There was a season when as
   yet the sun had never run his race, nor commenced flinging his golden
   rays across space, to gladden the earth. There was an era when no stars
   sparkled in the firmament. for there was no sea of azure in which they
   might float. There was a time when all that we now behold of God's
   great universe was yet unborn, slumbering within the mind of God, as
   yet uncreate and no-existent; yet there was God, and he was "over all
   blessed for ever;" though no seraphs hymned his praises, though no
   strong-winged cherubs flashed like lightning to do his high behests,
   though he was without a retinue, yet he sat as a king on his throne,
   the mighty God, for ever to be worshipped--the Dread Supreme, in solemn
   silence dwelling by himself in vast immensity, making the placid clouds
   his canopy, and the light from his own countenance forming the
   brightness of his glory. God was, and God is. From the beginning God
   was God; ere worlds had beginning, he was "from everlasting to
   everlasting." Now, when it pleased him to create his creatures, does it
   not strike you how infinitely those creatures must have been below
   himself? If you are potters, and you fashion upon the wheel a vessel,
   shall that piece of clay arrogate to itself equality with you? Nay, at
   what a distance will it be from you, because you have been in part its
   creator. So where the Almighty formed his creatures, was it not
   consummate impudence, that they should venture for a moment to compare
   themselves with him? Yet that arch traitor, that leader of rebels,
   Satan, sought to climb to the high throne of God, soon to find his aim
   too high, and hell itself not low enough wherein to escape divine
   vengeance. He knows that God is "God alone." Since the world was
   created, man has imitated Satan; the creature of a day, the ephemera of
   an hour, has sought to match itself with the Eternal. Hence it has even
   been one of the objects of the great Jehovah, to teach mankind that he
   is God, and beside him there is none else. This is the lesson he has
   been teaching the world since it went astray from him. He has been
   busying himself in breaking down the high places, in exalting the
   valleys, in casting down imaginations and lofty looks, that all the
   world might

   "Know that he Lord is God alone,

   He can create, and he destroy."

   This morning we shall attempt to show you, in the first place, how God
   has been teaching this great lesson to the world-- that he is God, and
   beside him there is none else; and then, secondly, the special way in
   which he designs to teach it in the matter of salvation-- "Look unto
   me, and be ye saved: for I am God, and there is none else."

   I. First, then, HOW HAS GOD BEEN TEACHING THIS LESSON TO MANKIND?

   We reply, he has taught it, first of all, to false gods, and to the
   idolaters who have bowed before them. Man, in his wickedness and sin,
   has set up a block of wood and stone to be his maker, and has bowed
   before it. He hath fashioned for himself out of a goodly tree an image
   made unto the likeness of mortal man, or of the fishes of the sea, or
   of creeping things of the earth, and he has prostrated his body, and
   his soul too, before that creature of his own hands, calling it a god,
   while it had neither eyes to see, nor hands to handle, nor ears to
   hear. But how hath God poured contempt on the ancient gods of the
   heathen? Where are they now? Are they so much as known? Where are those
   false deities before whom the multitudes of Ninevah prostrated
   themselves? Ask the moles and the bats, whose companions they are; or
   ask the mounds beneath which they are buried; or go where the idle
   gazer walketh through the museum--see them there as curiosities, and
   smile to think that men should ever bow before such gods as these. and
   where are the gods of Persia? Where are they? The fires are quenched,
   and the fire-worshipper hath almost ceased out of the earth. Where are
   the gods of Greece--those gods adorned with poetry, and hymned in the
   most sublime odes? Where are they? They are gone. Who talks of them
   now, but as things that were of yore? Jupiter--doth any one bow before
   him? And who is he that adores Saturn? They are passed away, and they
   are forgotten. And where are the gods of Rome? Doth Janus now command
   the temple? or do the vestal virgins now feed their perpetual fires?
   Are there any now that bow before these gods? No, they have lost their
   thrones. And where are the gods of the South Sea Islands--those bloody
   demons before whom wretched creatures prostrated their bodies? They
   have well-nigh become extinct. Ask the inhabitants of China and
   Polynesia where are the gods before which they bowed? Ask, and echo
   says ask, and ask again. They are cast down from their thrones; they
   are hurled from their pedestals; their chariots are broken, their
   sceptres are burnt in the fire, their glories are departed; God hath
   gotten unto himself the victory over false gods, and taught their
   worshippers that he is God, and that beside him there is none else. Are
   their gods still worshipped, or idols before which the nations bow
   themselves? Wait but a little while, and ye shall see them fall. Cruel
   Juggernaut, whose car still crushes in its motion the foolish ones who
   throw themselves before it shall yet be the object of derision; and the
   most noted idols, such as Buddha, and Brahma, and Vishnu, shall yet
   stoop themselves to the earth, and men shall tread them down as mire in
   the streets; for God will teach all men that he is God, and that there
   is none else.

   Mark ye, yet again, how God has taught this truth to empires. Empires
   have risen up, and have been gods of the era; their kings and princes
   have taken to themselves high titles, and have been worshipped by the
   multitude. But ask the empires whether there is any beside God? Do you
   not think you hear the boasting soliloquy of Babylon--"I sit as a
   queen, and am no widow; I shall see no sorrow; I am god, and there is
   none beside me?" And think ye not now, if ye walk over ruined Babylon,
   that ye will meet aught save the solemn spirit of the Bible, standing
   like a prophet gray with age, and telling you that there is one God,
   and that beside him there is none else? Go ye to Babylon, covered with
   its sand, the sand of its own ruins; stand ye on the mounds of Nineveh,
   and let the voice come up--"There is one God, and empires sink before
   him; there is only one Potentate, and the princes and kings of the
   earth, with their dynasties and thrones, are shaken by the trampling of
   his foot." Go, seat yourselves in the temples of Greece; mark ye there
   what proud words Alexander once did speak; but now, where is he, and
   where his empire too? Sit on the ruined arches of the bridge of
   Carthage, or walk ye through the desolated theatres of Rome, and ye
   will hear a voice in the wild wind amid those ruins--"I am God, and
   there is none else." "O city, though didst call thyself eternal; I have
   made thee melt away like dew. Though saidst I sit on seven hills, and I
   shall last forever; ' I have made thee crumble, and thou art now a
   miserable and contemptible place, compared with what thou wast. Thou
   wast once stone, thou madest thyself; I have made thee stone again, and
   brought thee low." O! how has God taught monarchies and empires that
   have set themselves up like new kingdoms of heaven. that he is God, and
   that there is none else!

   Again: how has he taught his great truth to monarchs! There are some
   who have been most proud that have had to learn it in a way more hard
   than others. Take, for instance, Nebuchadnezzar. His crown is on his
   head, his purple robe is over his shoulders; he walks through proud
   Babylon, and says, "Is not this great Babylon which I have builded?" Do
   you see that creature in the field there? It is a man. "A man?" say
   you; its hair has grown like eagles' feathers, and its nails like
   birds' claws; it walketh on all-fours, and eateth grass, like an ox; it
   is driven out from men. That is the monarch who said--"Is not this
   great Babylon that I have builded?" And he is now restored to Babylon's
   palace, that he may "bless the Most High who is able to abase those
   that walk in pride." Remember another monarch. Look at Herod. He sits
   in the midst of his people, and he speaks. Hear ye the impious shout?
   "It is the voice of God," they cry, "and not the voice of man." The
   proud monarch gives not God the glory; he affects the God, and seems to
   shake the spheres, imagining himself divine. There is a worm that
   creepeth into his body, and yet another, and another; and ere that sun
   has set, he is eaten up of worms. Ah! monarch! though thoughtest of
   being a god, and worms have eaten thee! thou hast thought of being more
   than man; and what art thou? Less than man, for worms consume thee, and
   thou art the prey of corruption. Thus God humbleth the proud; thus he
   abaseth the mighty. We might give you instances from modern history;
   but the death of a king is all-sufficient to teach this one lesson, if
   men would but learn it. When kings die, and in funeral pomp are carried
   to the grave, we are taught the lesson--"I am God, and beside me there
   is none else." When we hear of revolutions, and the shaking of
   empires--when we see old dynasties tremble, and gray-haired monarchs
   driven from their thrones, then it is that Jehovah seems to put his
   foot upon land and sea, and with his hand uplifted cries--"Hear! ye
   inhabitants of the earth! Ye are but as grasshoppers; I am God, and
   beside me there is none else.'"

   Again: our God has had much to do to teach this lesson to the wise men
   of this world; for as rank, pomp, and power, have set themselves up in
   the place of God, so has wisdom; and one of the greatest enemies of
   Deity has always been the wisdom of man. The wisdom of man will not see
   God. Professing themselves to be wise, wise men have become fools. But
   have ye not noticed, in reading history, how God has abased the pride
   of wisdom? In ages long gone by, he sent mighty minds into the world,
   who devised systems of philosophy. "These systems," they said, "will
   last forever." There pupils thought them infallible, and therefore
   wrote their sayings on enduring parchment, saying, "This book will last
   forever; succeeding generations of men will read it, and to the last
   man that book shall be handed down, as the epitome of wisdom." "Ah!
   but," said God, "that book of yours shall be seen to be folly, ere
   another hundred years have rolled away." And so the mighty thoughts of
   Socrates, and the wisdom of Solon, are utterly forgotten now; and could
   we hear them speak, the veriest child in our schools would laugh to
   think that he understandeth more of philosophy than they. But when man
   has found the vanity of one system, his eyes have sparkled at another;
   if Aristotle will not suffice, here is Bacon; now I shall know
   everything; and he sets to work and says that this new philosophy is to
   last forever. He lays his stones with fair colors, and he thinks that
   every truth he piles up is a precious imperishable truth. But, alas!
   another century comes, and it is found to be "wood, hay, and stubble."
   A new sect of philosophers rise up, who refute their predecessors. So
   too, we have wise men in this day--wise secularists, and so on, who
   fancy they have obtained the truth; but within another fifty years--and
   mark that word--this hair shall not be silvered over with gray, until
   the last of that race shall have perished, and that man shall be
   thought a fool that was ever connected with such a race. Systems of
   infidelity pass away like a dew-drop before the sun, for God says, "I
   am God, and beside me there is none else." This Bible is the stone that
   shall break in powder philosophy; this is the mighty battering ram that
   shall dash all systems of philosophy in pieces; this is the stone that
   a woman may yet hurl upon the head of every Abimelech, and he shall be
   utterly destroyed. O church of God! fear not; thou shalt do wonders;
   wise men shall be confounded, and thou shalt know, and they too, that
   he is God, and that beside him there is none else.

   "Surely," says one, "the Church of God does not need to be taught
   this." Yes, we answer, she does; for of all beings, those whom God has
   made the objects of his grace are perhaps the most apt to forget this
   cardinal truth, that he is God, and that beside him there is none else.
   How did the church in Canaan forget it, when they bowed before other
   gods, and therefore he brought against them mighty kings and princes,
   and afflicted them sore. How did Israel forget it; and he carried them
   away captive into Babylon. And what Israel did, in Canaan and in
   Babylon, that we do now. We too, too often, forget that he is God, and
   beside him there is none else. Doth not the Christian know what I mean,
   when I tell him this great fact? For hath he not done it himself? In
   certain times prosperity has come upon him; soft gales have blown his
   bark along, just where his wild will wished to steer; and he has said
   within himself: "Now I have peace, now I have happiness, now the object
   I wished for is within my grasp, now I will say, Sit down, my soul, and
   take thy rest; eat, drink, and be merry; these things will well content
   me; make thou these thy god, be thou blessed and happy.'" But have we
   not seen our God dash the goblet to the earth, spill the sweet wine,
   and instead thereof fill it with gall? and as he has given it to us, he
   has said--"Drink it, drink it: ye have thought to find a god on earth,
   but drain the cup and know its bitterness." When we have drunk it,
   nauseous the draft was, and we have cried, "Ah! God, I will drink no
   more of these things; thou art God, and beside thee there is none
   else." And ah! how often, too, have we devised schemes for the future,
   without asking God's permission! Men have said, like those foolish ones
   James mentioned, "We will do such-and-such things on the morrow; we
   will buy and sell and get gain." whereas they knew not what was to be
   on the morrow,, for long ere the morrow came they were unable to buy
   and sell; death had claimed them, and a small span of earth held all
   their frame. God teaches his people every day, by sickness, by
   affliction, by depression of spirits, by the forsakings of God, by the
   loss of the Spirit for a season, by the lackings of the joys of his
   countenance, that he is God, and that beside him there is none else.
   And we must not forget that there are some special servants of God
   raised up to do good works, who in a peculiar manner have to learn this
   lesson. Let a man, for instance, be called to the great work of
   preaching the gospel. He is successful; God helped him; thousands wait
   at his feet, and multitudes hang upon his lips; as truly as that man is
   a man, he will have a tendency to be exalted above measure, and too
   much will he begin to look to himself, and too little to his God. Let
   men speak who know, and what they know let them speak; and they will
   say, "It is true, it is most true." If God gives us a special mission,
   we generally begin to take some honor and glory to ourselves. But in
   review of the eminent saints of God, have you never observed how God
   has made them feel that he was God, and beside him there was none else?
   Poor Paul might have thought himself a god, and been puffed up above
   measure, by reason of the greatness of his revelation, had not there
   been a thorn in the flesh. But Paul could feel that he was not a god,
   for he had a thorn in the flesh, and gods could not have thorns in the
   flesh. Sometimes God teaches the minister, by denying him help on
   special occasions. We come up into our pulpits and say, "oh! I wish I
   could have a good day to-day!" We begin to labor; we have been just as
   earnest in prayer, and just as indefatigable; but it is like a blind
   horse turning round a mill, or like Samson with Delilah: we shake our
   vain limbs with vast surprise, "make feeble fight," and win no
   victories. We are made to see that the Lord is God, and that beside him
   there is none else. Very frequently God teaches this to the minister,
   leading him to see his own sinful nature. He will have such an insight
   into his own wicked and abominable heart, that he will feel as he comes
   up the pulpit stairs that he does not deserve so much as to sit in his
   pew, much less to preach to his fellows. Although we feel always joy in
   the declaration of God's Word, yet we have known what it is to totter
   on the pulpit steps, under a sense that the chief of sinners should
   scarcely be allowed to preach to others. Ah! beloved, I do not think he
   will be very successful as a minister who is not taken into the depths
   and blackness of his own soul, and made to exclaim, "Unto me, who am
   less than the least of all saints, is this grace given, that I should
   preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ." There is
   another antidote which God applies in the case of ministers. If he does
   not deal with them personally, he raises up a host of enemies, that it
   may be seen that he is God, and God alone. An esteemed friend sent me,
   yesterday, a valuable old Ms. of one of George Whitefield's hymns which
   was sung on Kennington Common. It is a splendid hymn, thoroughly
   Whitefieldian all through. It showed that his reliance was wholly on
   the Lord, and that God was within him. What! will a man subject himself
   to the calumnies of the multitude, will he toil and work day after day
   unnecessarily, will he stand up Sabbath after Sabbath and preach the
   gospel and have his name maligned and slandered, if he has not the
   grace of God in him? For myself, I can say, that were it not that the
   love of Christ constrained me, this hour might be the last that I
   should preach, so far as the ease of the thing is concerned. "Necessity
   is laid upon us; yea, woe is unto us if we preach not the gospel." But
   that opposition through which God carries his servants, leads them to
   see at once that he is God, and that there is none else. If every one
   applauded, if all were gratified, we should think ourselves God; but,
   when they hiss and hoot, we turn to our God, and cry,

   "If on my face, for thy dear name,

   Shame and reproach should be,

   I'll hail reproach and welcome shame,

   If thou'lt remember me."

   II. This brings us to the second portion of our discourse. Salvation is
   God's greatest work; and, therefore, in his greatest work, he specially
   teaches us this lesson, That he is God, and that beside him there is
   none else. Our text tells us how he teaches it. He says, "Look unto me,
   and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth." He shows us that he is
   God, and that beside him there is none else, in three ways. First, by
   the person to whom he directs us: "look unto me, and be ye saved."
   Secondly, by the means he tells us to use to obtain mercy: "Look,"
   simply, "Look." And thirdly, by the persons whom he calls to "look:"
   "Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth."

   1. First, to whom does God tell us to look for salvation? O, does it
   not lower the pride of man, when we hear the Lord say, "Look unto me,
   and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth?" It is not. "Look to your
   priest, and be ye saved:" if you did, there would be another god, and
   beside him there would be some one else. It is not "Look to yourself;"
   if so, then there would be a being who might arrogate some of the
   praise of salvation. But it is "Look unto me." How frequently you who
   are coming to Christ look to yourselves. "O!" you say, "I do not repent
   enough." That is looking to yourself. "I do not believe enough." That
   is looking to yourself. "I am too unworthy." That is looking to
   yourself. "I cannot discover," says another, "that I have any
   righteousness." It is quite right to say that you have not any
   righteousness; but it is quite wrong to look for any. It is, "Look unto
   me." God will have you turn your eye off yourself and look unto him.
   The hardest thing in the world is to turn a man's eye off himself; as
   long as he lives, he always has a predilection to turn his eyes inside,
   and look at himself; whereas God says, "Look unto me." From the cross
   of Calvary, where the bleeding hands of Jesus drop mercy; from the
   Garden of Gethsemane, where the bleeding pores of the Saviour sweat
   pardons, the cry comes, "Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of
   the earth." From Calvary's summit, where Jesus cries, "It is finished,"
   I hear a shout, "Look, and be saved." But there comes a vile cry from
   our soul, "Nay, look to yourself! look to yourself!" Ah, my hearer,
   look to yourself, and you will be damned. That certainly will come of
   it. As long as you look to yourself there is no hope for you. It is not
   a consideration of what you are, but a consideration of what God is,
   and what Christ is, that can save you. It is looking from yourself to
   Jesus. P! there be men that quite misunderstand the gospel; they think
   that righteousness qualifies them to come to Christ; whereas sin is the
   only qualification for a man to come to Jesus. Good old Crisp says,
   "Righteousness keeps me from Christ: the whole have no need of a
   physician, but they that are sick. Sin makes me come to Jesus, when sin
   is felt; and, in coming to Christ, the more sin I have the more cause I
   have to hope for mercy." David said, and it was a strange thing, too,
   "Have mercy upon me, for mine iniquity is great." But, David, why did
   not you say that it was little? Because, David knew that the bigger his
   sins were, the better reason for asking mercy. The more vile a man is,
   the more eagerly I invite him to believe in Jesus. A sense of sin is
   all we have to look for as ministers. We preach to sinners; and let us
   know that a man will take the title of sinner to himself, and we then
   say to him, "Look unto Christ, and ye shall be saved." "Look," this is
   all he demands of thee, and even this he gives thee. If thou lookest to
   thyself thou art damned; thou art a vile miscreant, filled with
   loathsomeness, corrupt and corrupting others. But look thou here--seest
   thou that man hanging on the cross? Dost thou behold his agonized head
   dropping meekly down upon his breast? Dost thou see that thorny crown,
   causing drops of blood to trickle down his cheeks? Dost thou see his
   hands pierced and rent, and his blest feet, supporting the weight of
   his own frame, rent well-nigh in twain with the cruel nails? Sinner!
   dost thou hear him shriek, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabbacthani?" Dost thou
   hear him cry, "It is finished?" Dost thou mark his head hang down in
   death? Seest thou that side pierced with the spear, and the body taken
   from the cross? O, come thou hither! Those hands were nailed for thee;
   those feet gushed gore for thee; that side was opened wide for thee;
   and if thou wantest to know how thou canst find mercy, there it is.
   "Look!" "Look unto me!" Look no longer to Moses. Look no longer to
   Sinai. Come thou here and look to Calvary, to Calvary's victim, and to
   Joseph's grave. And look thou yonder, to the man who near the throne
   sites with his Father, crowned with light and immortality. "Look,
   sinner," he says, this morning, to you, "Look unto me, and be ye
   saved." It is in this way God teaches that there is none beside him;
   because he makes us look entirely to him, and utterly away from
   ourselves.

   2. But the second thought is, the means of salvation. It is, "Look unto
   me, and be ye saved." You have often observed, I am sure, that many
   people are fond of an intricate worship, and involved religion, one
   they can hardly understand. They cannot endure worship so simple as
   ours. Then they must have a man dressed in white, and a man dressed in
   black; then they must have what they call an altar and a chancel. After
   a little while that will not suffice, and they must have flower-pots
   and candles. The clergyman then becomes a priest, and he must have a
   variegated dress, with a cross on it. So it goes on; what is simply a
   plate becomes a paten, and what was once a cup becomes a chalice; and
   the more complicated the ceremonies are, the better they like them.
   They like their minister to stand like a superior being. The world
   likes a religion they cannot comprehend. But have you never noticed how
   gloriously simple the Bible is? It will not have any of your nonsense;
   it speaks plain, and nothing but plain things. "Look!" There is not an
   unconverted man who likes this, "Look unto Christ, and be ye saved."
   No, he comes to Christ like Naaman to Elijah; and , when it is said,
   "Go, wash in Jordan," he replies, "I verily thought he would come and
   put his hand on the place, and call on the name of his God. But the
   idea of telling me to wash in Jordan, what a ridiculous thing! Anybody
   could do that!" If the prophet had bidden him to do some great thing,
   would he not have done it? Ah! certainly he would. And if, this
   morning, I could preach that any one who walked from here to Bath
   without his shoes and stockings, or did some impossible thing, should
   be saved, you would start off tomorrow morning before breakfast. If it
   would take me seven years to describe the way of salvation, I am sure
   you would all long to hear it. If only one learned doctor could tell
   the way to heaven, how would he be run after! And if it were in hard
   words, with a few scraps of Latin and Greek, it would be all the
   better. But it is a simple gospel that we have to preach. It is only
   "Look!" "Ah!" you say, "Is that the gospel? I shall not pay any
   attention to that." But why has God ordered you to do such a simple
   thing? Just to take down your pride, and to show you that he is God,
   and that beside him there is none else. O, mark how simple the way of
   salvation is. It is "Look! look! look!" Four letters, and two of them
   alike! "Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth." Some
   divines want a week to tell what you are to do to be saved; but God the
   Holy Ghost only wants four letters to do it. "Look unto me, and be ye
   saved, all the ends of the earth." How simple is that way of salvation!
   and O, how instantaneous! It takes us some time to move our hand, buy a
   look does not require a moment. So a sinner believes in a moment; and
   the moment that sinner believes and trusts in his crucified God for
   pardon, at once he receives salvation in full through his blood. There
   may be one that came in here this morning unjustified in his
   conscience, that will go out justified rather than others. There may be
   some here, filthy sinners one moment, pardoned the next. It is done in
   an instant. "Look! look! look!" And how universal it is! Because,
   wherever I am, however far off, it just says, "Look!" It does not say I
   am to see; it only says, "Look!" If we look on a thing in the dark, we
   cannot see it; but we have done what we were told. So, if a sinner only
   looks to Jesus he will save him; for Jesus in the dark is as good as
   Jesus in the light; and Jesus, when you cannot see him, is as good as
   Jesus when you can. It is only, "Look!" "Ah! says one, "I have been
   trying to see Jesus this year, but I have not seen him." It does not
   say, see him, but "Look unto him." And it says that they who looked
   were enlightened. If there is an obstacle before you, and you only look
   in the right direction, it is sufficient. "Look unto me." It is not
   seeing Christ so much as looking after him. The will after Christ, the
   wish after Christ, the desire after Christ, the trusting in Christ, the
   hanging on Christ, that is what is wanted. "Look! look! look!" Ah! if
   the man bitten by the serpent had turned his sightless eyeballs towards
   the brazen serpent, though he had not seen it, he would still have had
   his life restored. It is looking, not seeing, that saves the sinner.

   We say again, how this humbles a man! There is a gentleman who says,
   "Well, if it had been a thousand pounds that would have saved me, I
   would have thought nothing of it." But gold and silver is cankered; it
   is good for nothing. "Then, am I to be saved just the same as my
   servant Betty?" Yes, just the same; there is no other way of salvation
   for you. That is to show man that Jehovah is God, and that beside him
   there is none else. The wise man says, "If it had been to work the most
   wonderful problem, or to solve the greatest mystery, I would have done
   it. May I not have some mysterious gospel? May I not believe in some
   mysterious religion?" No; it is "Look!" "What! am I to be saved just
   like that Ragged School Boy, who can't read his letters?" Yes, you
   must, or you will not be saved at all. Another says, "I have been very
   moral and upright; I have observed all the laws of the land; and, if
   there is anything else to do, I will do it. I will eat only fish on
   Fridays, and keep all the fasts of the church, if that will save me."
   No, sir, that will not save you; your good works are good for nothing.
   "What! must I be saved in the same way as a harlot or a drunkard?" Yes,
   sir; there is only one way of salvation for all. "He hath concluded all
   in unbelief, that he might have mercy upon all." He hath passed a
   sentence of condemnation on all, that the free grace of God might come
   upon many to salvation. "Look! look! look!" This is the simple method
   of salvation. "Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the
   earth."

   But, lastly, mark how God has cut down the pride of man, and has
   exalted himself by the persons whom he has called to look. "Look unto
   me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth." When the Jew heard
   Isaiah say that, "Ah!" he exclaimed, "you ought to have said, Look unto
   me, O Jerusalem, and be saved.' That would have been right. But those
   Gentile dogs, are they to look and be saved?" "Yes," says God; "I will
   show you Jews, that, though I have given you many privileges, I will
   exalt others above you; I can do as I will with my own."

   Now, who are the ends of the earth? Why, there are poor heathen nations
   now that are very few degrees removed from brutes, uncivilized and
   untaught; but if I might go and tread the desert, and find the Bushman
   in his kraal, or go to the South Seas and find a cannibal, I would say
   to the cannibal or the Bushman, "Look unto Jesus, and be ye saved, all
   the ends of the earth." They are some of "the ends of the earth," and
   the gospel is sent to as much to them as to the polite Grecians, the
   refined Romans, or the educated Britons. But I think "the ends of the
   earth" imply those who have gone the farthest away from Christ. I say,
   drunkard, that means you. You have been staggering back. till you have
   got right to the ends of the earth; you have almost had delirium
   tremens; you cannot be much worse. There is not a man breathing worse
   than you. Is there? Ah! but God, in order to humble your pride, says to
   you, "Look unto me, and be ye saved." There is another who has lived a
   life of infamy and sin, until she has ruined herself, and even Satan
   seems to sweep her out at the back door; but God says, "Look unto me,
   and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth." Methinks I see one
   trembling here, and saying, "Ah, I have not been one of these, sir, but
   I have been something worse; for I have attended the house of God, and
   I have stifled convictions, and put off all thoughts of Jesus, and now
   I think he will never have mercy on me." You are one of them. "Ends of
   the earth!" So long as I find any who feel like that, I can tell them
   that they are "the ends of the earth." "But," says another, "I am so
   peculiar; if I did not feel as I do, it would be all very well; but I
   feel that my case is a peculiar one." That is all right; they are a
   peculiar people. You will do. But another one says, "There is nobody in
   the world like me; I do not think you will find a being under the sun
   that has had so many calls, and put them all away, and so many sins on
   his head. Besides, I have guilt that I should not like to confess to
   any living creature." One of "the ends of the earth" again; therefore,
   all I have to do is to cry out, in the Master's name, "Look unto me,
   and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth: for I am God, and there is
   none else." But thou sayest, sin will not let thee look. I tell thee,
   sin will be removed the moment thou dost look. "But I dare not; he will
   condemn me; I fear to look." He will condemn thee more if thou dost not
   look. Fear, then, and look; but do not let thy fearing keep thee from
   looking. "But he will cast me out." Try him. "But I cannot see him." I
   tell you, it is not seeing, but looking. "But my eyes are so fixed on
   the earth, so earthly, so worldly." Ah! but, poor soul, he giveth power
   to look and live. He saith, "Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the
   ends of the earth."

   Take this, dear friends, for a new year's text, both ye who love the
   Lord, and ye who are only looking for the first time. Christian! in all
   thy troubles through this year, look unto God and be saved. In all thy
   trials and afflictions, look unto Christ, and find deliverance. In all
   thine agony, poor soul, in all thy repentance for thy guilt, look unto
   Christ, and find pardon. This year, remember to put thine eyes
   heavenward, and thine heart heavenward, too. Remember, this day, that
   thou bind round thyself a golden chain, and put one link of it in the
   staple of heaven. Look unto Christ; fear not. There is no stumbling
   when a man walks with his eyes up to Jesus. He that looked at the stars
   fell into the ditch; but he that looks at Christ walks safely. Keep
   your eyes up all the year long. "Look unto him, and be ye saved;" and
   remember that "he is God, and beside him there is none else." And thou,
   poor trembler, what sayest thou? Wilt thou begin the year by looking
   unto him? You know how sinful you are this morning; you know how filthy
   you are; and yet it is possible that, before you open your pew door,
   and get into the aisle, you will be as justified as the apostles before
   the throne of God. It is possible that, ere you foot treads the
   threshold of your door, you will have lost the burden that has been on
   your back, and you will go on your way, singing, "I am forgiven, I am
   forgiven; I am a miracle of grace; this day is my spiritual birthday."
   O, that it might be such to many of you, that at last I might say,
   "Here am I, and the children thou hast given me." Hear this, convinced
   sinner! "This poor man cried, and the Lord delivered him out of his
   distresses." O, taste and see that the Lord is good! Now believe on
   him; now cast thy guilty soul upon his righteousness; now plunge thy
   black soul into the bath of his blood; now put thy naked soul at the
   door of the wardrobe of his righteousness; now seat thy famished soul
   at the feast of plenty. Now, "Look!" How simple does it seem! And yet
   it is the hardest thing in the world to bring men to. They never will
   do it, till constraining grace makes them. Yet there it is, "Look!" Go
   thou away with that thought. "Look unto me, and be ye saved, all the
   ends of the earth: for I am God, and there is none else."
     __________________________________________________________________

                              The Beatific Vision

   A Sermon

   (No. 61)

   Delivered on Sabbath Morning, January 20, 1856, by the

   REV. C.H. SPURGEON

   At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

   "We shall see him as he is."--1 John 3:2.

   IT IS one of the most natural desires in all the world, that when we
   hear of a great and a good man, we should wish to see his person. When
   we read the works of any eminent author, we are accustomed to turn to
   the frontispiece to look for his portrait. When we hear of any wondrous
   deed of daring, we will crowd our windows to see the warrior ride
   through the streets. When we know of any man who is holy, and who is
   eminently devoted to his work, we will not mind tarrying anywhere, if
   we may but have a glimpse of him whom God has so highly blessed. This
   feeling becomes doubly powerful when we have any connection with the
   man; when we feel, not only that he is good to us; not only that he is
   benevolent, but that he has been a benefactor to us as individuals.
   Then the wish to see him rises to a craving desire, and the desire is
   insatiable until it can satisfy itself in seeing that unknown, and
   hitherto unseen donor, who has done such wondrously good deeds for us.
   I am sure, my brethren, you will all confess that this strong desire
   has arisen in your minds concerning the Lord Jesus Christ. We owe to
   none so much; we talk of none so much, we hope, and we think of none so
   much: at any rate, no one so constantly thinks of us. We have I
   believe, all of us who love his name, a most insatiable wish to behold
   his person. The thing for which I would pray above all others, would be
   for ever to behold his face, for ever to lay my head upon his breast,
   for ever to know that I am his, for ever to dwell with him. Ay, one
   short glimpse, one transitory vision of his glory, one brief glance at
   his marred, but now exalted and beaming countenance, would repay almost
   a world of trouble. We have a strong desire to see him. Nor do I think
   that that desire is wrong. Moses himself asked that he might see God.
   Had it been a wrong wish arising out of vain curiosity, it would not
   have been granted, but God granted Moses his desire: he put him in the
   cleft of the rock, shaded him with his hands, bade him look at the
   skirts of his garments, because his face could not be seen. Yea, more;
   the earnest desire of the very best of men has been in the same
   direction. Job said, "I know that my Redeemer liveth, and though worms
   devour this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God:" that was his
   desire. The holy Psalmist said, "I shall be satisfied when I awake in
   thy likeness;" "I shall behold thy face in righteousness." And most
   saints on their death-beds have expressed their fondest, dearest, and
   most blessed wish for heaven, in the expression of longing "to be with
   Christ, which is far better." And not ill did our sweet singer of
   Israel put the words together, when he humbly said, and sweetly too:--

   "Millions of years my wondering eyes

   Shall o'er thy beauties rove;

   And endless ages I'll adore

   The glories of thy love."

   We are rejoiced to find such a verse as this, for it tells us that our
   curiosity shall be satisfied, our desire consummated, our bliss
   perfected. "WE SHALL SEE HIM AS HE IS." Heaven shall be ours, and all
   we ever dreamed of him shall be more than in our possession.

   By the help of God's mighty Spirit, who alone can put words in our
   mouths, let us speak first of all concerning the glorious position--"AS
   HE IS;" secondly, his personal identity--"we shall see HIM as he is;"
   thirdly, the positive vision--"WE SHALL SEE him as he is;" and
   fourthly, the actual persons--"WE shall see him as he is."

   I. First then, THE GLORIOUS POSITION. Our minds often revert to Christ
   as he was, and as such we have desired to see him. Ah! how often have
   we wished to see the babe that slept in Bethlehem! How earnestly have
   we desired to see the man who talked with the woman at the well! How
   frequently have we wished that we might see the blessed Physician
   walking amongst the sick and dying, giving life with his touch, and
   healing with his breath! How frequently too have our thoughts retired
   to Gethsemane, and we have wished our eyes were strong enough to pierce
   through eighteen hundred and fifty years which part us from that
   wondrous spectacle, that we might see him as he was! We shall never see
   him thus; Bethlehem's glories are gone for ever; Calvary's glooms are
   swept away; Gethsemane's scene is dissolved; and even Tabor's
   splendours are quenched in the past. They are as things that were;
   sponge, the nails--these are not. The manger and the rocky tomb are
   gone. The places are there, unsanctified by Christian feet, unblessed,
   unhallowed by the presence of their Lord. We shall never see him as he
   was. In vain our fancy tries to paint it, or our imagination to fashion
   it. We cannot, must not, see him as he was; nor do we wish, for we have
   a larger promise, "We shall see him as he is." Come, just look at that
   a few moments by way of contrast, and then I am sure you will prefer to
   see Christ as he is, rather than behold him as he was.

   Consider, first of all, that we shall not see him abased in his
   incarnation, but exalted in his glory. We are not to see the infant of
   a span long; we are not to admire the youthful boy; we are not to
   address the incipient man; we are not to pity the man wiping the hot
   sweat from his burning brow; we are not to behold him shivering in the
   midnight air; we are not to behold him subject to pains, and
   weaknesses, and sorrows, and infirmities like ours. We are not to see
   the eye wearied by sleep; we are not to behold hands tired in labour;
   we are not to behold feet bleeding with arduous journeys, too long for
   their strength. We are not to see him with his soul distressed; we are
   not to behold him abased and sorrowful. Oh! the sight is better still.
   We are to see him exalted. We shall see the head, but not with its
   thorny crown.

   "The head that once was crowned with thorns,

   Is crown'd with glory now."

   We shall see the hand, and the nail-prints too, but not the nail; it
   has been once drawn out, and for ever. We shall see his side, and its
   pierced wound too, but the blood shall not issue from it. We shall see
   him not with a peasant's garb around him, but with the empire of the
   universe upon his shoulders. We shall see him, not with a reed in his
   hand, but grasping a golden sceptre. We shall see him, not as mocked
   and spit upon and insulted, not bone of our bone, in all our agonies,
   afflictions, and distresses; but we shall see him exalted; no longer
   Christ the man of sorrows, the acquaintance of grief, but Christ the
   Man-God, radiant with splendour, effulgent with light, clothed with
   rainbows, girded with clouds, wrapped in lightnings, crowned with
   stars, the sun beneath his feet. Oh! glorious vision! How can we guess
   what he is? What words can tell us? or how can we speak thereof? Yet
   whate'er he is, with all his splendour unveiled, all his glories
   unclouded, and himself unclothed--we shall see him as he is.

   Remember again: we are not to see Christ as he was, the despised, the
   tempted one. We shall never see Christ sitting in the wilderness, while
   the arch-traitor says to him, "If thou be the Son of God command that
   these stones be made bread." We shall not see him standing firmly on
   the temple's pinnacle, bidding defiance to the evil one who bids him
   cast himself down from his towering height. We shall not see him erect
   on the mountain of temptation, with the earth offered to him if he will
   but crouch at the feet of the demon. Nay; nor shall we see him mocked
   by Pharisees, tempted by Sadducees, laughed at by Herodians. We shall
   not behold him with the finger of scorn pointed at him. We shall never
   see him called a "drunken man, and a wine-bibber." We shall never see
   the calumniated, the insulted, the molested, the despised Jesus. He
   will not be seen as one from whom we shall hide our faces, who "was
   despised, and we esteemed him not." Never shall these eyes see those
   blessed cheeks dripping with the spittle; never shall these hands touch
   that blessed hand of his while stained with infamy. We shall not see
   him despised of men and oppressed; but "we shall see him as he is."

   "No more the bloody spear,

   The cross and nails no more;

   For hell itself shakes at his name,

   And all the heavens adore."

   No tempting devil near him; for the dragon is beneath his feet. No
   insulting men; for lo! the redeemed cast their crowns before his feet.
   no molesting demons; for angels sound his lofty praise through every
   golden street; princes bow before him; the kings of the isles bring
   tribute; all nations pay him homage, while the great God of heaven and
   earth shining on him, gives him mighty honor. We shall see him,
   beloved, not abhorred, not despised and rejected, but worshipped,
   honored, crowned, exalted, served by flaming spirits, and worshipped by
   cherubim and seraphim. "We shall see him as he is."

   Mark again. We shall not see the Christ wrestling with pain, but Christ
   as a conqueror. We shall never see him tread the winepress alone, but
   we shall see him when we shall cry, "Who is this that cometh from Edom,
   with dyed garments from Bozrah? this that is glorious in his apparel,
   travelling in the greatness of his strength?" We shall never see him as
   when he stood foot to foot with his enemy: but we shall see him when
   his enemy is beneath his feet. We shall never see him as the bloody
   sweat streams from his whole body; but we shall see him as he hath put
   all things under him, and hath conquered hell itself. We shall never
   see him as the wrestler; but we shall see him grasp the prize. We shall
   never see him sealing the rampart; but we shall see him wave the sword
   of victory on the top thereof. We shall not see him fight; but we shall
   see him return from the fight victorious, and shall cry, "Crown him!
   Crown him! Crowns become the victor's brow." "We shall see him as he
   is."

   Yet again. We shall never see our Saviour under his Father's
   displeasure; but we shall see him honored by his Father's smile. The
   darkest hour of Christ's life was when his Father forsook him--that
   gloomy hour when his Father's remorseless hand held the cup to his
   Son's own lips, and bitter though it was said to him, "Drink my
   Son--ay, drink;" and when the quivering Saviour, for a moment, having
   man within him--strong in its agonies for the moment, said, "My Father,
   if it be possible, let this cup pass from me." Oh! it was a dark moment
   when the Father's ears were deaf to his Son's petitions, when the
   Father's eyes were closed upon his Son's agonies. "My Father," said the
   Son, "Canst thou not remove the cup? Is there no way else for thy
   severe justice? Is there no other medium for man's salvation?" There is
   none! Ah! it was a terrible moment when he tasted the wormwood and the
   gall; and surely darker still was that sad mid-day-midnight, when the
   sun hid his face in darkness while Jesus cried "My God, my God, why
   hast thou forsaken me?" Believer, thou wilt never see that sick face;
   thou wilt never see those tearful eyes; thou wilt never see that pale
   emaciated body; thou wilt never see that weary, weary heart! thou wilt
   never see that exceedingly sorrowful spirit; for the Father never turns
   his face away now. But what wilt thou see? Thou wilt see thy Lord lit
   up with his Father's light as well as with his own; thou wilt see him
   caressed by his beloved Parent; thou wilt see him sitting at his
   Father's right hand, glorified and exalted for ever. "We shall see him
   as he is."

   Perhaps I have not shown clearly enough the difference between the two
   visions--the sight of what he was and what he is. Allow me then, a
   moment more, and I will try and make it clearer still. When we see
   Christ as he was how astonished we are! One of the first feelings we
   should have, if we could have gone to the Mount of Olives and seen our
   Saviour sweating there, would have been, astonishment. When we were
   told that it was the Son of God in agonies, we should have lifted up
   our hands, and there would have been no speech in us at the thought.
   But then, beloved, here is the difference. The believer will be as much
   astonished when he sees Jesus' glories as he sits on his throne, as he
   would have been to have seen him in his earthly sufferings. The one
   would have been astonishment, and horror would have succeeded it; but
   when we see Jesus as he is, it will be astonishment without horror. We
   shall not for one moment feel terrified at the sight, but rather

   "Our joys shall run eternal rounds,

   Beyond the limits of the skies.

   And earth's remotest bounds."

   If we could see Jesus as he was, we should see him with great awe. If
   we had seen him walking on the water, what awe should we have felt! If
   we had seen him raising the dead, we should have thought him a most
   majestic Being. So we shall feel awe when we see Christ on his throne;
   but the first kind of awe is awe compounded with fear, for when they
   saw Jesus walking on the water they cried out and were afraid; but when
   we shall see Christ as he is, we shall say,

   "Majestic sweetness sits enthroned

   Upon his awful brow."

   There will be no fear with the awe--but it will be awe without fear. We
   shall not bow before him with trembling, but it will be with joy; we
   shall not shake at his presence, but rejoice with joy unspeakable.
   Furthermore, if we had seen Christ as he was, we should have had great
   love for him; but that love would have been compounded with pity. We
   should stand over him, and say,

   "Alas! and did my Saviour bleed,

   And did my Sovereign die?

   Would he devote that sacred head

   For such a worm as I?"

   We shall love him quite as much when we see him in heaven, and more
   too, but it will be love without pity; we shall not say "Alas!" but we
   shall shout--

   "All-hail, the power of Jesu's name;

   Let angels prostrate fall:

   Bring forth the royal diadem,

   And crown him Lord of all."

   Once again. If we had seen Jesus Christ as he was here below, there
   would have been joy to think that he came to save us; but we should
   have had sorrow mingled with it to think that we needed saving. Our
   sins would make us grieve that he should die; and "alas!" would burst
   from us even with a song of joy. But when we see him, there it will be
   joy without sorrow; sin and sorrow itself will have gone; ours will be
   a pure, unmingled, unadulterated joy.

   Yet more. If we had seen our Saviour as he was, it would have been a
   triumph to see how he conquered, but still there would have been
   suspense about it. We should have feared lest he might not overcome.
   But when we see him up there it will be triumph without suspense.
   Sheathe the sword; the battle's won. Tis over now. "Tis finished," has
   been said. The grave has been past; the gates have been opened; and
   now, henceforth, and for ever, he sitteth down at his Father's right
   hand, from whence also he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.

   Here, then, is the difference. "We shall see him as he is." We shall
   feel astonishment without horror, awe without fear, love without pity,
   joy without sorrow, triumph without suspense. That is the glorious
   position. Poor words, why fail ye? Poor lips, why speak ye not much
   better? If ye could, ye would; for these are glorious things ye speak
   of. "WE SHALL SEE HIM AS HE IS."

   II. Now secondly, we have PERSONAL IDENTITY. Perhaps while I have been
   speaking, some have said, "Ah! but I want to see the Saviour, the
   Saviour of Calvary, the Saviour of Judea, the very one that died for
   me. I do not so much pant to see the glorious Saviour you have spoken
   of; I want to see that very Saviour who did the works of love, the
   suffering Saviour; for him I love." Beloved, you shall see him. It is
   the same one. There is personal identity. "We shall see him." "Our eyes
   shall see him and not another." "We shall see HIM as he is." It is a
   charming thought that we shall see the very, very Christ; and the poet
   sung well, who said--

   "Oh! how the thought that I shall know

   The man that suffered here below,

   To manifest his favour,

   For me, and those whom most I love,

   Or here, or with himself above,

   Does my delighted passion move,

   At that sweet word "for ever."

   For ever to behold him shine,

   For evermore to call him mine,

   And see him still before me.

   For ever on his face to gaze,

   And meet his full assembled rays,

   While all the Father he displays,

   To all the saints for ever."

   That is what we want--to see the same Saviour. Ay, it will be the same
   Lord we shall see in heaven. Our eyes shall see him and not another. We
   shall be sure it is he; for when we enter heaven we shall know him by
   his manhood and Godhead. We shall find him a man, even as much as he
   was on earth. We shall find him man and God too, and we shall be quite
   sure there never was another Man-God; we never read or dreamed of
   another. Don't suppose that when you get to heaven you will have to ask
   "Where is the man Christ Jesus?" You will see him straight before you
   on his throne, a man like yourselves.

   "Bright like a man the Saviour sits;

   The God, how bright he shines."

   But then you will know Christ by his wounds. Have you never heard of
   mothers having recognized their children years after they were lost by
   the marks and wounds upon their bodies? Ah! beloved, if we ever see our
   Saviour we shall know him by his wounds. "But," you say, "They are all
   gone." Oh no; for he

   "Looks like a Lamb that once was slain,

   And wears his priesthood still."

   The hands are still pierced, though the nails are not there; the feet
   have still the openings through them; and the side is still gaping
   wide; and we shall know him by his wounds. We have heard of some who on
   the battle-field have been seeking for the dead; they have turned their
   faces up and looked at them, but knew them not. But the tender wife as
   come, and there was some deep wound, some sabre cut that her husband
   had received upon his breast, and she said "It is he; I know him by
   that wound." So in heaven we shall in a moment detect our Saviour by
   his wounds, and shall say "it is he; it is he--he who once said, They
   have pierced my hands and my feet.'"

   But then, beloved, Christ and we are not strangers; for we have often
   seen him in this glass of the Word. When by the Holy Spirit our poor
   eyes have been anointed with eye-salve, we have sometimes caught a
   sufficient glimpse of Christ to know him by it. We have never seen him
   except reflectedly. When we have looked on the Bible, he has been above
   us and looked down upon it; and we have looked there as into a looking
   glass, and have seen him "as in a glass darkly." But we have seen
   enough of him to know him. And oh, methinks when I see him, I shall
   say, "That is the bridegroom I read of in Solomon's Song; I am sure it
   is the same Lord that David used to sing of. I know that is Jesus, for
   he looks even now like that Jesus who said to the poor woman, Neither
   do I condemn thee,'--like that blessed Jesus who said "Talitha
   Cumi,'--'Maid, I say unto thee, arise.'" We shall know him, because he
   will be so much like the Bible Jesus, that we shall recognise him at
   once.

   Yet more, we have known him better than by Scripture sometimes--by
   close and intimate fellowship with him. Why, we meet Jesus in the dark
   sometimes; but we have sweet conversation with him, and he puts his
   lips against our ear, and our lip goes so close to his ear, when we
   hold converse with him. Oh! we shall know him well enough when we see
   him. You may trust the believer for knowing his Master when he finds
   him. We shall not need to have Jesus Christ introduced to us when we go
   to heaven; for if he were off his throne and sitting down with all the
   rest of the blessed spirits, we should go up to him directly, and
   say--"Jesus, I know thee." The devil knew him, for he said, "Jesus I
   know;" and I am sure God's people ought to know him. "Jesus, I know
   thee," we shall say at once, as we go up to him. "How dost thou know
   me?" saith Jesus. "Why sweet Jesus, we are no stranger, thou hast
   manifested thyself to me as thou dost not unto the world; thou hast
   given me sometimes such tokens of thy gracious affection; dost thou
   think I have forgotten thee? Why, I have seen thy hands and thy feet
   sometimes by faith, and I have put my hand into thy side, like Thomas,
   of old; and thinkest thou that I am a stranger to thee? No, blessed
   Jesus; if thou wert to put thine hand before thine eyes, and hide thy
   countenance I should know thee then. Wert thou blindfolded once more,
   mine eyes would tell thee, for I have known thee too long to doubt thy
   personality." Believer, take this thought with thee: "we shall see
   him," despite all the changes in his position. It will be the same
   person. We shall see the same hands that were pierced, the same feet
   that were weary, the same lips that preached, the same eyes that wept,
   the same heart that heaved with agony; positively the same, except as
   to his condition. "We shall see him." Write the word HIM as large as
   you like. "We shall see him as he is."

   III. This brings us to the third point--THE POSITIVE NATURE OF THE
   VISION "We shall see him as he is." This is not the land of sight; it
   is too dark a country to see him, and our eyes are not good enough. We
   walk here by faith, and not by sight. It is pleasant to believe his
   grace, but we had rather see it. Well, "We shall see him." But perhaps
   you think, when it says, "We shall see him," that it means, we shall
   know more about him; we shall think more of him; we shall get better
   views of him by faith. Oh, no, it does not at all. It means what it
   says--positive sight. Just as plainly as I can see my brother there,
   just as plainly as I can see any one of you, shall I see Christ--with
   these very eyes too. With these very eyes that look on you shall I look
   on the Saviour. It is not a fancy that we shall see him. Do not begin
   cutting these words to pieces. Do you see that gas lamp? You will see
   the Saviour in the same fashion--naturally, positively, really,
   actually? You will not see him dreamily, you will not see him in the
   poetical sense of the word--see, you will not see him in the
   metaphorical meaning of the word; but positively, you shall "see him as
   he is." "See him:" mark that. Not think about him, and dream about him;
   but we shall positively "see him as he is." How different that sight of
   him will be from that which we have here. For here we see him by
   reflection. Now, I have told you before, we see Christ "through a glass
   darkly:" and he says that means, "Here we look through a telescope, and
   we see Christ only darkly through it." But the good man had forgotten
   that telescopes were not invented till hundreds of years after Paul
   wrote; so that Paul could not have intended telescopes. Others have
   tried to give other meanings to the word. The fact is, glass was never
   used to see through at that time. They used glass to see by, but not to
   see through. The only glass they had for seeing was a glass mirror.
   They had some glass which was no brighter than our black common
   bottle-glass. "Here we see through a glass darkly." That means, by
   means of a mirror. As I have told you, Jesus is represented in the
   Bible; there is his portrait; we look on the Bible, and we see it. We
   see him "through a glass darkly." Just as sometimes, when you are
   looking in your looking glass, you see somebody going along in the
   street. You do not see the person; you only see him reflected. Now, we
   see Christ reflected; but then we shall not see him in the
   looking-glass; we shall positively see his person. Not the reflected
   Christ, not Christ in the sanctuary, not the mere Christ shining out of
   the Bible, not Christ reflected from the sacred pulpit; but "we shall
   see him as he is."

   Again: how partially we see Christ here. The best believer only gets
   half a glimpse of Christ. While here one Christian sees Christ's
   glorious head, and he delights much in the hope of his coming; another
   beholds his wounds, and he always preaches the atonement: another looks
   into his heart, and he glories most in immutability and the doctrine of
   election; another only looks at Christ's manhood, and he speaks much
   concerning the sympathy of Christ with believers; another thinks more
   of his Godhead, and you will always hear him asserting the divinity of
   Christ. I do not think there is a believer who has seen the whole of
   Christ. No. We preach as much as we can do of the Master; but we cannot
   paint him wholly. Some of the best paintings, you know, only just give
   the head and shoulders; they do not give the full-length portrait.
   There is no believer, there is no choice divine, that could paint a
   full-length portrait of Christ. There are some of you who could not
   paint much more than his little finger; and mark, if we can paint the
   little finger of Jesus well, it will be worth a life-time to be able to
   do that. Those who paint best cannot paint even his face fully. Ah! he
   is so glorious and wondrous, that we cannot fully portray him. We have
   not seen him more than partially. Come, beloved; how much dost thou
   know of Christ? Thou wilt say, "Ah! I know some little of him; I could
   join with the spouse, when she declares that he is altogether lovely;
   but I have not surveyed him from head to foot, and on his wondrous
   glories I cannot fully dwell." Here we see Christ partially; there we
   shall see Christ entirely, when "we shall see him as he is."

   Here, too, how dimly we see Christ! It is through many shadows that we
   now behold our Master. Dim enough is the vision here; but there "we
   shall see him as he is." Have you never stood upon the hill-tops, when
   the mist has played on the valley? You have looked down to see the city
   and the streamlet below; you could just ken yonder steeple, and mark
   that pinnacle; you could see that dome in the distance; but they were
   all so swathed in the mist that you could scarcely discern them.
   Suddenly the wind has blown away from the mist from under you, and you
   have seen the fair, fair valley. Ah! it is so when the believer enters
   heaven. Here he stands and looks upon Christ veiled in a mist--upon a
   Jesus who is shrouded; but when he gets up there, on Pisgah's brow,
   higher still, with his Jesus, then he shall not see him dimly, but he
   shall see him brightly. We shall see Jesus then "without a veil
   between"--not dimly, but face to face.

   Here, too, how distantly we see Christ! Almost as far off as the
   farthest star! We see him, but not nigh; we behold him, but not near to
   us; we catch some glimpse of him; but oh! what lengths and distances
   lie between! What hills of guilt--a heavy load! But then we shall see
   him closely; we shall see him face to face; as a man talketh with his
   friend, even so shall we then talk with Jesus. Now we are distant from
   him; then we shall be near to him. Away in the highlands, where Jesus
   dwells, there shall our hearts be too, when heart and body shall be
   "present with the Lord."

   And oh! how transitory is our view of Jesus! It is only a little while
   we get a glimpse of Christ, and then he seems to depart from us. Our
   chariots have sometimes been like Amminadib's; but in a little while
   the wheels are all gone, and we have lost the blessed Lord. Have you
   not some hours in your life felt so to be in the presence of Christ,
   that you scarcely knew where you were? Talk of Elijah's chariots and
   horses of fire; you were on fire yourself; you could have made yourself
   into a horse and chariot of fire, and gone to heaven easily enough. But
   then, all of a sudden, did you never feel as if a lump of ice had
   fallen on your heart, and put the fire out, and you have cried, "Where
   is my beloved gone! Why hath he hidden his face? Oh! how dark how dim!"
   But, Christians, there will be no hidings of faces in heaven! Blessed
   Lord Jesus! there will be no coverings of thine eyes in glory; Is not
   thine heart a sea of love, where all my passions roll? And there is no
   ebb-tide of thy sea, sweet Jesus, there. Art thou not everything? There
   will be no losing thee there--no putting thy hand before thine eyes up
   there; but without a single alteration, without change or diminution,
   our unwearied, unclouded eyes, shall throughout eternity perpetually
   behold thee. "We shall see him as he is!" Blest sight! Oh! that it were
   come!

   Then do you know, there will be another difference. When "we shall see
   him as he is;" how much better that sight will be than what we have
   here! When we see Christ here, we see him to our profit; when we see
   him there, we shall see him to our perfection. I bear my Master
   witness, I never saw him yet, without being profited by him. There are
   many men in this world whom we see very often, and get very little good
   by, and the less we see of them the better; but of our Jesus we can
   say, we never come near him without receiving good by him. I never
   touched his garments yet, without feeling that my fingers did smell
   myrrh, and aloes, and cassia out of the ivory palaces. I never did come
   near his lips, but what his very breath shed perfume on me. I was never
   near my Master yet, but what he slew some sin for me. I never have
   approached him, but his blessed eyes burned a lust out of my heart for
   me. I have never come near to hear him speak, but I felt I was melting
   when the Beloved spoke; being conformed into his image. But, then
   beloved, it will not be to improve us, it will be to perfect us, when
   we see him there. "We shall be like him; for we shall see him as he
   is." Oh! that first sweet look on Christ, when we shall have left the
   body! I am clothed in rags: he looks upon me, and I am clothed in robes
   of light. I am black; he looks upon me, and I forget the tents of
   Kedar, and become white as the curtains of Solomon. I am defiled; sin
   has looked upon me, and there is filth upon my garments: lo, I am
   whiter than the driven snow, for he hath looked upon me. I have evil
   wishes and evil thoughts, but they have fled like the demon before his
   face, when he said, "Get thee hence, Satan; I command thee to come out
   of the man." "We shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is." I
   know, beloved, the Saviour seems to you like a great ship, and I like
   some small boat, trying to pull the ship out of the harbour. It is how
   I feel myself. I have the oars, I am trying to pull; but it is such a
   glorious big ship, that I cannot pull it out. There are some subjects
   the rudder of which I can take hold of and guide anywhere; they will
   come out of any harbour, let the passage be ever so narrow; but this is
   a noble ship--so big that we can hardly get it out to sea. It needs the
   Holy Ghost to blow the sails for you, and your whole souls to dwell
   upon it, and desire to think of this wondrous sight; and then I hope
   you will go away dissatisfied with the preacher, because you will feel
   that the subject had altogether mastered him and you also.

   IV. Lastly, here are THE ACTUAL PERSONS: "We shall see him as he is."
   Come, now, beloved! I do not like diving you; it seems hard work that
   you and I should be split asunder, when I am sure we love each other
   with all our hearts. Ten thousand deeds of kindness received from you,
   ten thousand acts of heart-felt love and sympathy, knit my heart to my
   people. But oh! beloved, is it not obvious, that when we say, "we shall
   see him," the word "we" does not signify all of us--does not include
   everybody here! "We shall see him as he is!" Come, let us divide that
   "we" into "I's." How many "I's" are there here, that will "see him as
   he is?"

   Brother, with snow upon thy head, wilt thou "see him as he is?" Thou
   hast had many years of fighting and trying, and trouble: if thou ever
   dost "see him as he is," that will pay for all. "Yes," sayest thou, "I
   know in whom I have believed." Well, brother, thine old dim eyes will
   need no spectacles soon. To "see him as he is," will give thee back thy
   youth's bright beaming eye, with all its lustre and its fire. But are
   thy grey hairs full of sin? and doth lust tarry in thy old cold blood?
   Ah! thou shalt see him, but not nigh; thou shalt be driven from his
   presence. Would God this arm were strong enough to drag thee to a
   Saviour; but it is not. I leave thee in his hands. God save thee!

   And thou, dear brother, and thou, dear sister, who hast come to middle
   age, struggling with the toils of life, mixed up with all its battles,
   enduring its ills, thou art asking, it may be, shalt thou see him! The
   text says, "We shall;" and can you and I put our hands on our hearts
   and know our union with Jesus? If so, "We shall see him as he is."
   Brother! fight on! Up at the devil! Strike hard at him! Fear not! that
   sight of Christ will pay thee. Soldier of the cross, whet thy sword
   again, and let it cut deep. Labourer! toil again; delve deeper; life
   the axe higher, with a brawnier and stouter arm; for the sight of thy
   Master at last will please thee well. Up, warrior! Up the rampart, for
   victory sits smiling on the top, and thou shalt meet thy Captain there!
   When thy sword is reeking with the blood of thy sins, it will be a
   glory indeed to meet thy master, when thou art clothed with triumph,
   and then to "see him as he is."

   Young man, my brother in age, the text says, "We shall see him as he
   is." Does "we" mean that young man there in the aisle? Does it mean
   you, my brother, up there? Shall we "see him as he is?" We are not
   ashamed to call each other brethren in this house of prayer. Young man,
   you have got a mother and her soul doats upon you. Could your mother
   come to you this morning, she might take hold of your arm, and say to
   you, "John, we shall see him as he is;' it is not I, John, that shall
   see him for myself alone, but you and I shall see him together, 'we
   shall see him as he is.'" Oh! bitter, bitter thought that just now
   crossed my soul! O heavens! if we ever should be sundered from those we
   love so dearly when the last day of account shall come! Oh! if we
   should not see him as he is! Methinks to a son's soul there can be
   nought more harrowing than the thought, that it possibly may happen
   that some of his mother's children shall see God, and he shall not! I
   had a letter just now from a person who thanks God that he read the
   Sermon, "Many shall come from the east and from the west;" and he hopes
   it has brought him to God. He says, I am one out of a large family, and
   all of them love God except myself; I don't know that I should have
   thought of it, but I took up this sermon of yours, and it has brought
   me to a Saviour." Oh! beloved, think of bringing the last out of nine
   to a Saviour! Have not I made a mother's heart leap for joy? But oh! if
   that young man had been lost out of the nine, and had seen his eight
   brothers and sisters in heaven, while he himself was cast out, methinks
   he would have had nine hells--he would be nine times more miserable in
   hell, as he saw each of them, and his mother and his father, too,
   accepted, and himself cast out. It would not have been "we" there with
   the whole family.

   What a pleasant thought it is, that we can assemble to-day, some of us,
   and can put our hands round those we love, and stand, an unbroken
   family--father, mother, sister, brother, and all else who are dear, and
   can say by humble faith, "We shall see him as he is"--all of us, not
   one left out! Oh! my friends, we feel like a family at Park Street. I
   do feel myself, when I am away from you, that there is nothing like
   this place, that there is nothing on earth which can recompense the
   pain of absence from this hallowed spot. Somehow or other, we feel knit
   together by such ties of love! Last Sabbath I went into a place where
   the minister gave us the vilest stuff that ever was brewed. I am sure I
   wished I was back here, that I might preach a little godliness, or else
   hear it. Poor Wesleyan thing! He preached works from beginning to end,
   from that very beautiful text--"They that sow in tears shall reap in
   joy!" telling us that whatever we sowed, that we should reap, without
   ever mentioning salvation for sinners, and pardon required even by
   saints. It was something like this: "Be good men and women, and you
   shall have heaven for it. Whatsoever you sow you are sure to reap; and
   if you are very good people, and do the best you can, you will all go
   to heaven, but if you are very bad and wicked then you will have to go
   to hell; I am sorry to tell you so, but whatever you sow that shall you
   reap." Not a morsel about Jesus Christ, from beginning to end; not a
   scrap. "Well," I thought, "they say I'm rather hard upon these Arminian
   fellows; but if I do not drive my old sword into them worse than ever,
   now I have heard them myself again, then I am not a living man!" I
   thought they might have altered a little, and not preach works so much;
   but I am sure there never was a sermon more full of salvation by works
   preached by the Pope himself, than that was. They do believe in
   salvation by works, whatever they may say, and however they may deny it
   when you come to close quarters with them; for they are so
   everlastingly telling you to be good, and upright, and godly, and never
   directing you first to look to the bleeding wounds of a dying Saviour;
   never telling you about God's free grace, which has brought you out of
   enormous sins; but always talking about that goodness, goodness,
   goodness, which never will be found in the creature.

   Well, beloved, somehow or other, wherever we go, we seem that we must
   come back here.

   "Here our best friends our kindred dwell;

   Here God our Saviour reigns."

   And the thought of losing one of you grieves me almost as much as the
   thought of losing any of my relatives. How often have we looked at one
   another with pleasure! How often have we met together, to sing the same
   old song to the same old tunes! How often have we prayed together! And
   how dearly we all of us love the sound of the word "Grace, grace,
   grace!" And yet there are some of you that I know in my heart, and you
   know yourselves, will not see him, unless you have a change--unless you
   have a new heart and a right spirit. Well, would you like to meet your
   pastor at the day of judgment, and feel that you must be parted from
   him because his warnings were unheeded and his invitation cast to the
   wind. Thinkest thou, young man, that thou wouldst like to meet me at
   the day judgment, there to remember what thou hast heard, and what thou
   hast disregarded? And thinkest thou, that thou wouldst like to stand
   before thy God, and to remember how the way of salvation was preached
   to thee--"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and be baptized, and thou
   shalt be saved,"--and that thou didst disregard the message? That were
   sad indeed. But we leave the thought with you, and lest you should
   think that if you are not worthy you will not see him--if you are not
   good you will not see him--if you do not do such-and-such good things
   you will not see him--let me just tell you, whosoever, though he be the
   greatest sinner under heaven--whosoever, though his life be the most
   filthy and the most corrupt--whosoever believeth in the Lord Jesus
   Christ shall have everlasting life; for God will blot out his sins,
   will give him righteousness through Jesus, accept him in the beloved,
   save him by his mercy, keep him by his grace, and at last present him
   spotless and faultless before his presence with exceeding great joy.

   My dear friends, it is a sweet thought to close with now; that with a
   very large part of you I can say, "We shall see him as he is." For you
   know when we sit down at the Lord's table, we occupy the whole ground
   floor of this chapel, and I believe that half of us are people of God
   here, for I know that many members cannot get to the Lord's table in
   the evening. Brethren, we have one heart, one soul--"One Lord, one
   faith, one baptism." We may be sundered here below a little while; some
   may die before us, as our dear brother Mitchell has died; some may
   cross the stream before the time comes for us; but we shall meet again
   on the other side of the river. "We shall see him as he is."

   (See also the accompanying Exposition of 1 John 3:1-10 that follows.)
     __________________________________________________________________

                           Exposition: 1 John 3:1-10

   "Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we
   should be called the sons of God: therefore the world knoweth us not,
   because it knew him not.

   "Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what
   we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like
   him, for we shall see him as he is."

   As dear Dr. Hawker said concerning this, there is a chapter in every
   word and a sermon in every letter. How it opens with a "Behold!"
   because it is such a striking portion of sacred Scripture, that the
   Holy Ghost would have us pay particular attention to it. "Behold!" says
   he, "read other Scriptures if you like, with a glance, but stop here. I
   have put up a way-mark to tell you there is something eminently worthy
   of attention buried beneath these words." "Behold, what manner of love
   the Father hath bestowed on us." Consider who we were, and who we are
   now; ay, and what we feel ourselves to be even when divine grace is
   powerful in us. And yet, beloved, we are called "the sons of God." It
   is said that when one of the learned heathens was translating this, he
   stopped and said, "No; it cannot be; let it be written Subjects,' not
   Sons,' for it is impossible we should be called the sons of God.' "
   What a high relationship is that of a son to his father! What
   privileges a son has from his father! What liberties a son may take
   with his father! and oh! what obedience the son owes to his father, and
   what love the father feels towards the son! But all that, and more than
   that, we now have through Christ. "Behold!" ye angels! stop, ye
   seraphs! here is a thing more wonderful than heaven with its walls of
   jasper. Behold, universe! open thine eyes, O world. "Behold, what
   manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be
   called the sons of God; therefore the world knoweth us not, because it
   knew him not." Well, we are content to go with him in his humiliation,
   for we are to be exalted with him.

   "Beloved, now are we the sons of God." That is easy to read; but it is
   not so easy to feel. "Now are we the sons of God." How is it with your
   heart this morning? Are you in the lowest depths of sorrow and
   suffering? "Now are you a son of God." Does corruption rise within your
   spirit, and grace seem like a poor spark trampled under foot? "Beloved,
   now are you a son of God." Does your faith almost fail you? and are
   your graces like a candle well nigh blown out by the wind! Fear not,
   beloved; it is not your graces, it is not your frames, it is not your
   feelings, on which you are to live: you must live simply by naked faith
   on Christ. "Beloved, now are we the sons of God." With all these things
   against us, with the foot of the devil on our neck, and the sword in
   his hand ready to slay us--beloved now in the very depths of our
   sorrow, wherever we may be--now, as much in the valley as on the
   mountain, as much in the dungeon as in the palace, as much when broken
   on the wheel of suffering as when exalted on the wings of
   triumph--"beloved, now are we the sons of God." "Ah!" but you say, "see
   how I am arrayed! my graces are not bright; my righteousness does not
   shine with apparent glory." But read the next: "It doth not yet appear
   what we shall be; but we know that when he shall appear, we shall be
   like him." We are not so much like him now, but we have some more
   refining process to undergo, and death itself, that best of all
   friends, is yet to wash us clean. "We know that when he shall appear,
   we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is."

   "And every man that hath this hope in him, purifieth himself, even as
   he is pure.

   "Whosoever committeth sin transgresseth also the law for sin is the
   transgression of the law.

   "And ye know that he was manifested to take away our sins; and in him
   is no sin."

   Believer, read these words in two senses. He was manifested to take
   away thy sins that thou hast committed; and that he accomplished, when
   "the just for the unjust," he sustained the penalties of them. And he
   was manifested to take away the power of thy sins; that is to say, to
   conquer thy reigning lusts, to take away thine evil imaginations, to
   purify thee, and make thee like himself. Well, beloved, what a mercy it
   is that some one was manifested to take away our sins from us! for some
   of us have been striving a long, long while, to conquer our sins, and
   we cannot do it. We thought we had driven them out, but they had
   "chariots of iron," and we could not overcome them; they lived "in the
   hill country," and we could not get near them. As often as we worsted
   them in one battle, they came upon us thick and strong, like an army of
   locusts; when heaps and heaps had been destroyed they seemed as thick
   as ever. Ah! but there is a thought--they shall all be taken away. "Ye
   know that he was manifested to take away our sins;" and so he will. The
   time will come when you and I shall stand without spot or blemish
   before the throne of God: for they are "without fault before the throne
   of God" at this moment, and so shall we be ere long.

   "Whosoever abideth in him sinneth not: whosoever sinneth hath not seen
   him, neither known him."

   This plain, simple verse, has been twisted by some who believe in the
   doctrine of perfection, and they have made it declare that it is
   possible for some to abide in Christ, and therefore not to sin. But you
   will remark that it does not say, that some that abide in Christ do not
   sin; but it says that none who abide in Christ sin. "Whosoever abideth
   in him sinneth not." Therefore this passage is not to be applied to a
   few who attain to what is called by our Arminian friends the fourth
   degree--perfection; but it appertains to all believers; and of every
   soul in Christ it may be said, that he sinneth not. In reading the
   Bible, we read it simply as we would read another book. We ought not to
   read it as a preacher his text, with the intention of making something
   out of every word; but we should read it as we find it written:
   "Whosoever abideth in Christ sinneth not." Now we are sure that cannot
   mean that he does not sin at all, but it means that sins not
   habitually, he sins not designedly, he sins not finally, so as to
   perish. The Bible often calls a man righteous; but that does not mean
   that he is perfectly righteous. It calls a man a sinner, but it does
   not imply that he may not have done some good deeds in his life; it
   means that that is the man's general character. So with the man who
   abides in Christ: his general character is not that he is a sinner, but
   that he is a saint--he sinneth not openly wilfully before men. In his
   own heart, he has much to confess, but his life before his fellow
   creatures is such a one that it can be said of him: "Whosoever abideth
   in him sinneth not; but whosoever sinneth [the sins of this world. in
   which the multitude indulge] hath not seen him, neither known him."

   "Little children, let no man deceive you: he that doeth righteousness
   is righteous, even as he is righteous."

   That is the sign of it. Works are the fruits of grace. "He is
   righteous,"--not in himself; for mark how graces come in here--"He is
   righteous, even as HE is righteous." It will not allow our
   righteousness to be our own, but it brings us to Christ again. "He that
   doeth righteousness is righteous," not according to his own works, but
   "even as HE is righteous." Good works prove that I have perfect
   righteousness in Christ; they do not help the righteousness of Christ,
   nor yet in any way make me righteous. Good works are of no use whatever
   in the matter of justification: they only use they are, is, that they
   are for our comfort, for the benefit of others, and for the glory of
   God. "He that doeth righteousness is righteous, even as he is
   righteous. He that committeth sin is of the devil."

   "He that committeth sin is of the devil; for the devil sinneth from the
   beginning. For this purpose the Son of God was manifested, that he
   might destroy the works of the devil.

   "Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin; for his seed remaineth
   in him: and he cannot sin, because he is born of God.

   "In this the children of God are manifest, and the children of the
   devil; whosoever doeth not righteousness is not of God, neither he that
   loveth not his brother."

   It were well if we always remembered that practical godliness is the
   soul of godliness; that it is not talking religion, but walking
   religion which proves a man to be sincere; it is not having a religious
   tongue, but a religious heart; it is not a religious mouth, but a
   religious foot. The best evidence is the salvation of the soul. Avaunt!
   talkative; go thy way, thou mere professing formalist! Your ways lead
   down to hell, and your end shall be destruction; for "He that doeth
   righteousness is righteous, even as he is righteous. He that committeth
   sin is of the devil; for the devil sinneth from the beginning. For this
   purpose the Son of God was manifested, that he mighty destroy the works
   of the devil."
     __________________________________________________________________

                       Marvellous Increase of the Church

   A Sermon

   (No. 63)

   Delivered on Sabbath Morning, January 27, 1856, by the

   REV. C.H. SPURGEON

   At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

   "Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to their
   windows?"--Isaiah 60:8.

   TThe ancient church, in the foresight of her mighty increase in these
   latter days lifts up her hands in astonishment, and having been so used
   to see the Lord's grace confined to a small nation, she exclaims in
   amazement, "Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to
   their windows?" We, beloved, are in a somewhat similar position. It has
   pleased our Father to add to our numbers so greatly beyond all
   precedent in modern times, that I doubt not that many of our aged
   members, who remember days of yore, when God was pleased to bless them
   very greatly, and then think of days of sadness and weariness, when
   they were diminished and brought low, are this morning lifting up their
   hands, and saying, as they think of the present prosperity of our
   church, "Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to their
   windows?" I am sure whenever I appoint an evening for seeing the
   converts I am amazed; I can only stand up afterwards, clap my hands,
   and go home and weep for very joy, to think that the word of our God is
   so running and multiplying and abundantly increasing; and as post after
   post I receive letters from different parts of this country, from one
   person here, and another there, not in England only, but in Scotland,
   and even across the sea--in Ireland, and you know, in the Crimea
   also--I have been overwhelmed with amazement, and have been obliged to
   cry out, "Who hath begotten me these?" "Who are these that fly as a
   cloud, and as the doves to their windows?"

   The church, when she uttered these words, appears to have been the
   subject of three kinds of feeling. First, wonder: secondly, pleasure:
   thirdly, anxiety. These three feelings you have felt; you are not
   strangers to them; and you will understand, while I speak to you as the
   children of God, how it is that we can feel at the same time, wonder,
   pleasure, and yet anxiety.

   I. First, the church of old, and our church now, appears to have been
   the subject of WONDER when she saw so many come to know the Lord. "Who
   are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to their windows?" Take
   the first sentence of the text first: "Who are these that fly as a
   cloud?"

   The church wondered, first of all, at the number of her converts. They
   did "fly as a cloud." Not here and there a convert--not now and then
   one--not converts like solitary bitterns of the desert; but they "did
   fly as a cloud." Not a convert now and then, like a meteor, a thing we
   see but seldom, which flashes across the sky, rejoices the darkness,
   and then is gone; not now and then a convert, as a rara avis,--a
   spiritual prodigy. "But who are these?" saith she, "who fly as a
   cloud?" She wonders at their number. But, my brethren, why should we be
   astonished? Did not the apostle Peter become the instrument of
   converting three thousand under one sermon? And have we not heard of
   Whitfield, that while ten thousand listened to him, it has been known
   that two thousand at a time have felt the power of God manifested in
   their hearts? And why should we wonder if hundreds were brought to God
   now? "Is his arm shortened, that he cannot save? Is his ear heavy, that
   he cannot hear?" Have we not cried unto the God of Jacob; and is
   anything impossible to him? Remember how he "cut Rahab and wounded the
   dragon." Think of his prodigies by the Red Sea, and the miracles he
   worked in the field of Zoan. "Is anything too hard for the Lord?" Oh!
   thou distrustful church, dost thou marvel because thy Lord giveth thee
   many children? Is it not written--"More are the children of the
   desolate than the children of the married wife," saith the Lord. I tell
   thee, the Lord will show thee greater things than these. The increase
   we have had shall yet be exceeded, if God wills it. Nothing is
   impossible with him. He who converts one, could as easily convert a
   hundred; and he who redeems a hundred, could save a thousand by the
   self-same power. Is not the blood of Jesus sufficient? Is not the Holy
   Ghost powerful enough? and is not the mighty Three-one God "able to do
   for us exceeding abundantly above what we can ask or think?" Yet, so it
   is; so little are our expectations, and so unprepared are we for God's
   mercies, that when he pours out a blessing upon us, so that we have not
   room enough to receive it, we begin shutting up the windows altogether,
   and think, "Surely it cannot come from God, because there is so much of
   it." Why, that is the very reason why we should believe it to be. If
   there were few conversions, then we might tremble, and fear lest they
   might be man's; but when there are so many none but a God can
   accomplish it. When one or two are brought to join a church, we may
   shake for fear and examine them with caution; but when they fly like a
   cloud, we can only say, "Great art thou, O God, marvellous are thy
   works, and that my soul knoweth right well." Doubtless, brethren, until
   larger views of God's power and increased faith shall diminish the
   wonder, we shall always stand in amazement, and say, "Who are these
   that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to their windows?"

   But, secondly, the Chaldee has the idea in it, not of numbers, but of
   swiftness. "Who are these that fly as a cloud," for swiftness? Ye have
   seen clouds dashing along, like chariots drawn by mighty horses, or
   flying like a fugitive army, when the swift winds have pursued them,
   and ye have said, "See how swiftly the clouds career along the sky;"
   and it is notable, that in great revivals of religion, persons are
   generally more swift in their religious growth and experience than they
   are in dull and degenerate times. "Why," says one, "how soon persons
   join the church here! how very soon they attain to assurance of faith!
   how very speedily they come to understand gospel doctrines. It was not
   so in my days; for I know I was months and months, and tried a long
   while, before I dared think of obeying my Master--before I could say, I
   know whom I have believed.'" Just so; but these are brighter days than
   your days, and you are wondering now because the converts fly so
   swiftly. But that is just the idea of the text: "Who are these that fly
   as swiftly as a cloud?" I know, brethren, it used to be the custom with
   our churches, when a convert came to keep him a summer and a winter--to
   summer him and to winter him. Now, that is very prudent and very wise;
   but it is not at all scriptural: there is nothing in the word of God to
   support it. The example of Jesus and his apostles is altogether against
   it; and I take it that scripture is to go before prudence, and that his
   example is always to be above man's wisdom. Why should the people of
   God tarry in these days? Let them haste, and delay not to keep his
   commandments; and what if young people do grow in grace faster now than
   they did in your time? Perhaps God has now poured out a larger measure
   of his Spirit. He has placed us in brighter days; and plants in the
   warm sunshine must expect to grow faster than those that dwell in the
   frost. We know that in the short summers of Sweden, a harvest will
   ripen in two or three months, or less than that. Why should we complain
   of the corn of Sweden, because it ripens so swiftly, when it is just as
   good as ours that takes several months to ripen? The Lord does as he
   wills and as he pleases; and if some fly swiftly, whilst others travel
   slowly, let those who go slowly bless God that they go at all, but let
   them not murmur that others go a little faster. Nevertheless, it will
   always be to God's church a source of wonder: "Who are these that fly
   so swiftly like a cloud?"

   The Targum has another idea, that of publicity. "Who are these that fly
   as a cloud?" The cloud, you know, flies so that everybody can see it.
   So do these converts fly openly before the world. It is a matter of
   admiration with this church and with God's church whenever it is
   increased, that the converts become so bold and fly so publicly. In the
   first days of the church, Nicodemus, the ruler of the Jews, came to
   Jesus by night; he was somewhat ashamed, lest he should be put out of
   the synagogue. Joseph of Arimathea, the rich man, was afraid to profess
   his Lord, and therefore loved Jesus "secretly, for fear of the Jews."
   But you do not read that any of them were afraid, when God poured out
   the Holy Ghost on the day that Peter preached; but "they broke their
   bread from house to house, and did eat it in singleness of heart,
   praising God." They went up to the beautiful gate of the temple, and in
   the very teeth of all the people, Peter and John healed the lame man.
   They worked their miracles openly before all men. They were not
   ashamed. So, when there is a glorious ingathering of souls, you will
   always notice how bold the people become. Why, there never were such a
   brazen-faced set of people as those who assemble here. They are not
   ashamed of their religion. Why, I have seen persons come to the pool of
   baptism, fearing, shaking, and trembling: but I have not found it so
   with the majority of those who have been baptized in this place. They
   seem proud to own their Master. They can sing,--

   "Ashamed of Jesus? Sooner far

   Let evening blush to own a star!

   Ashamed of Jesus? Just as soon

   Let midnight be ashamed of noon!"

   You "are not ashamed of the gospel of Christ," for it has been here the
   power of God unto salvation to many who have believed. I have rejoiced
   to see the boldness of the young converts; I have heard of them
   fighting with the antagonists of the truth. I have seen them boldly
   standing up for their Master, in the face of scorns and jeers, and
   slanders; and the church says, with regard to them, "Who are these that
   fly publicly as a cloud?"

   But methinks there is another idea here, which Dr. Gill gives us in his
   very valuable commentary. "Who are these that fly as a cloud," for
   unanimity? You will mark, not as clouds, but "as a cloud;" not as two
   or three bodies, but as one united and compact mass! Here is the secret
   of strength. Split us into fractions, and we are conquered; unite us
   into a steady phalanx, and we become invincible; knit us together as
   one man, and Satan himself can never rend us asunder. Divide us into
   threads, let our warp and woof be disunited, and we become like rotten
   tow, that burneth before a single spark of the fire of the enemy. But,
   thanks be to God, we are "as the heart of one man." I could not but
   wonder at our Church Meeting on Wednesday, how all seemed to fly as a
   cloud. No sooner was a thing proposed, than the whole church seemed
   without a dissentient opinion to be carried along irresistibly by one
   thought that possessed its bosom. It is very seldom you see a church
   really united; but God has united us; we have "one Lord, one faith, one
   baptism." But yet the church wonders at it; she can scarcely understand
   it. "Who are these," she says, "who fly as one compact and solid
   cloud?" God grant that we may always continue so! Whatever is said of
   one of us, let it be said of all of us. Do not let us be stragglers.
   Those who fall into the rear of an army are always in danger; and those
   who hang about its flanks are equally subject to insult and injury. Let
   us march breast to breast, shoulder to shoulder, each of us drawing the
   sword at one word; every one doing as the captain tells us; and as
   surely as truth prevaileth, unity shall conquer, and our king shall
   honor us and bless us still, treading our foes beneath our feet, and
   making us more than conquerors through him that hath loved us.

   Again: there is the idea of power. Who is he that shall bridle a cloud,
   or stop it in its march? What man is he who by a word can stay the
   careering clouds, and make them still? Who is he that can bid them,
   when they are driving northward, turn their course to the south? Who is
   he that can rein the coursers of the wind, and forbid them to drag the
   chariots of darkness along to the west? The clouds yield to none; no
   majesty can control them; they laugh to scorn the sceptre of the
   prince, and they move on, despite the rattling of the sabres of armies.
   None can stop the clouds; they are invincible, uncontrollable; and in
   their majesty they move themselves right royally, like the kings of
   heaven. And who is he that can stop the converts of Zion? Who is he
   that can keep back the children of Jerusalem; when the Lord shall
   "bring again the captivity of his people," who is he that shall stop
   them? When his people of old were in Babylon, could "the two-leaved
   gates" bar them in? Could Cyrus, with all his armies, have kept them
   prisoners? Nay, the two-leaved gates open, the bars of brass give way;
   and Cyrus himself sends them back to their country, with gold and
   silver to build their temple. And when in latter days the Jews shall
   return to their own land again, to worship God, who shall stop them?
   Shall the might of Russia? Shall the power of Egypt? Shall the tyranny
   of Turkey? Shall aught keep them back? No; the city shall be builded
   again upon her own heap, and the tribes of the Lord shall yet go up
   again, to worship God where their forefathers bowed before them. O,
   people of God! it is so with you. "Who are these that fly as a cloud!"
   Try, try, O enemy, to stop one of the Lord's doves, when he is coming
   to the windows! You cannot do it. Did not the devil try to stop you, O
   brother, when you were coming to God? Ah! he did; but it was all in
   vain. And when you went to join the church, how many difficulties there
   were in the way! But when you are called to God you will not be afraid,
   you will fly like a cloud. Ah! the world says we shall stop by-and-by;
   that all our success is as nothing; that it will soon die away; that it
   is a mere excitement, and will soon end. Ah! let them talk so, if they
   please. We are flying like a cloud. We have God within us; we have good
   within us; we have the might of the Deity within our church; and who is
   he that shall stop us? We bid the mighty men of this earth come; we bid
   carnal reason array itself against us; we bid the wisdom of the critic
   try to stop us. But they cannot do it. The weakness of God is mightier
   than man; and he who took us from the sheep-folds to lead his people
   Israel will not desert his David; he who has put us before his people
   will not cast us away, nor will he leave his church, nor forsake his
   chosen ones. "Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the doves to
   their windows?"

   Thus have I tried to picture to you the amazement of Christ's Church.
   "Who are these that fly as a cloud?" And, now, Church of God, one word
   with thee, ere I leave thee. Your success is amazing one way; but it is
   not amazing if you look at it in another direction. It is amazing that
   any man should be saved, if you look at man; it is not amazing if you
   consider God. It is amazing that the wilderness should blossom as the
   rose, if you look at the wilderness; but it is not amazing, if you
   consider Jehovah. It is wonderful that a desert should have the
   excellency of Carmel and Sharon: but, wonder all dies away, when you
   recollect that God who doeth as he wills in the armies of heaven doeth
   as he pleases in this lower world. O, Church of God! give the honor and
   the glory to thy God, and to thy God only. Write his name upon thy
   banners; let thy sacrifice smoke before him, and before the shields of
   the mighty. "I am, and there is none else besides me." Bow before him;
   lest, if you give praise to the creature, and if you think we have done
   anything, and say, "Behold this great Babylon that I have builded," God
   would say, "Because thou hast exalted thyself like the cedars of
   Lebanon, therefore will I bring thee down to the earth, and thy glory
   shall be taken from thee." May the Lord in his mercy keep us from
   pride, and also keep us living on him, believing in his might, and
   trusting in his power!

   II. This brings us to the second portion of our discourse, which is the
   PLEASURE OF THE CHURCH. "Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the
   doves to their windows?"

   First, the church is exceedingly pleased at the character of those who
   come to her, "doves." We should always thank God, when those who join
   the church are of the right sort; for alas! there is such a thing as
   having a large addition to the church of men that are of no use
   whatever. Many an army has swelled its ranks with recruits, who have in
   no way whatever contributed to its might; and it has been known in many
   great revivals, that large hosts have been gathered in, who have
   forsaken the truth in six months. I know a church which excommunicated
   eighty members in twelve months, for disorderly conduct and forsaking
   the truth; and they had taken on a hundred or so the year before, from
   some great spasm, which had been occasioned by one of those spurious
   revivalists, who came about making a great noise, and doing no good
   whatever, but scorching and burning up the ground, where other men
   might have sown the good seed of the kingdom. I wonder that any man
   should be so self-conceited as to call himself a revivalist, or profess
   to be a revival-maker: let this be known, as my opinion, he is a
   nuisance and nothing better. But where a church is cautious, where the
   minister exercises scrutiny, and all possible means are taken to see
   into character, it gives us great pleasure that they are of the right
   sort. Ah! beloved, you should be at our church meetings sometimes, and
   hear the sweet words of experience which are uttered there. I am sure
   you would say, that they, "fly as the doves to their windows." Now and
   then there comes before me an old croaking raven, that wants to come
   in; but we are soon able to tell the raven from the dove. It may be,
   that now and then a raven gets into our church; but I do hope that the
   majority are doves. We have seen them so humble, so meek, trusting
   alone in Jesus, like timid doves, half afraid to speak and tell you,
   and yet so loving, that they seemed as if they had sat on the finger of
   Jesus, and picked their food from between his lips; we have marked
   their conduct afterwards, and seen it to be holy and consistent. We
   will glory before the world, that notwithstanding the numbers that have
   been added to us, we have had to cut off as few as any church in the
   world--but one in a year, out of our vast body! and that one was
   received from another church, and therefore had never been examined
   thoroughly. O my brethren, always try to give the church pleasure by
   your dove-like conversation. "Be wise as serpents, but harmless as
   doves." Such was your Master's teaching. Let your character be--

   "Humble, teachable, and mild,

   Changed into a little child;

   Pleased with all the Lord provides,

   Weaned from all the world besides."

   "Set your affections on things above, and not on things on the earth."
   Be not like the unclean bird, that will devour all kinds of filth; but
   be like the dove, that liveth on the "good corn of the kingdom." And be
   ye sure that you are like them, loving and kind one to another; and,
   like them, always mourn when you lose your mate; weep when your Jesus
   is gone from you, and you lose his delightful presence. Be ye like the
   dove in all these things.

   Again: the church feels pleasure, not only in their character, but in
   their condition. Like doves "that fly." Lowth translates this portion
   of the verse "like doves on the wing." The church feels pleasure in
   thinking that her converts are "like doves on the wing." Do you never,
   beloved, get into such a condition, that you are not like a dove on the
   wing, but like a dove in a secret place, in the cleft of the rock,
   hiding yourself in darkness, because you are afraid to be seen? For my
   own part, I am often not like a dove on the wing, but like a dove
   hiding its head under its wing, afraid to fly. But "he reneweth our
   strength like the eagle's." There is a moulting time for the Lord's
   doves; but their feathers grow again, and then they have the wings of
   the dove, covered with silver, and their feathers with yellow gold; and
   they can fly upwards towards Jesus. And will not our church rejoice,
   when her converts appear to be all on the wing, not doubting, fearful
   converts, not converts that stand timidly, afraid to come; but converts
   on the wing, flying upwards towards Jesus, prayerful, laborious,
   active; not sitting still, doing nothing, but labouring and flying
   upwards towards Jesus. These are the converts we want. And the church
   is pleased when she can say, "Who are these that are like doves on the
   wing?"

   Furthermore; the translation of the Septuagint gives us another idea.
   "Who are these that fly like doves with their young?" The church
   rejoices at the company that the converts bring with them. How charming
   is the sight when a father unites himself with the people of God, and
   then his children after him! We had an instance a little while ago
   here, of two sons followed by their mother, and we have had many
   instances of a mother following her daughters, and of daughters
   following their mothers, and sons following their fathers. Oh! how
   blessed it is, to see the doves come with their young! If there is
   anything more beautiful than a dove, it is the little dove that flieth
   by its side. Beloved, do you not rejoice, some of you, that you have
   your children in the church? that you can run your eye along the pew,
   where your offspring are sitting with you, and can say, "Ah! glory be
   to God, it is not only I that have received his mercy, but here are my
   sons, too; and there sits my daughter drinking from the same well as I
   draw from; living on the same spiritual manna, looking to the same
   cross for salvation, and hoping for the same heaven! But I notice some
   families here--I could point them out if I would: I notice them with
   sadness; where there is a father and a mother, both of them heirs of
   heaven, but of whose sons we have no evidence and no hope that they are
   the children of God. And there are some of you, my friends, whose young
   ones have come before you. We have daughters here that have prayerless
   mothers; we have sons that have ungodly fathers. Oh! does it not seem
   hard that the children should be in the kingdom before the parents? For
   if it be hard that a parent should see his children perishing, surely
   there is tenfold horror in the thought of children saved, and parents
   going to hell; your offspring entering into the joy of their Lord, and
   ye yourselves cast "into outer darkness, where there is weeping, and
   wailing, and gnashing of teeth." Daughter of Zion! plead for your
   children. Men of Jerusalem! plead for your children.

   The church, again, feels pleasure at the direction in which these doves
   move. "Who are these that fly as the doves to their windows?" Where
   should the dove fly to else but to its dovecot? The word means the
   dovecot, where the doves live, the little pigeon holes, into which the
   doves enter and dwell. The joy of the church is, that the poor sinner
   does not fly to man, nor to the law, but flies to Christ, the dovecot!
   I can recollect when, like a poor dove, sent out by Noah from his hand,
   I flew over the wide expanse of waters, and hoped to find some place
   where I might rest my wearied wing. Up towards the north I flew; and my
   eye looked keenly through the mist and darkness, if perhaps it might
   find some floating substance, on which my soul might rest its foot, but
   it found nothing. Again it turned its wing, and flapped it, but not so
   rapidly as before, across that deep water that knew no shore; but still
   there was no rest. The raven had found his resting-place upon a
   floating body, and was feeding itself upon the carrion of some drowned
   man's carcass; but my poor soul found none. I went on: thought I saw a
   ship floating out at sea; it was the ship of the law; and I thought I
   would put my feet on its canvass, or rest myself on its cordage for a
   time, and find some refuge. But ah! it was an airy phantom, on which I
   could not rest; for my foot had no right to rest on the law, I had not
   kept it, and the soul that keepeth it not must die. At last I saw the
   barque Christ Jesus--that happy ark; and I thought I would fly thither;
   but my poor wing was weary, and I could fly no further, and down I sank
   into the water, but as providence would have it, when my wings were
   flagging, and I dropped into the stream to be drowned, just below me
   was the roof of the ark, and I saw a hand put out from it, that took
   me, and said, "I have loved thee with an everlasting love, therefore I
   have not delivered the soul of my turtle dove into the company of the
   wicked; come in, come in!" and then I found I had an olive branch in my
   mouth of peace with God and peace with man, plucked off with Jesus'
   power. Poor soul! hast thou found a resting-place in the ark? hast thou
   fled to thy window? or art thou, O Ephraim, like the silly dove that
   hath no heart, that goeth down to Egypt, and resteth itself in Assyria?
   Oh, say thou, why is it that thou are looking for rest, where none can
   be found? There be many that say, "Who will show us any good? Lord,
   lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon me!" That is the dove's
   resting-place; that is his house. Have you found your home in Christ?
   If you have not, when the storm comes, O dove, with ruffled plumage
   thou shalt be driven before the swift tempest; thou shalt be blown
   along like a small feather before the stream, onward, onward, through
   the dark unknown until thou findest thyself with burned and singed
   wings, falling into flames that have no bottom. The Lord give you
   deliverance, and help you to fly to Jesus.

   III. Now we come to our third point--the CHURCH's ANXIETY. "Ah!" says
   the church, "it is all very well their flying like a cloud; it is all
   right their going as doves to their windows; but who are they?" The
   church is anxious, and she anxiously desires to be sure that it is all
   gold that is put into her treasury; for she suspects that some of those
   lumps of bullion cannot be gold. She thinks, "surely that is not all
   genuine metal, or there would not be so much of it;" and she says, "Who
   are they?" That is the question! Now I address myself to an anxious
   church to answer it.

   First, they are those that fly. Our text says, "Who are these that
   fly?" They are those who fly because they cannot stop where they were,
   and they are flying somewhere else for refuge. We trust that those who
   have joined our church are those who are persuaded that the land
   wherein they dwelt is to be consumed with fire, who feel a necessity to
   come out of the place where they once lived, and have a strong desire
   to seek "a city that has foundations, whose builder and maker is God."
   We hope, beloved, that those who have joined with us here are those who
   are escaping from hell and flying to heaven; such as once had no sins
   that they cared for, but now come out because they needs must come, for
   their house has got too hot for them, and they cannot abide any longer
   in their sins. Here we have the idea of conviction. They are those that
   fly. They are not content now to make their nest of their own good
   works, with here and there a little bit of down picked off
   Morality-common, and here apiece of yarn that they have picked up in
   Legality palace, and here a piece of good work that they have found in
   the barn-yard of Ceremonialism. No; they are poor souls that have no
   rest anywhere, but a re flying, and flying with rapid wing, until they
   can get to their windows. Are you such, my beloved, that have joined
   the church? or are you not? If you are not, you have deceived me, and
   you have deceived the church, for we thought you were; we want to have
   none united with us but those who are flying to us. We want no
   self-righteous ones; no self-sufficient ones, no good moral people; we
   want those who feel that they are ragged sinners, clothed by Jesus;
   poor dead sinners, made alive by Jesus. I ask God, when I ask him to
   give me any, to give me those who are flying with haste for a Saviour;
   and if any of you that have come to us making a profession of flying
   are not such, I beseech you by everything that is solemn, by that hell
   of hypocrites, which is the hell of hells, and by the heaven you would
   lose, to bethink yourselves how sinfully you are acting, in continuing
   members of a Christian church when you are hypocrites and have never
   fled.

   But again: they are those who fly not on the ground, but like a cloud,
   up high. We know many a church, to which the people come, because there
   is so much charity connected with it. I know some country churches in
   the Establishment which are attended by some people, because there are
   regularly given away so many sixpences after the service. That is
   flying like a will-o'-the-wisp, dancing about in dark marshy places. If
   I could buy all London for my congregation by the turn of a threepenny
   piece, I would not give it. If people do not come from some better
   motives, we do not wish to have any. But we have none of that sort, we
   trust. They fly higher than these groundlings. Zion rejoiced that they
   did not fly on the ground, but flew like a cloud. They were persons
   that did not care about the world, but wanted heaven.

   They were souls filled with rain, like the clouds; or if they were not
   big and black with rain, as the clouds sometimes are when they are
   about to burst, yet they had a little grace in them, a little moisture,
   a little dew.

   And they were persons driven by the wind, just as the clouds are--who
   do not move of themselves, but go because they must go--who have no
   power of themselves to move, but have something driving them behind.
   Brethren, we hope that the converts of this church have been driven to
   us by the power of the Holy Ghost, and could not help coming, and they
   have been men filled with rain, which they will drop out upon us in
   copious showers, if God pleases. They have been like the clouds, which
   tarry not for man, neither wait for the sons of men. They are come with
   us now: and we hope to see the clouds go up higher and higher, into the
   air, until those clouds shall one by one, be swallowed up in Jesus,
   shall be lost in the one assembly of the First-born Church of the Holy
   Ghost. These are the persons who "fly as a cloud."

   We give thee yet another answer, O thou timid church. Those who come to
   join themselves with thee are persons who have been regenerated; for
   they are doves. They were not doves by nature; they were ravens; but
   they are doves now. They are changed from ravens into doves, from lions
   into lambs. Beloved, it is very easy for you to pretend to be the
   children of God; but it is not easy for you to be so. The old fable of
   the jackdaw dressed up in peacock's feathers often takes place now.
   Many a time have we seen coming to our church, a fine strutting fellow,
   with long feathers of prayer behind him. He could pray gloriously; and
   he has come strutting in, with all his majesty and pride, and said,
   "Surely I must come; I have everything about me; am I not rich and
   polite? have I not learning and talent?" In a very little while we have
   found him to be nothing but an old prattling jackdaw, having none of
   the true feathers belonging to him; by some accident one of his
   borrowed feathers have dropped out, and we have found him to be a
   hypocrite. I beseech you, do not be hypocrites. The glory of the gospel
   is not that it paints ravens white, and whitewashes blackbirds, but
   that it turns them into doves. it is the glory of our religion not that
   it makes a man seem what he is not, but that it makes him something
   else. It takes the raven and turns him into a dove; his ravenish heart
   becomes a dove's heart. It is not the feathers that are changed, but
   the man himself. Glorious Gospel, which takes a lion, and doth not cut
   the lion's mane off, and then cover him with a sheep's skin, but makes
   him into a lamb! O church of God! these that have come like doves to
   their windows are trophies of regenerating grace, which has transformed
   them, and made them as new creatures in Christ Jesus.

   The last answer I shall give respecting those who have come to join
   themselves with us is, that they are those, we hope, who have fled to
   their windows, and found a refuge in Christ my Lord. There is nothing
   we want to know of a person coming before the church, except this. Dost
   thou believe on the Lord Jesus Christ? Hast thou had pardon from his
   hands? Hast thou had union with his person? Dost thou hold communion
   with him day by day? Is he thy hope, thy stay, thy refuge, thy trust?
   If so, then thou mayest come in. If thou art one living in the dovecot
   we will not drive thee away; if thou hast fled like a dove to thy
   window, we are glad to have thee. But there is the anxious
   question--Have you fled to Christ? Beloved, there are some who think
   they have fled to Christ that have not; and there are some who think
   they have not fled to Christ that have. There are some of you who think
   yourselves safe for heaven, that are nothing but whitewashed
   sepulchres, like the Pharisees of old. It is a horrible thought, that
   there are some, we fear, who lay their head upon their death pillow, as
   they think, in sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection, but
   will in hell lift up their eyes, being in torment. A dove, you know,
   can find good shelter for itself in other places beside a dovecot;
   there may be some little hole in the barn, and in there the dove gets
   and builds its nest, and is very happy and comfortable. Ah! dove, but
   there is no place that will protect you that is not a dovecot; and
   there is only one dovecot. You have built a nice snug nest perhaps in
   some of your trees; you are building your hope in some one of your
   merits; you are putting your trust in some of your own works. It is all
   in vain. There is only one dovecot. "Other foundation can no man lay
   than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ and him crucified." There is
   only one hope for a poor sinner from the justice of Jehovah; and that
   is in the "Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief," who "gave his
   back to the smiters, and his cheeks to them that plucked off the hair."
   Do you know how that dovecot was made for you? Do you know how it is
   lined for you, and how large the door is? It was made by Jesus, the
   carpenter's son; it is lined with the blood of his own heart; and the
   door is so wide that the biggest sinner can get in, but he who has any
   righteousness will find that the door is not large enough to let him
   carry his righteousness with him. Poor soul! hast thou a dovecot? and
   art thou living in it? If so, we rejoice with thee, and glad enough
   should we be to have thee united with our church; for we love all those
   who love the Lord Jesus Christ. Yet, lest thou shouldst not understand
   our holy religion, one moment shall suffice, and thou shalt go. Dost
   thou not know that the law which God made on Sinai has been broken by
   us all, and that God, the "jealous God," will "by no means spare the
   guilty?" And dost thou not know, O sinner, that thou must offer
   something to God, to make up a recompense for what thou hast done? Dost
   thou not know, that God is so angry with the man who sins, that he will
   damn that man, unless there is some one who will be damned for him, and
   suffer the punishment in his stead? And dost thou not know, that our
   religion is a religion of substitution--that Jesus Christ the Son of
   God became man; that he might take the punishment we ought to have had;
   that he bore the wrath we ought to have borne; that he took the guilt
   we committed, just as the scape-goat of old did, and carried it right
   away into the wilderness of forgetfulness; so that now a sinner who is
   putting his trust in that substitution can escape punishment. God's
   justice cannot demand payment twice--

   "First at my bleeding Surety's hands,

   And then again at mine."

   Precious Jesus! what a substitute thou wast for guilt? Sweet Lord
   Jesus! I kiss thy wounds this day; thou Man! thou God! thou who didst
   wrestle with Jacob! thou who didst walk with Abraham, the man of God,
   of Mamre! thou who stoodst in the fiery furnace with Shadrach, Meshach,
   and Abednego! Thou Son of God, thou Son of Man, who didst appear to
   Joshua with thy sword drawn! I worship thee, my substitute, my hope!
   Oh! that others might do so too, and that the whole of this vast
   multitude might, with one heart, accept him as their Saviour!
     __________________________________________________________________

                              The Enchanted Ground

   A Sermon

   (No. 64)

   Delivered on Sabbath Morning, February 3, 1856, by the

   REV. C.H. SPURGEON

   At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

   "Therefore let us not sleep, as do others: but let us watch and be
   sober."--1 Thess. 5:6

   As the spiritual guide of the flock of God along the intricate mazes of
   experience, it is the duty of the gospel minister to point out every
   turning of the road to heaven, to speak concerning its dangers or its
   privileges, and to warn any whom he may suspect to be in a position
   peculiarly perilous. Now, there is a portion of the road which leadeth
   from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City, which has in it,
   perhaps, more dangers than any other portion of the way. It doth not
   abound with lions; there are no dragons in it; it hath no dark woods,
   and no deep pitfalls; yet more seeming pilgrims have been destroyed in
   that portion of the road than anywhere else, and not even Doubting
   Castle, with all its host of bones, can show so many who have been
   slain there. It is the part of the road called the Enchanted Ground.
   The great geographer, John Bunyan, well pictured it when he said:

   "I then saw in my dream that they went on till they came into a certain
   country, whose air naturally tended to make one drowsy, if he came a
   stranger into it. And here Hopeful began to be very dull, and heavy of
   sleep; wherefore he said unto Christian, I do now begin to grow so
   drowsy that I can scarcely hold up mine eyes; let us lie down here, and
   take one nap.

   Christian: "By no means, said the other, lest sleeping we never awake
   more."

   Hopeful: "Why, my brother? Sleep is sweet to the laboring man; we may
   be refreshed if we take a nap."

   Christian: "Do you not remember that one of the shepherds bid us beware
   of the Enchanted Ground? He meant by that, that we should beware of
   sleeping; wherefore, let us not sleep as others do, but let us watch
   and be sober.'"

   There are no doubt, many of us, beloved, who are passing over this
   plain; and I fear that this is the condition of the majority of
   churches in the present day. They are lying down on the settles of
   Lukewarmness, in the Arbors of the Enchanted Ground. There is not that
   activity and zeal we could wish to see among them; they are not,
   perhaps, notably heterodox; they may not be invaded by the lion of
   persecution, but they are somewhat worse than that,--they are lying
   down to slumber, like Heedless and Too-Bold in the Arbor of Sloth. May
   God grant that his servants may be the means of arousing the church
   from its lethargy, and stirring it up from its slumbers, lest haply
   professors should sleep the sleep of death.

   This morning I intend to show you what is meant by the state of sleep
   into which Christians sometimes fall; secondly, I shall use some
   considerations, if possible, to wake up such as are slumbering;
   thirdly, I shall mark sundry times when the Christian is most liable to
   fall asleep; and shall conclude by giving you some advice as to the
   mode in which you should conduct yourselves when you are passing over
   the Enchanted Ground, and feel drowsiness weighing down your eyelids.

   I. First, what is that state of sleep into which the Christian man may
   fall? It is not death. He was dead once, but he is now alive in Christ
   Jesus; and therefore shall never die; but though a living man shall
   never die, being quickened by an immortal life, yet that living man may
   sleep; and that sleep is so nearly akin to death that I have known
   slumbering Christians mistaken for dead, carnal sinners. Come, beloved,
   let me picture to you the state of the Christian while he is in a
   condition of sleep.

   First, sleep is a state of insensibility; and such is that state which
   too often falls upon even the best children of God. When a man is
   asleep he is insensible. The world goes on, and he knows naught about
   it. The watchman calls beneath his window, and he sleeps on still. A
   fire is in a neighboring street, his neighbor's house is burned to
   ashes, but he is asleep, and knows it not. Persons are sick in the
   house, but he is not awakened; they may die, and he weeps not for them.
   A revolution may be raging in the streets of his city; a king may be
   losing his crown; but he that is asleep shares not in the turmoil of
   politics. A volcano may burst somewhere near him, and he may be in
   imminent peril; but he escapeth not; he is sound asleep, he is
   insensible. The winds are howling, the thunders are rolling across the
   sky, and the lightnings flash at his window; but he that can sleep on
   careth not for these, and is insensible to them all. The sweetest music
   is passing through the street; but he sleeps, and only in dreams doth
   he hear the sweetness. The most terrific wailings may assail his ears;
   but sleep has sealed them with the wax of slumber, and he hears not.
   Let the world break in sunder, and the elements go to ruin, keep him
   asleep, and he will not perceive it. Christian, behold your condition.
   Have you not sometimes been brought into a condition of insensibility?
   You wished you could feel; but all you felt was pain because you could
   not feel. You wished you could pray. It was not that you felt
   prayerless, but it was because you did not feel at all. You sighed
   once; you would give a world if you could sigh now. You used to groan
   once; a groan now would be worth a golden star if you could buy it. As
   for songs, you can sing them, but then your heart does not go with
   them. You go to the house of God; but when "the multitude that keep
   holy day" in the full tide of song send their music up to heaven, you
   hear it, but your heart does not leap at the sound. Prayer goeth
   solemnly like the evening sacrifice up to God's throne; once you could
   pray, too; but now, while your body is in the house of God, your heart
   is not there. You feel you have brought the chrysalis of your being;
   but the fly is gone away from it; it is a dead, lifeless case. You have
   become like a formalist; you feel that there is not savor, that
   unction, in the preaching that there used to be. There is no difference
   in your minister, you know; the change is in yourself. The hymns and
   the prayers are just the same, but you have fallen into a state of
   slumber. Once, if you thought of a man's being damned, you would weep
   your very soul out in tears; but now you could sit at the very brink of
   hell, and hear its wailings unmoved. Once the thought of restoring a
   sinner from the error of his ways would have made you start from your
   bed at midnight, and you would have rushed through the cold air to help
   rescue a sinner from his sins. Now, talk to you about perishing
   multitudes, and you hear it as an old, old tale. Tell you of thousands
   swept by the mighty flood of sin onwards to the precipice of
   destruction, you express your regret, you give your contribution, but
   your heart goeth not with it. You must confess that you are
   insensible.--not entirely, but too much so. You want to be awake: but
   you groan because you feel yourselves to be in this state of slumber.

   Then, again, he that sleepeth is subject to divers illusions. When we
   sleep, judgment goeth from us, and fancy holdeth carnival within our
   brain. When we sleep, dreams arise and fashion in our head strange
   things. Sometimes we are tossed on the stormy deep, and anon we revel
   in king's palaces. We gather up gold and silver as if they were but the
   pebbles of the sea; and anon we are poor and naked, shivering in the
   blast. What illusions deceive us! The beggar in his dream becomes
   richer than Plautus, and the rich man as poor as Lazarus: the sick man
   is well, the healthy man hath lost his limbs, or is dead. Yea, dreams
   do make us descend to hell, or even carry us to heaven. Christian, if
   thou art one of the sleepy brotherhood, thou art subject to divers
   illusions. Strange thoughts come to thee which thou never hadst before.
   Sometimes thou doubtest if there be a God, or if thou dost exist
   thyself. Thou tremblest lest the gospel should not be true, and the old
   doctrine which once thou didst hold with a stern hand, thou art almost
   inclined to let go. Vile heresies assail thee. Thou thinkest that the
   Lord that bought thee was not the Son of God. The devil tells thee that
   thou art none of the Lord's, and thou dreamest that thou art cast away
   from the love of the covenant. Thou criest

   "I would, but cannot sing;

   I would, but cannot pray;"

   and thou feelest as if it were all in question whether thou art one of
   the Lord's or no. Or perhaps thy dreams are brighter, and thou dreamest
   that thou art somebody, great and mighty, a special favorite of Heaven;
   pride puffs thee up; thou dreamest that thou art rich, and hast need of
   nothing, whilst thou art naked, poor, and miserable. Is this thy state,
   O Christian? If so, may God wake thee up from it!

   Again, sleep is a state of inaction. No daily bread is earned by him
   that sleepeth. The man who is stretched upon his couch neither writeth
   books, nor tilleth the ground, nor plougheth the sea, nor doth aught
   else. His hands hang down, his pulse beateth, and life there is, but he
   is positively dead as to activity. O beloved, here is the state of many
   of you. How many Christians are inactive! Once it was their delight to
   instruct the young in the Sabbath- school, but that is now given up.
   Once they attended the early prayer-meeting, but not now. Once they
   would be hewers of wood and drawers of water, but alas! they are asleep
   now. Am I talking of what may happen! Is it not too true almost
   universally? Are not the churches asleep? Where are the ministers that
   preach? We have men that read the manuscripts, and talk essays: but is
   that preaching? We have men that can amuse an audience for twenty
   minutes. Is that preaching? Where are the men that preach their hearts
   out, and say their soul in every sentence? Where are the men that make
   it, not a profession, but a vocation, the breath of their bodies, the
   marrow of their bones, the delight of their spirits? Where are the
   Whitefields and Wesleys now? Are they not gone, gone, gone? Where are
   the Rowland Hills now, who preached every day, and three times a day,
   and were not afraid of preaching everywhere the unsearchable riches of
   Christ? Brethren, the Church slumbers. It is not merely that the pulpit
   is a sentry-box with the sentinel fast asleep; but the pews are
   affected. How are the prayer-meetings almost universally neglected! Our
   own church stands out like an almost solitary green islet in the midst
   of a dark, dark, sea; one bright pearl in the depths of an ocean of
   discord and confusion. Look at neighboring churches. Step into the
   vestry, and see a smaller band of people than you would like to think
   of, assembled round the pastor, whose heart is dull and heavy. Hear one
   brother after another pour out the dull monotonous prayer that he has
   said by heart these fifty years; and then go away and say: "Where is
   the spirit of prayer, where the life of devotion?" Is it not almost
   extinct? Are not our churches "fallen, fallen, fallen from their high
   estate?" God wake them up, and send them more earnest and praying men!

   Once more. The man who is asleep is in a state of insecurity. The
   murderer smiteth him that sleeps: the midnight robber plundereth his
   house that resteth listlessly on his pillow. Jael smiteth a sleeping
   Sisera. Abner taketh away the spear from the bolster of a slumbering
   Saul A sleeping Eutychus falleth from the third loft, and is taken up
   dead. A sleeping Samson is shorn of his locks, and the Philistines are
   upon him. Sleeping men are ever in danger; they cannot ward off the
   blow of the enemy, or strike another. Christian, if thou art sleeping,
   thou art in danger. Thy life, I know, can never be taken from thee;
   that is hid with Christ in God. But O! thou mayest lose thy spear from
   thy bolster; thou mayest lose much of thy faith; and thy cruse of
   water, wherewith thou dost moisten thy lips, may be stolen by the
   prowling thief. O! thou little knowest thy danger. Even now the
   black-winged angel takes his spear, and standing at thy head, he says
   to Jesus (to David), "Shall I smite him? I will smite him but once."
   (David says) Our Jesus whispers, "Thou shalt not smite him. Take his
   spear and his cruse, but thou shalt not kill him." But O! awake, thou
   slumber! Start up from the place where thou now liest in thy
   insecurity! This is not the sleep of Jacob, in which ladders unite
   heaven and earth, and angels tread their ascending rounds; but this is
   the sleep where ladders are raised from hell, and devils climb upward
   from the pit to molest thy spirit.

   II. This brings me to the second point, Some considerations to wake up
   sleepy Christians. I remember, once in my life, having a sleepy
   congregation. They had been eating too much dinner, and they came to
   the chapel in the afternoon very sleepy, so I tried an old expedient to
   rouse them. I shouted with all my might, "Fire! fire! fire!" when,
   starting from their seats, some of the congregation asked where it was;
   and I told them it was in hell, for such sleepy sinners as they were.
   So, beloved, I might cry "Fire! fire!" this morning, to waken sleepy
   Christians; but that would be a false cry, because the fire of hell was
   never made for Christians at all, and they need never tremble at it.
   The honor of God is engaged to save the meanest sheep; and whether that
   sheep is asleep or awake, it is perfectly safe, so far as final
   salvation is concerned. There are better reasons why I should stir up a
   Christian, and I shall use a very few of them.

   And first, O Christian! awake from thy slumber, because thy Lord is
   coming. That is the grand reason used in the text. The apostle says,
   "Ye are all the children of light, and the children of the day."
   "Yourselves know perfectly that the day of the Lord so cometh as a
   thief in the night." "Ye brethren, are not in darkness, that that day
   should overtake you as a thief." O Christians! do you know that your
   Lord is coming? In such an hour as ye think not, the man who once hung
   quivering on Calvary will descend in glory; "The head that once was
   crowned with thorns" will soon be crowned with a diadem of brilliant
   jewels. He will come in the clouds of heaven to his church. Would you
   wish to be sleeping when your Lord comes? Do you want to be like the
   foolish virgins, or like the wise ones, either, who, while the
   bridegroom tarried, slumbered and slept? If our Master were to appear
   this morning, are there not half of us in such a state that we should
   be afraid to see him? Why, you know, when a friend comes to your house,
   if he is some great man, what brushing and dusting there is. Every
   corner of the room has its cobwebs removed; every carpet is turned up;
   and you make every effort to have the house clean for his coming. What!
   and will you have your house dusty, and the spiders of neglect building
   the cobwebs of indolence in the corners of your house, when your Lord
   may arrive tomorrow? And if we are to have an audience with the Queen,
   what dressing there is! How careful will men be that everything should
   be put on aright, that they should appear properly in court dress! Do
   you not know, servant of the Lord, that you are to appear before the
   king in his beauty, and to see him soon on earth? What! will ye be
   asleep when he comes? When he knocks at the door, shall he have for an
   answer, "The good man is asleep; he did not expect you"? Oh, no; be ye
   like men who watch for their Lord, that at his coming he may find you
   ready. Ah! ye carnal professors, who attend plays and balls, would you
   like Christ to come and find you in the middle of your dance? would you
   like him to look you in the face in the opera? Ah! ye carnal tradesmen,
   ye can cheat, and then pray after it. Would you like Christ to find you
   cheating? Ye devour widows' houses, and for a show make long prayers.
   You would not mind him coming in the middle of your long prayer; but he
   will come just at that poor widow's house is sticking in your throat,
   just as you are swallowing the lands of the poor oppressed on, and
   putting in your pocket the wages of which you have defrauded the
   labourer. Then he will come; and how terrible will he be to such as
   you! We have heard of the sailor, who, when his ship was sinking,
   rushed to the cabin to steal a bag of gold, and though warned that he
   could no swim with it, tied it about his loins, leaped into the sea
   with it, and sank to rise no more. And I am afraid there be some rich
   men who know not how to use their money, who will sink to hell,
   strangled by their gold, hanging like millstones round their necks. O
   Christian, it shall not b so with you; but wake from thy slumbers, for
   thy Lord cometh.

   But again, Christian, thou art benevolent; thou lovest men's souls, and
   I will speak to thee of that which will touch thy heart. Wilt thou
   sleep while souls are being lost? A brother here, some time ago, rushed
   into a house which was burning, and he saved a person from it; he then
   returned to his wife, and what did she say to him? "Go back again, my
   husband, and see if you cannot save another. We will not rest till all
   are delivered." Methinks that this is what the Christian man would say:
   "If I have been the means of saving one soul, I will not rest until I
   have saved another." Oh, hast thou ever thought how many souls sink
   into hell every hour? Did the dreary thought that the death-knell of a
   soul is tolled by every tick of yonder clock, ever strike thee? Hast
   thou never thought that myriads of thy fellow creatures are in hell
   now, and that myriads more are hastening thither? and yet dost thou
   sleep? What! physician, wilt thou sleep while men are dying? Sailor,
   wilt thou sleep when the wreck is out at sea, and the life- boat is
   waiting for hands to man it! Christian, wilt thou tarry while souls are
   being lost? I do not say that thou canst save them--God alone can do
   that--but thou mayest be the instrument; and wouldst thou lose the
   opportunity of winning another jewel for thy crown in heaven? wouldst
   thou sleep while work is being done? Well, said the British king, at
   the battle of Agincourt, "Come on, and conquer."

   And gentlemen in England--now a-bed,

   Shall think themselves accursed they were not here:

   And hold their manhood cheap, when any speaks

   That fought with us upon this glorious day."

   So methinks, when souls are being saved, Christians in bed may think
   themselves accursed they are not here. Sleep Christian, let me shout in
   thine ears--thou art sleeping while souls are being lost--sleeping
   while men are being damned--sleeping while hell is being
   peopled--sleeping while Christ is being dishonored--sleeping while the
   devil is grinning at thy sleepy face-- sleeping while demons are
   dancing around thy slumbering carcase, and telling it in hell that a
   Christian is asleep. You will never catch the devil asleep; let not the
   devil catch you asleep. Watch, and be sober, that ye may be always up
   to do your duty.

   I have no time to use other considerations, though the subject is large
   enough, and I should have no difficulty in finding sticks enough to
   beat a sleeping dog with. "Let us not sleep as do others."

   III. Now it may be asked, When is the Christian most liable to sleep?

   First, I answer, he is most liable to sleep when his temporal
   circumstances are all right. When your nest is well feathered you are
   then most likely to sleep; there is little danger of your sleeping when
   there is a bramble-bush in the bed. When all is downy, then the most
   likely thing will be that thou wilt say, "Soul, soul, thou hast much
   goods laid up for many years; take thy rest, eat, drink, and be merry."
   Let me ask some of you, when you were more straightened in
   circumstances, when you had to rely upon providence each hour and had
   troubles to take to the throne of grace, were you not more wakeful than
   you are now? The miller who hath his wheel turned by a constant stream
   goes too sleep; but he that attendeth on the wind, which sometimes
   bloweth hard and sometimes gently, sleeps not, lest haply the full gust
   might rend the sails or there should not be enough to make them go
   round. Those who live by the day often sleep not by day, but they sleep
   in the night,-- the sleep of the beloved. Easy roads tend to make us
   slumber. Few sleep in a storm; many sleep on a calm night. He is a
   brave boy, indeed, who can have his eyes sealed when "upon the high and
   giddy mast, in bosom of the rude imperious surge;" but he is no wonder
   who sleepeth when there is no danger. Why is the church asleep now? She
   would not sleep if Smithfield were filled with stakes, if Bartholomew's
   tocsin were ringing in her ears; she would not sleep if Sicilian
   Vespers might be sung tomorrow's eve; she would not sleep if massacres
   were common now. But what is her condition? Every man sitting under his
   own vine and his own fig tree, none daring to make him afraid. Tread
   softly! she is fast asleep. Wake up, church! or else we will cut down
   the fig tree about thine ears. Start up! for the figs are ripe, they
   hang into thy sleepy mouth, and thou art too lazy to bite them off.

   Now another dangerous time is when all goes well in spiritual matters.
   You never read that Christian went to sleep when lions were in the way;
   he never slept when he was going through the river Death, or when he
   was in Giant Despair's castle, or when he was fighting with Apollyon.
   Poor creature! he almost wished he could sleep then. But when he got
   halfway up the Hill Difficulty, and came to a pretty little arbor, in
   he went, and sat down and began to read his roll. O, how he rested
   himself! How he unstraped his sandals and rubbed his weary feet! Very
   soon his mouth was open, his arms hung down, and he was fast asleep.
   Again, the enchanted ground was a very easy, smooth place, and liable
   to send the pilgrim to sleep. You remember Bunyan's description of some
   of the arbors: "Then they came to an arbor, warm, and promising much
   refreshing to the weary pilgrims; for it was finely wrought above head,
   beautified with greens, and furnished with benches and settles. It had
   also in it a soft couch, where the weary might lean." "The arbor was
   called the Slothful's Friend, and was made on purpose to allure, if it
   might be, some of the pilgrims to take up their rest there when weary."
   Depend upon it, it is in easy places that men shut their eyes and
   wander into the dreamy land of forgetfulness. Old Erskine said a good
   thing when he remarked, "I like a roaring devil better than a sleeping
   devil." There is no temptation half so bad as not being tempted. The
   distressed soul does not sleep; it is after we get into confidence and
   full assurance that we are in danger of slumbering. Take care, thou who
   art full of gladness. There is no season in which we are so likely to
   fall asleep as that of high enjoyment. The disciples went to sleep
   after they had seen Christ transfigured on the mountain-top. Take heed,
   joyous Christian, good frames are very dangerous; they often lull you
   into a sound sleep.

   Yet there is one more thing; and, if I ever were afraid of anything, I
   should fear to speck before my grave and reverend fathers in the faith
   the fact that one of the most likely places for us to sleep in is when
   we get near our journey's end. It is ill for a child to say that, and I
   will therefore back it up by the words of that great pilot John Bunyan:
   "For this enchanted ground is one of the last refuges that the enemy to
   pilgrims has; wherefore it is, as you see, placed almost at the end of
   the way, and so it standeth against us with the more advantage. For
   when, thinks the enemy, will these fools be so desirous to sit down as
   when they are weary? and when so like to be weary as when almost at
   their journey's end? Therefore it is, I say, that the enchanted ground
   is placed so nigh to the land Beulah, and so near the end of their
   race. Wherefore let pilgrims look to themselves, lest it happen to them
   as it has done to these that, as you see, are fallen asleep, and none
   can awake them." May a child speck to those who are far before him in
   years and experience? But I am not a child when I preach. In the pulpit
   we stand as ambassadors of God, and God knoweth nothing of childhood or
   age; he teacheth whom he willeth, and speaketh as he pleases. It is
   true, my brethren, that those who have been years in grace are most in
   danger of slumbering. Somehow we get into the routine of the thing; it
   is usual for us to go to the house of God; it is usual for us to belong
   to the church, and that of itself tends to make people sleepy. Go into
   some of your churches in London, and you will hear a most delicious
   sermon preached to a people all sound asleep. The reason is that the
   service is all alike; they know when they have got to the third "Our
   Father which art in heaven." when they have passed the confession
   general, and when they have got to the sermon,--which is the time to
   sleep for twenty minutes. If the minister should smite his fist
   ecclesiastic upon the Bible, or enliven his faculties with a pinch of
   snuff, or even use his pocket handkerchief, the people would wake up,
   because it would be something out of the usual course. Or if he uttered
   an odd sentiment, they might be aroused, and would probably think that
   he had broken the 59th commandment, in making some of the congregation
   smile. But he never violates decorum; he stands, the very mirror of
   modesty and the picture of everything that is orderly. I have
   digressed, but you will see what I mean. If we are always going on the
   same road we are liable to sleep. If Moab gets at ease, and is not
   emptied from vessel to vessel, he sleeps on, for he knows no change,
   and when years have worn our road with a rut of godliness, we are apt
   to throw the reins on our horse's neck and sleep soundly.

   IV. Now, lastly let me give a little good advice to the sleeping
   Christian. But, Christian, if thou art asleep, thou wilt not hear me. I
   will speck gently, then, and let thee sleep on. No, I will not, I will
   shout in thine ears, "Awake, thou that sleepest! Arise from the dead,
   and Christ shall give thee light. Go to the ant, thou sluggard,
   consider her ways and be wise. Put on thy beautiful garments, O
   Jerusalem. Put on thy glorious array, thou church of the living God."

   But now what is the best plan to keep awake when you are going across
   the enchanted ground? This book tells us that one of the best plans is
   to keep Christian company, and talk about the ways of the Lord.
   Christian and Hopeful said to themselves, "Let us talk together, and
   then we shall not sleep." Christian said, "Brother, where shall we
   begin?" And Hopeful said, "We will begin where God began with us."
   There is no subject so likely to keep a man awake as talking of the
   place where God began with him. When Christian men talk together they
   won't sleep together. Hold Christian company, and you will not be so
   likely to slumber. Christians who isolate themselves and stand alone
   are very liable to lie down and sleep on the settle or the soft couch,
   and go to sleep; but, if you talk much together, as they did in old
   time, you will find it extremely beneficial. Two Christians talking
   together of the ways of the Lord will go much faster to heaven than
   one; and when a whole church unite in specking of the Lord's loving
   kindness, verily, beloved, there is no way like that of keeping
   themselves awake.

   Then let me remind you that if you will look at interesting things you
   will not sleep; and how can you be kept awake in the enchanted ground
   better than by holding up your Saviour before your eyes? There are some
   things, it is said, which will not let men shut their eyes if they are
   held before them. Jesus Christ crucified on Calvary is one of them. I
   never knew a Christian go to sleep at the foot of the cross; but he
   always said--

   "Sweet the moments, rich in blessing,

   Which before the cross I spend."

   And he said, too--

   "Here I'd sit, for ever viewing

   Mercies' streams in streams of blood."

   But he never said, "Here I would lay down and sleep;" for he could not
   sleep with that shriek, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani," in his ears. He
   could not sleep with "It is finished!" going into his very soul. Keep
   thou near to the cross, Christian, and thou wilt not sleep.

   Then I would advise thee to let the wind blow on thee; let the breath
   of the Holy Spirit continually fan thy temples, and thou wilt not
   sleep. Seek to live daily under the influence of the Holy Ghost; derive
   all thy strength from him, and thou wilt not slumber.

   Lastly, labor to impress thyself with a deep sense of the value of the
   place to which thou art going. If thou rememberest that thou art going
   to heaven, thou wilt not sleep on the road. If thou thinkest that hell
   is behind thee, and the devil pursuing thee, I am sure thou wilt not be
   inclined to sleep. Would the man-slayer sleep if the avenger of blood
   were behind him, and the city of refuge before him? Christian, wilt
   thou sleep whilst the pearly gates are open; the songs of angels
   waiting for thee to join them; a crown decorated with delight to be
   worn upon thy brow? Ah, no!

   "Forget the steps already trod,

   And onward urge thy way."

   "Weak as thou art, thou shalt not faint,

   Or, fainting, shalt not die;

   He feeds the strength of every saint,

   He'll help thee from on high."

   Dearly beloved, I have finished my sermon. There are some of you that I
   must dismiss, because I find nothing in the text for you. It is said,
   "Let us not sleep as do others, but let us watch and be sober." There
   are some here who do not sleep at all, because they are positively
   dead; and, if it takes a stronger voice than mine to wake the sleeper,
   how much more mighty must be that voice which wakes the dead. Yet even
   to the dead I speck; for God can wake them, though I cannot. O, dead
   man! dost thou not know that thy body and thy soul are worthless
   carrion? that whilst thou art dead thou liest abhorred of God, abhorred
   of man? that soon the vultures of remorse will come and devour thy
   lifeless soul; and, though thou hast lived in this world these seventy
   years (perhaps) without God and without Christ, in thy last hour the
   vulture of remorse shall come and tear thy spirit; and, though thou
   laughest now at the wild bird that circles in the sky, he will descend
   upon thee soon, and thy death will be a bed of shrieks, howlings, and
   wailings, and lamentations and yells! Dost thou know more still, that
   afterwards that dead soul will be cast into Tophet; and, as in the East
   they burn the bodies, so thy body and thy soul together shall be burned
   in hell? Go not away and dream that this is a metaphor. It is truth.
   Say not it is a fiction; laugh not at it as a mere picture. Hell is a
   positive flame; it is a fire that burns the body, albeit that it burns
   the soul, too. There is physical fire for the body, and there is
   spiritual fire for the soul. Go thy way, O man; such shall be thy fate.
   E'en now thy funeral pile is building, thy years of sin have laid huge
   trees across each other; and see, the angel is flying down from heaven
   with a brand already lit; thou art lying dead upon the pile; he puts
   the brand to the base thereof; thy disease proves that the lower parts
   are kindling with the flame; those pains of thine are the crackling of
   the fire. It shall reach thee soon, thou poor diseased one; thou art
   near death, and when it reaches thee thou shalt know the meaning of the
   fire that is unquenchable, and the worm that dieth not. Yet while there
   is hope I will tell thee the gospel. "He that believeth and is baptized
   shall be saved, and he that believeth not shall be," must be "damned."
   He that believeth on the Lord Jesus, that is, with a simple, naked
   faith, comes and puts his trust in him, shall be saved, without
   anything else; but he that believeth not shall inevitably--hear it,
   men, and tremble--he that believeth not shall assuredly be damned.

   P.S.--It is frequently objected that the preacher is censorious: he is
   not desirous of defending himself from the charge. He is confident that
   many are conscious that his charges are true, and if true, Christian
   love requires us to warn those who err; nor will candid men condemn the
   minister who is bold enough to point out the faults of the church and
   the age, even when all classes are moved to anger by his faithful
   rebukes, and pour on his head the full vials of their wrath. IF THIS BE
   VILE, WE PURPOSE TO BE VILER STILL.--C.H.S.
     __________________________________________________________________

                   Lions Lacking--But the Children Satisfied

   A Sermon

   (No. 65)

   Delivered on Sabbath Morning, February 10, 1856, by the

   REV. C.H. SPURGEON

   At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

   On behalf of the Baptist Fund for the Relief of Poor Ministers.

   "The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger; but they that seek the
   Lord shall not want any good thing."--Psalm 34:10.

   RIGHT truly did Paul say, "Whereby he hath given unto us exceeding
   great and precious promises;" for surely this promise is exceeding
   great indeed. In the entire compass of God's holy word, there is not to
   be found a precious declaration which can excel this in sweetness; for
   how could God promise to use more than all things? how could even his
   infinite benevolence stretch the line of his grace farther than it hath
   gone in this verse of the psalm?--"They that seek the Lord shall not
   want any good thing." There is here no reserve; nothing is kept back;
   there is no solitary word of exception. There is no codicil in this
   will striking off the smallest portion of the estate; there is no
   caveat put in to warn us that there are domains upon which we must not
   intrude; a large field is laid before the children of God; a wide door
   is open, and no man can shut it. "They that seek the Lord shall not
   want any good thing."

   Now, we shall notice, first of all, the Christian character beautifully
   delineated. "They that seek the Lord;' secondly, we shall notice a
   promise set in a glorious light by a contrast, "they shall not want any
   good thing," although the young lions do lack and suffer hunger;" and
   thirdly, we shall consider whether we cannot bring some evidence to
   prove the fulfilment of the promise.

   I. First, we have here a very short, but very beautiful DESCRIPTION OF
   A TRUE CHRISTIAN: he is said to "seek the Lord." "They that seek the
   Lord (Or Jehovah, as the original has it) shall not want any good
   thing." Ah! beloved, if some of us had the drawing up of this
   description we should have made it too narrow. Possibly some of you
   might have said, "They that seek the Lord in the established church,
   within the pale of the state religion, shall not lack any good thing;"
   others might have said, "They that seek the Lord in the orthodox
   Calvinistic manner shall not lack any good thing;" and others might
   have said, "They that seek the Lord in the Baptist fashion, or the
   Methodist fashion, or some other, shall not lack any good thing." But
   it is not written so. It is written, "They that seek the Lord," in
   order that it may take in the Lord's people of all classes and
   denominations, and all shades of character. It is a description very
   brief, yet full and comprehensive, including Christians in all stages
   and positions. Now let me show you that the Christian, in whatever
   portion of his spiritual history he may be, is one that seeks the Lord.

   We commence with conviction of sin. That is where God begins with us,
   and no man is a Christian unless the Holy Spirit has revealed to him in
   his own entire helplessness, his want of merit, and absence of power
   ever to accumulate merit in the sight of God. Well, then, the man who
   is under a conviction of sin, and feels his need of a Saviour--what is
   he doing? What is his occupation, now that he is hungering and
   thirsting after righteousness? Why, he is seeking the Lord. Ask him
   what is his one want, and he will say, Christ is all my desire: I rise
   early in the morning, and the first thought I have is, O that I knew
   where I might find him?' I am in my business, and my ejaculatory
   prayers go up to heaven like hands searching for Jesus; and when I lie
   down again upon my bed, my heart says, I seek him whom my soul loveth:
   I seek him, but I find him not.'" Such a man will offer prayer. Why?
   Not because there is any merit in it, not because he will be praised
   for it, but to seek the Lord. He turns the pages of Scripture, not as
   he would a book of philosophy, from curiosity, or for mere instruction,
   but to seek the Lord. He has one passion, one desire--to seek the Lord.
   For that he would barter his life, and be content to have his name
   cancelled from the register of men below, if he might but find the Lord
   Jesus, desiring above everything to have his name recorded in some
   humble place in the Lamb's book of life. Are you thus in the dim morn
   of spiritual life seeking the Lord? Is he your one object of pursuit?
   Rejoice then, and tremble not, for the promise is to you in this
   earlier stage of your calling, when you are only just struggling into
   being, "They that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing."

   But let us go a stage further on, when the Christian has found the
   Saviour, and is justified, when he can say, in those sweet words I so
   often repeat,

   "Now, freed from sin I walk at large,

   My Jesu's blood's my full discharge."

   You will find that he has not left off seeking the Lord. No; he seeks
   now to know more of him; he seeks to understand more of the heights and
   depths, and lengths, and breadths of the love of Christ, which passeth
   knowledge. I ask any one here who has an assurance that he is a
   pardoned man, thoroughly justified and complete in Christ--are you not
   seeking the Lord? "Oh yes," you say, "I thirst, I long to know more of
   him; I feel that all I have ever known of him is like the whispering of
   the sea in the shell, while the awful roar of the sea itself has not
   yet reached mine ears. I have heard the whisperings of Christ in some
   little mercy, and I have heard his bounties sing of bottomless,
   eternal, unchangeable love; but oh! I long to plunge into the sea
   itself, to bathe myself in the broad ocean of his infinite generosity
   and love to me." No Christian ever fancies that he knows enough of his
   Master; there is no Christian who has found the Lord who does not
   desire to be better acquainted with him. "Lord, I will follow thee
   whithersoever thou goest," is the cry of the man who has had his sins
   forgiven. He sitteth down at the feet of Jesus, and looketh up to him,
   and saith, "Master, teach me more; I am a little child; thou art a
   great instructor; oh! I long to love and learn more of thee." He is
   ever seeking the Lord; and, in this more advanced stage, the promise to
   him is, "They that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing."

   But go a little further on, when the Christian has scarcely ever a
   shadow of a doubt of his acceptance; he has progressed so far in
   spiritual life that he has attained to the stature of a perfect man in
   Christ Jesus; his faith has become so confident, that

   "His steady soul doth fear no more

   Than solid rocks when billows roar."

   He can read his "title clear to mansions in the skies;" he has climbed
   the Delectable Mountain; his feet are standing fast upon a rock, and
   his goings are established; but even then he is seeking the Lord. In
   the highest flights of his assurance, on the topmost pinnacle of his
   faith, there is something yet beyond. When he had sailed farthest into
   the sea of Acceptance, there are Fortunate Isles that he hath not
   reached; there is an ultima thule, a distant land, that he hath not yet
   seen. He is still seeking the Lord; he feels that he has "not yet
   attained;" he is still "pressing forward to the mark for the prize of
   the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." But then he seeks the Lord in
   a different fashion; he seeks him that he may put a crown on his head;
   he is not seeking him for mercy, but to give him praise. Oh, that my
   heart could find thee! that all its strings might sing sweet music to
   thee. Oh that my mouth could find thine ear, and that I might bid it
   open and listen to the whisper of my song. Oh that I knew where thou
   didst dwell, that I might sing hard by the eaves of thy habitation, and
   that thou mightest hear me ever--that I might perpetually send the
   songs of my gratitude up to thy sacred courts? I seek thee that I may
   break the alabaster box of praise on thy dear sacred head. I seek thee
   that I may put my soul upon the altar, and sacrifice my living self to
   thee. I seek thee, that I may go where cherubim are singing, whom I
   envy, because they

   "All night long unwearied sing

   High praises to the Eternal King."

   I will seek thee in business, that there I may adorn the doctrine of
   God my Saviour in all things. I will seek thee in my songs that I may
   hymn thy praise. I will seek thee in my musings, that I may magnify the
   Lord in my thoughts. I will seek thee in my words, that my conversation
   may show forth thy praise. I will seek thee in my gifts of benevolence,
   that I may be like my Saviour. I will seek thee ever, for enough I have
   attained to know that I am thine and thou art mine, though I have
   nought else to ask of thee, seeing thou hast given me thyself; though
   thou art

   "Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh,

   My kinsman near allied by blood,"

   though now my soul stands perfect in thee, and

   "Not a shadow of a spot

   Can on my soul be found,"

   yet still I will seek thee-seek to honor thee-seek to kiss those
   blessed feet that bled for me--seek to worship that dear "man who once
   on Calvary died," and put crowns of eternal unfading honor upon his
   blessed, thorn-crowned, but now exalted brow.

   Then bring the Christian to the last period of life, to the brink of
   death. Set him on those hoary rocks that skirt the edge of Jordan; let
   him sit there, looking down at the dark stream rolling rapidly below,
   not afraid to wade it, but rather wishing to die that he may be with
   Jesus. Ask the old man what he is doing, and he will answer, "Seeking
   the Lord." But I thought thou hadst found him many a year, old man? "So
   I have, but when I found him I sought him more; and I am seeking him
   now--seeking him that I may be complete in him, at his appearing; that
   I may be like him when I shall see him as he is. I have sought to
   understand more of his love to me, and now I do not know it all. I know
   as much as mortal can know; I am living in the land of Beulah. See this
   bunch of spices; angel hands have brought it to me, a present from my
   King; here are tokens of his love, his mercy, and his grace. And dost
   not see yonder the golden light of the celestial city? and didst not
   hear just now the sweet singing of the angels?" "Nay, nay," saith the
   young man, "I hear them not." "But," the old man replies, "I am on the
   edge of Jordan, and my ears are open, whereas thine are dull, still I
   am doing what I have done all my life-long--seeking the Lord, and till
   this pulse shall cease its perpetual beating, I will still seek him,
   that dying, I may clasp him in my arms, the antidote of death."

   You will readily confess that this description of a Christian is
   invariably correct. You may take the youngest child of God--yon little
   boy ten years old, who has just been baptized, and received into the
   church. Ask what he is doing? "Seeking the Lord." Follow him till he
   becomes a middle-aged man with all the cares of life about him. Ask
   what he is doing then? Still he answers, "Seeking the Lord." Put a few
   grey hairs upon his head, and let him know that half a century has
   gone. Again, ask what he is doing? "Seeking the Lord." Then make his
   head all frosty with the winters of old age, and ask him the same
   question; and he will still reply, "Seeking the Lord." Take away those
   hairs until the head is entirely bald, and the man is trembling on the
   grave; what is he doing then? "Seeking the Lord." Ay, as long as we are
   in this body, whatever our position, or condition, this will ever apply
   to us: "They that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing."

   But let us not leave this one point without asking you one solemn
   question. Will you answer it? I beseech you to answer it to yourselves.
   Are ye seeking the Lord? Nay; some of you there, if you only can have
   your bottle of wine and your fowl, that will satisfy you better than
   seeking the Lord. There is another--give you health and strength and
   let you enjoy the pleasures of this world, and that will be better to
   you than seeking the Lord. There is another flying in the face of the
   Almighty, cursing and swearing--you are not seeking the Lord. Another
   is here this morning who once thought that he did seek the Lord, but he
   has left off doing it now; he went away from us because he was not of
   us, for, "if he had been of us, he doubtless would have continued with
   us." There is a young woman who thought she sought the Lord once, but
   she has gone astray, she has backslidden, proving that after all that
   it was mere excitement. Would God I could include you all in this
   promise this morning; but can I, dare I, must I? No, I must not. As the
   Lord liveth, if you are not seeking the Lord, the devil is seeking you;
   if you are not seeking the Lord, judgment is at your heels. Even now,
   the swift-winged angel of justice is holding the torch before the
   fierce messenger of vengeance who, with his naked dagger, is about to
   execute the wrath of God upon your spirit. Ah! take no lease of your
   lives; fancy not that you are to live for ever. If you have not sought
   the Lord, as Jonathan Edwards said, "thou standest over the mouth of
   hell upon a single plank, and that plank is rotten." You are hanging
   over hell by a single rope, and all the strands of the rope are
   creaking, snapping, breaking. Remember after death, judgment; and after
   judgment, woe; and after woe, nought; for woe, woe, woe, must be for
   ever. "The wrath to come! The wrath to come! The wrath to come!" It
   needs a damned spirit to start from the grave to preach to you, and let
   you know something of it; but though one should rise from the grave
   with all the scars of all his torments upon him, with his hair all
   crisp by the hot fire of vengeance, his body scorched in the flames
   which no abatement know, though he should tell you with a tear at every
   word and a groan as a stop at every sentence, and a deep sigh on every
   syllable, how horribly he feels, how damnably he is tormented, still ye
   would not repent. Therefore we will say little of it. May God the Holy
   Ghost seek you, and then you will seek him, and you shall be turned
   from darkness to light, from the power of Satan unto God.

   II. Now we come to THE PROMISE SET FORTH BY WAY OF CONTRAST. "they
   shall not want any good thing:" that is the jewel. "The young lions do
   lack and suffer hunger;" that is the foil to set off the jewel and make
   it shine more brightly. "They shall not want any good thing." I can
   hardly speak of that, for there is too much to say. Did you never see a
   horse let into a wide field where the grass grew so thickly, that he
   scarcely knew where to begin to eat? If not, you have seen children
   taken into the field where wild flowers grow; it is so full of them in
   their liveries of white and yellow that the children know not where to
   pluck first, they have so wide a choice. That is how I feel when I have
   such a text as this: "They that seek the Lord shall not want any good
   thing." We have heard of the celebrated cheque for a million pounds
   which has been preserved; here is one for millions of millions. Here is
   a promise wide as our wants, large as our necessities, deep as our
   distresses. There are some persons whose ambitious desires are very
   much like the Slough of Despond, which, though the king's labourers
   cast in thousands of tons of good material, never could be filled up.
   But the Lord can fill them. However bottomless our desires, however
   deep our wishes, however high our aspirations, all things meet in this
   promise, "They that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing."

   We take it concerning things spiritual. Are we wanting a sense of
   pardon? We shall not want it long. Are we desiring stronger faith? We
   shall not want it long. Do you wish to have more love to your Saviour,
   to understand more concerning inward communion with Jesus? You shall
   have it. "They that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing." Do
   you desire to renounce your sins, to be able to overcome this
   corruption or that? to attain this virtue, or that excellency? "They
   that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing." Is it adoption,
   justification, sanctification, that thou wantest? "Thou shalt not lack
   any good thing."

   But are thy wants temporal? Dost thou want bread and water? No, I know
   thou dost not, for it is said, "Bread shall be given thee, and thy
   water shall be sure." Or, if thou dost want it somewhat, it shall come
   before long; it shall not be to starvation. David said, "I have been
   young and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor
   his seed begging bread." Do you want clothes? You shall have them. "He
   that clothes the lilies of the valley, will he not much more clothe
   you, O ye of little faith?" Do you need temporary supplies. You, shall
   receive them, for "your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of
   these things." Whatever your desire, there is the promise, only go and
   plead it at the throne, and God will fulfil it. We have no right to
   look for the fulfilment of the promises unless we put the Promiser in
   mind of them, although truly, at times, he exceeds our desires or
   wishes. He gives us these promises as his notes of hand, his bills of
   exchange, and if we do not take our notes to get them cashed at the
   throne it is our fault, for the promise is just as good: "they that
   seek the Lord shall not want any good thing."

   But here is a contrast, and we will proceed to that at once. "The young
   lions do lack and suffer hunger; but they that seek the Lord shall not
   want any good thing." The old Psalter has it: "The rich had need, and
   they hungered; but seekers of the Lord shall not be lessed of all
   good." It appears that there is only the difference of a very little
   mark in the Hebrew between the words "mighty men" and "young lions."
   But it is of very little consequence for, doubtless "the young lions"
   are put by way of figure to denominate certain characters of men who do
   "lack and suffer hunger."

   There are certain men in the world who, like the lions, are kings over
   others. The lion is lord of the forest, and at his roar others tremble;
   so are there men who walk about among us--noblemen, respectable, great,
   honorable--persons who are had in reverence and esteem; and they
   suppose, sometimes, because they are lions they are sure never to have
   any spiritual hunger. They are great and mighty men; they have no need
   of a Saviour. Are they not the elders of the city? are they not mighty
   men of valour? are they not noble and great! They are, moreover, so
   excellent in their own esteem that their proper language seems to be
   when they come before their Maker's bar: "Lord, I had not a very bad
   nature, and wherein it was a little bad, I made the best of it! and
   wherein I did not do quite as well as I ought, Jesus Christ will make
   it up." Talk to these men about being depraved! "Rubbish!" they say;
   they know better; their heart is pure enough. They have no need of the
   Holy Spirit; they are young lions; you small mice may want it, but not
   they indeed! They have no need of another's righteousness to cover
   them; their old shaggy mane is glory enough to them. But do you know
   these young lions "lack and suffer hunger;" ay, even when we do not
   know anything about it? They can play bombast before men, but they
   "lack and suffer hunger" when they are alone. A suspicion often crosses
   their minds that their righteousness is not good for much; they know
   very well that while they can make a long prayer the poor widow's house
   sticks in their throat; that while they boast of their good works they
   are no better than they should be. You may think, perhaps, like David,
   that "they are not plagued like other men." But you don't know that.
   They are very often plagued when they do not tell you. When they roar
   so loudly their mane scarcely covers their bare ribs. "The young lions
   do lack and suffer hunger;" but, blessed be God, "they that seek the
   Lord shall not want any good thing." Poor and helpless though they are,
   having no works of righteousness of their own, confessing their sin and
   depravity, they shall want no good thing. Is it not amazing? There is a
   poor sinner who has sinned against God and in every way dishonored his
   name; yet he cannot lack any good thing.

   "Poor, helpless worms in Christ possess

   Grace, wisdom, peace, and righteousness."

   Again, by young lions we may understand men of cunning and men of
   wisdom. The lion goeth out at night, and prowleth silently through the
   jungle. It hath a keen scent, and knoweth where to find its prey. It
   scenteth the fountain, and knoweth that the antelope will go there to
   drink. When he comes, the lion croucheth down, with wild eyes looks
   upon him, and in a moment, ere the antelope is aware, he is in the
   fangs of the lion. Men of cunning and wisdom--have you not seen such?
   Have you not heard their boastful exclamation, "Submit myself to a
   dogmatical preacher! No, sir, I will not. Believe in the plenary
   inspiration of the Scriptures! I cannot believe in any such absurdity.
   Sit at the feet of Jesus and learn of him in the Scriptures! No, sir, I
   cannot. I like something to discuss; I like an intellectual religion; I
   cannot believe everything simply because God says it. I want to be
   allowed to judge for myself. Am I not wise learned?" And when he sees
   us in distress, sometimes he says, "Nonsense! you have no brains! you,
   poor Calvinists must be bereft of your senses." And yet we can show as
   many men of sense as they can, and we are not afraid of them, however
   much they glory in their wisdom. But sometimes the poor Christian is
   frightened by them; he cannot answer their sophisms; he does not see
   his way through their labyrinths, and cannot escape from their nets.
   Well, don't try to escape from them. Let them talk on; the best answer
   is often silence. But do you know that these young lions so gloriously
   self-sufficient when in argument with you, in secrecy often "lack and
   suffer hunger?" There was never an infidel in the world that did not
   suffer spiritual hunger, though he might not confess it. His creed did
   not satisfy him; there was a hollow place, an aching void somewhere,
   which the world could never fill. But "they that seek the Lord," who
   take the Scriptures for their guide, who bow implicity to the words of
   Jehovah, "do not lack any good thing." They feel no hollow unoccupied;
   Christ has filled their hearts, and they are satisfied with his
   presence and his love. "The young lions do lack, and suffer hunger: but
   they that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing."

   Again, the young lions denote those who are very strong, so that they
   hope to save themselves, and very swift in their course of profession.
   Some are very fierce in the matter of religion, very anxious to obtain
   salvation; and they are very strong, so that they think it scorn to
   borrow strength of another. Like the Jews, they follow after
   righteousness, but they do not attain it because they seek it by the
   works of the law. Have you never seen what they will do? There is a
   goodly chapel they have built; they are engaged at six o'clock in the
   morning at prayers, and repeat so many Ave Marias and Pater-nosters;
   then comes the daily service, the mass, and all that rubbish--the
   messe, as they call it in France, and verily a mess it is; then they
   whip themselves, fetch blood from their bodies, and perform all kinds
   of penances. Even among Protestants, meritmongery is not quite gone by;
   for there be many who are full of holy works, in which they are
   thursting for salvation. The poor Christian says, "I cannot perform all
   these works; I wish it were in my power to serve the Lord more
   devoutly." But dost thou not know that these "young lions do lack, and
   suffer hunger?" The formalist is never satisfied with all his forms;
   the hypocrite is never contented; there is always something he misses
   that makes his heart ache.

   Then we may take it in a temporal sense. Young lions may mean deep
   cunning schemers. Have you never seen men with their thousand schemes
   and plans to make themselves rich, men who can overreach others, who
   are so subtle that you cannot see through them? Their instinct seems to
   be cunning. They are always lying in wait to take advantage of others;
   they prowl the world around, to seize on the helpless widow and the
   defenceless orphan. Or, perhaps, they may be following more legitimate
   schemes yet, such as are full of speculation and will involve the
   exercise of all their wits. Surely such can live if others stand. But
   no, they are just the men who "lack and suffer hunger;" their schemes
   all prove futile; the arrow which they shoot returneth on their own
   head and woundeth them. But they who lie gently down in passive faith,
   singing

   "Father, I wait thy daily will;

   Thou shalt divide my portion still,

   Give me on earth what seems thee best,

   'Till death and heaven reveal the rest,"

   do not lack any good thing.

   Again, by "young lions," we may understand "rich men"--men who have
   abundance. We have known persons who have ridden in fine carriages and
   dwelt in noble mansions, brought to the depths of poverty. Every now
   and then we hear of men, almost millionares, who are turned out into
   the very streets. Kings have walked our soil without their crowns, and
   nobles even now are living on our charity. Daughters of men in high
   positions have to work as menials, and long sometimes to be allowed to
   do that. The rich sometimes "lack, and suffer hunger;" but they that
   wait on the Lord," poor as they may be, "do not lack any good thing."

   Again, this may apply to you who earn your living by bodily labour.
   Perhaps you are a weak and sickly man; you are not one of the "young
   lions," like your neighbour, a strong big fellow, who can earn his
   day's wages without the least difficulty. He says to you, perhaps, "I
   shouldn't like to be such a poor lean thing as you are. If you should
   be ill, what would become of you? You trust in Providence, but I trust
   in my big arms. The best providence is to take care of yourself--to go
   and eat a good dinner, and keep yourself in trim." Nay, nay; have you
   not seen those young lions, "lack and suffer hunger?" Our missionary
   can tell of strong men whom he visits, who cannot find employment, but
   are brought almost to starvation; while he does not find that they that
   wait on the Lord lack any good thing. Don't be afraid because you have
   a sick and weakly frame; labour as hard as you can, and be sure, that
   if you wait on the Lord you will not lack any good thing.

   Once more, the lion is a creature that overcomes and devours all
   others. We have some such in our society; you find them everywhere.
   They put their hand upon you, and you feel you are in a vice. They
   understand law better than you do: and woe be to you if you make a
   mistake! won't they take advantage of you? So in business they can
   always over-reach you; like sharks, if they do not devour you
   altogether, they leave you minus a leg or an arm. Yes, but you have
   seen these men, too, "lack and suffer hunger." And amongst all the
   miserable miscreants that walk the earth, there is none so destitute as
   the young lion that lacks, and suffers hunger. He puts his money into a
   bag full of holes; and methinks hell laughs at the covetous man, at him
   who grasps his neighbour's wealth. "Ha! ha!" says the devil, "damn thy
   soul to win--nothing! send thy soul to hell to win--a dream! A thing
   which thou hadst, but is gone; thou didst grasp it--it was a shadow!
   Sold thine immortal spirit to win a bubble which burst in thy grasp."
   Christian, do not be concerned about temporal things; trust in God; for
   while "young lions do lack, and suffer hunger, they that seek the Lord
   shall not want any good thing.

   III. And now, I come to the third part, which is THE FULFILMENT OF THE
   PROMISE. Time fails me, and I shall not try to prove to you that God
   can in the ordinary course of his providence make a distinction between
   the righteous and the wicked; that would be an easy task. While God has
   the hearts of all men under his control, he can make the rich give
   where he pleases; and he can influence the church, and those that love
   the Lord, always to take care of the Lord's poor. But I am going to
   state one or two facts by way of stimulating you to assist me in the
   noble enterprise of endeavouring to support the poor disabled ministers
   of the everlasting gospel. Amongst the particular Baptists we have a
   fund called the Baptists Fund. It was instituted in 1717, in order to
   afford assistance to ministers in England and Wales, who were in
   poverty and distress, in consequence of the inability of their churches
   and congregations to furnish them with a competent maintenance for
   themselves and their families. During nearly a century and a half, it
   has carried out, so far as its funds were sufficient, the benevolent
   purposes for which it was established. It publishes its accounts
   yearly; and from the last printed statement for 1854-5, it appears that
   in that year, one hundred and sixty-five cases were relieved in
   England, and sixty-five in the Principality, by grants in money to the
   amount of -L-1,560, no one receiving a larger sum than -L-10, and no
   grant being in any case made where the minister's income from every
   source exceed -L-80. In addition to the money grants, books also of the
   value together of -L-155 have been presented to thirty-five poor
   ministers unable to purchase them. Towards raising the necessary funds
   to meet these cases, collections are annually made in this and in
   number, character, and circumstances of the objects to be relieved, and
   the purpose for which the relief is afforded are considered, it will be
   well understood that this is no ordinary collection. We have the right
   of four votes, one for the pastor and three messengers sent by us,
   owing to our fathers having in olden times deposited -L-150 by way of
   starting the fund, the interest of which sum, and of that given by
   other churches, is spent every year. Different legacies having been
   left by other persons, a considerable sum has accumulated, and I
   believe the yearly income is somewhere about -L-2,000 at the present
   time. We need, however, much more. I am not going to detain you long by
   telling you about the fund, but I will read you one or two letters from
   the recipients. The first is from an old minister aged eighty.

   [It is thought best not to print these, lest the worthy men who wrote
   them should feel aggrieved.]

   I think I need add nothing more to move you. There are many poor
   ministers now, who, when they go up the pulpit stairs, are obliged to
   hold their arms pretty close to their bodies lest they should rend
   their coats to pieces; and I have seen them with such coats on, as you
   would not like to put on if you were going into the meanest chapel in
   London. I have myself found livery for some of these holy men year by
   year, but one person cannot supply the necessities of all. I know the
   case of a preacher who walked to a chapel, within ten miles of this
   spot, and preached in the morning, and walked back again; he also
   preaching in the evening, and had to walk back to his house; and what
   do you think the deacons gave him? The poor man had nothing else to
   live upon, and he was nearly eighty years of age. When he had finish
   (oh! don't hear it, ye angels! pray shut up your ears) they gave him--a
   shilling! That was for his day's work. Another brother told me some
   time ago that he preached three sermons, walking eight miles and back
   again and going dinnerless all the while; and the deacons gave him the
   munificent sum of--half-a-crown! Oh! if you knew all the circumstances
   connected with the fund, you would not long restrain your benevolence.
   The funds are mostly given to those who preach the gospel--gospel
   ministers of the best sort, men who preach what we consider to be
   gospel--Calvinistic sentiments. And the funds must always be given in
   that way, for so the deed directs it. I bless God for this society, and
   I ask you, under God, to take care of it, that while "the young lions
   do lack, and suffer hunger," the ministers of the Lord shall "not want
   any good thing."
     __________________________________________________________________

                          The Resurrection of the Dead

   A Sermon

   (No. 66)

   Delivered on Sabbath Morning, February 17, 1856, by the

   REV. C.H. SPURGEON

   At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

   "There shall be a resurrection of the dead, both the of the just and
   unjust."--Acts 24:15.

   Reflecting the other day upon the sad state of the churches at the
   present moment, I was led to look back to apostolic times, and to
   consider wherein the preaching of the present day differed from the
   preaching of the apostles. I remarked the vast difference in their
   style from the set and formal oratory of the present age. I remarked
   that the apostles did not take a text when they preached, nor did they
   confine themselves to one subject, much less to any place of worship,
   but I find that they stood up in any place and declared from the
   fulness of their heart what they knew of Jesus Christ. But the main
   difference I observed was in the subjects of their preaching. Surprised
   I was when I discovered that the very staple of the preaching of the
   apostles was the resurrection of the dead. I found myself to have been
   preaching the doctrine of the grace of God, to have been upholding free
   election, to have been leading the people of God as well as I was
   enabled into the deep things of his word; but I was surprised to find
   that I had not been copying the apostolic fashion half as nearly as I
   might have done. The apostles when they preached always testified
   concerning the resurrection of Jesus, and the consequent resurrection
   of the dead. It appears that the Alpha and the Omega of their gospel
   was the testimony that Jesus Christ died and rose again from the dead
   according to the Scriptures. When they chose another apostle in the
   room of Judas, who had become apostate, Acts I.22, they said, "One must
   be ordained to be a witness with us of his resurrection;" so that the
   very office of an apostle was to be a witness of the resurrection. And
   well did they fulfil their office. When Peter stood up before the
   multitude, he declared unto them that "David spoke of the resurrection
   of Christ." When Peter and John were taken before the council, the
   great cause of their arrest was that the rulers were grieved :because
   they taught the people and preached through Jesus the resurrection from
   the dead." Acts iv. 2. When they were set free, after having been
   examined, it is said, "With great power gave the apostles witness of
   the resurrection of the Lord Jesus: and great grace was upon them all."
   Acts iv. 33. It was this which stirred the curiosity of the Athenians
   when Paul preached among them, "They said, he seemeth to be a setter
   forth of strange gods, because he preached unto them Jesus and the
   resurrection of the dead." And this moved the laughter of the
   Areopagites, for when he spoke of the resurrection of the dead, "Some
   mocked, and others said, we will hear thee again of this matter." Truly
   did Paul say, when he stood before the council of the Pharisees and
   Sadducees, "Concerning the resurrection of the dead I am called in
   question." And equally truly did he constantly assert, "IF Christ be
   not risen from the dead, then is our preaching vain, and your faith is
   vain, and ye are yet in your sins." The resurrection of Jesus and the
   resurrection of the righteous is a doctrine which we believe, but which
   we too seldom preach or care to read about. Though I have inquired of
   several booksellers for a book specially upon the subject of the
   resurrection, I have not yet been able to purchase one of any sort
   whatever; and when I turned to Dr. Owen's works, which are a most
   invaluable storehouse of divine knowledge, containing much that is
   valuable on almost every subject; I could find, even there, scarcely
   more than the slightest mention of the resurrection. It has been set
   down as a well known truth, and therefore has never been discussed.
   Heresies have not risen up respecting it; it would almost have been a
   mercy if there had been, for whenever a truth is contested by heretics,
   the orthodox fight strongly for it, and the pulpit resounds with it
   every day. I am persuaded, however, that there is much power in this
   doctrine; and if I preach it this morning you will see that God will
   own the apostolic preaching, and there will be conversions. I intend
   putting it to the test now, to see whether there be not something which
   we cannot perceive at present in the resurrection of the dead, which is
   capable of moving the hearts of men and bringing them into subjection
   to the gospel of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.

   There are very few Christians who believe the resurrection of the dead.
   You may be surprised to hear that, but I should not wonder if I
   discovered that you yourself have doubts on the subject. By the
   resurrection of the dead is meant something very different from the
   immortality of the soul: that, every Christian believes, and therein is
   only on a level with the heathen, who believes it too. The light of
   nature is sufficient to tell us that the soul is immortal, so that the
   infidel who doubts it is a worse fool even than a heathen, for he,
   before Revelation was given, had discovered it--there are some faint
   glimmerings in men of reason which teach that the soul is something so
   wonderful that it must endure forever. But the resurrection of the dead
   is quite another doctrine, dealing not with the soul, but with the
   body. The doctrine is that this actual body in which I now exist is to
   live with my soul; that not only is the "vital spark of heavenly flame"
   to burn in heaven, but the very censer in which the incense of my life
   doth smoke is holy unto the Lord, and is to be preserved for ever. The
   spirit, every one confesses, is eternal; but how many there are who
   deny that the bodies of men will actually start up from their graves at
   the great day? Many of you believe you will have a body in heaven, but
   you think it will be an airy fantastic body, instead of believing that
   it will be a body like to this--flesh and blood (although not the same
   kind of flesh, for all flesh is not the same flesh), a solid,
   substantial body, even such as we have here. And there are yet fewer of
   you who believe that the wicked will have bodies in hell; for it is
   gaining ground everywhere that there are to be no positive torments for
   the damned in hell to affect their bodies, but that it is to be
   metaphorical fire, metaphorical brimstone, metaphorical chains,
   metaphorical torture. But if ye were Christians as ye profess to be, ye
   would believe that every mortal man who ever existed shall not only
   live by the immortality of his soul, but his body shall live again,
   that the very flesh in which he now walks the earth is as eternal as
   the soul, and shall exist for ever. That is the peculiar doctrine of
   Christianity. The heathens never guessed or imagined such a thing; and
   consequently when Paul spoke of the resurrection of the dead, "Some
   mocked," which proves that they understood him to speak of the
   resurrection of the body, for they would not have mocked had he only
   spoken of the immortality of the soul, that having been already
   proclaimed by Plato and Socrates, and received with reverence.

   We are now about to preach that there shall be a resurrection of the
   dead, both of the just and unjust. We shall consider first the
   resurrection of the just; and secondly, the resurrection of the unjust.

   I. There shall be A RESURRECTION OF THE JUST.

   The first proof I will offer of this, is, that it has been the constant
   and unvarying faith of the saints from the earliest periods of time.
   Abraham believed the resurrection of the dead, for it is said in the
   Epistle to the Hebrews, chapter 11 verse 19, that he "accounted that
   God was able to raise up Isaac even from the dead; from whence also he
   received him in a figure." I have no doubt that Joseph believed in the
   resurrection, for he gave commandment concerning his bones; and surely
   he would not have been so careful of his body if he had not believed
   that it should be raised from the dead. The Patriarch Job was a firm
   believer in it, for he said in that oft repeated text, Job. xix. 25,
   26: "For I know that my Redeemer liveth; and that he shall stand at the
   latter-day upon the earth: and though after my skin worms destroy this
   body, yet in my flesh shall I see God." David believed it beyond the
   shadow of a doubt, for he sang of Christ, "Thou wilt not leave my soul
   in hell, neither wilt thou suffer thine holy one to see corruption."
   Daniel believed it, for he said, that "Many who sleep in the dust shall
   rise, some to everlasting life, and some to everlasting contempt."
   Souls do not sleep in the dust; bodies do. It will do you good to turn
   to one or two passages and see what these holy men thought. For
   instance, in Isaiah, ch. xxvi. 19, you read: "Thy dead men shall live,
   together with my dead body shall they arise. Awake, and sing, ye that
   dwell in the dust; for thy dew is as the dew of herbs, and the earth
   shall cast out the dead." We will offer no explanation. The text is
   positive and sure. Let another prophet speak--Hosea, ch. vi. verses 1
   and 2: "Come and let us return unto the Lord: for he hath torn, and he
   will heal us; he hath smitten and he will bind us up. After two days he
   will revive us; in the third day he will raise us up, and we shall live
   in his sight." Although this does not declare the resurrection, yet it
   uses it as a figure which it would not do were it not regarded as a
   settled truth. It is declared by Paul, also, in Hebrews xi. 35, that
   such was the constant faith of the martyrs; for he says, "Others were
   tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better
   resurrection." All those holy men and women, who, during the time of
   the Maccabees, stood fast by their faith, and endured the fire and
   sword, and tortures unutterable, believed in the resurrection, and that
   resurrection stimulated them to give their bodies to the flames, not
   caring even for death, but believing that thereby they should attain to
   a blessed resurrection. But our Saviour brought the resurrection to
   light in the most excellent manner, for he explicitly and frequently
   declared it. "Marvel not," said he, "at what I have said unto you.
   Behold the hour cometh when they that are in their graves shall hear
   the voice of God." "The hour is coming when he will call the dead to
   judgment, and they shall stand before his throne." Indeed, throughout
   his preaching, there was one continued flow of firm belief, and a
   public and positive declaration of the resurrection of the dead. I will
   not trouble you with any passages from the writings of the Apostles;
   they abound therewith. In fact, Holy Scripture is so full of this
   doctrine that I marvel, brethren, that we should so soon have departed
   from the stedfastness of our faith, and that it should be believed in
   many churches that the actual bodies of the saints will not live again,
   and especially that the bodies of the wicked will not have a future
   existence. We maintain as our text doth, that "there shall be a
   resurrection of the dead, both of the just and unjust."

   A second proof, we think, we find in the translation of Enoch and
   Elijah to heaven. We read of two men who went to heaven in their
   bodies. Enoch "was not; for God took him;" and Elijah was carried to
   heaven in a chariot of fire. Neither of these men left his ashes in the
   grave: neither left his body to be consumed by the worm, but both of
   them in their mortal frames (changed and glorified doubtless) ascended
   up on high. Now, those two were the pledge to us that all of us shall
   rise in the same manner. Would it be likely that two bright spirits
   would sit in heaven clothed in flesh, while the rest of us were
   unclothed? Would it be at all reasonable that Enoch and Elijah should
   be the only saints who should have their bodies in heaven, and that we
   should be there only in our souls--poor souls! longing to have our
   bodies again. No; our faith tells us that these two men having safely
   gone to heaven, as John Bunyan hath it, by a bridge that no one else
   trod, by which they were not under the necessity to wade the river, we
   shall also rise from the flood, and our flesh shall not for ever dwell
   with corruption.

   There is a remarkable passage in Jude, where it speaks of Michael the
   Archangel contending with the devil about the body of Moses, and using
   no "railing accusation." Now, this refers to the great doctrine of
   angels watching over the bones of the saints. Certainly, it tells us
   that the body of Moses was watched over by a great archangel; the devil
   thought to disturb that body, but Michael contended with him about it.
   Now would there be a contention about that body if it had been of no
   value? Would Michael contend for that which was only to be the food of
   worms? Would he wrestle with the enemy for that which was to be
   scattered to the four winds of heaven, never to be united again into a
   new and goodlier fabric? No; assuredly not. From this we learn that an
   angel watches over every tomb. It is no fiction, when on the marble we
   carve the cherubs with their wings. There are cherubs with outstretched
   wings over the head of the grave-stones of all the righteous; ay, and
   where "the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep," in some nook
   o'ergrown by nettles, there an angel standeth night and day to watch
   each bone and guard each atom, that at the resurrection those bodies,
   with more glory than they had on earth, may start up to dwell for ever
   with the Lord. The guardianship of the bodies of the saints by angels
   proves that they shall rise again from the dead.

   Yet, further, the resurrections that have already taken place give us
   hope and confidence that there shall be a resurrection of all saints.
   Do you not remember that it is written, when Jesus rose from the dead
   many of the saints that were in their graves arose, and came into the
   city, and appeared unto many? Have ye not heard that Lazarus, though he
   had been dead three days, came from the grave at the word of Jesus?
   Have you never read how the daughter of Jarius awoke from the sleep of
   death when he said, "Talitha cumi?" Have you never seen him at the
   gates of Nain, bidding that widow's son rise from the bier? Have you
   forgotten that Dorcas who made garments for the poor, sat up and saw
   Peter after she had been dead? And do you not remember Eutychus who
   fell from the third loft and was taken up dead, but who, at the prayer
   of Paul, was raised again? Or, does not your memory roll back to the
   time when hoary Elijah stretched himself upon the dead child, and the
   child breathed, and sneezed seven times, and his soul came to him? Or
   have you not read that when they buried a man, as soon as he touched
   the prophet's bones he rose again to life? These are pledges of the
   resurrection; a few specimens, a few chance gems flung into the world
   to tell us how full God's hand is of resurrection jewels. He hath given
   us proof that he is able to raise the dead by the resurrection of a
   few, who afterwards were seen on earth by infallible witnesses.

   We must now, however, leave these things, and refer you once more to
   the Holy Spirit by way of confirming the doctrine that the saints'
   bodies shall rise again. The chapter in which you will find one great
   proof is in the First Epistle to the Corinthians, vi. 13: "Now the body
   is not for fornication, but for the Lord; and the Lord for the body."
   The body, then, is the Lord's. Christ died not only to save my soul,
   but to save my body. It is said he "came to seek and to save that which
   was lost." When Adam sinned he lost his body, and he lost his soul too;
   he was a lost man, lost altogether. And when Christ came to save his
   people, he came to save their bodies and their souls. "Now the body is
   not for fornication, but for the Lord." Is this body for the Lord, and
   shall death devour it? Is this body for the Lord, and shall winds
   scatter its particles far away where they never shall discover their
   fellows? No! the body is for the Lord, and the Lord shall have it. "And
   God hath both raised up the Lord, and will also raise us by his own
   power." Now look at the next verse: "Know ye not that your bodies are
   the members of Christ." Not merely is the soul a part of Christ--united
   to Christ, but the body is also. These hands, these feet, these eyes,
   are members of Christ, if I be a child of God. I am one with him, not
   merely as to my mind, but one with him as to this outward frame. The
   very body is taken into union. The golden chain which binds Christ to
   his people goes round the body and soul too. Did not the apostle say
   "they two shall be one flesh. This is a great mystery; but I speak
   concerning Christ and the Church?"--Ephesians v. 31, 32. "They are one
   flesh;" and Christ's people are not only one with him in spirit, but
   they are "one flesh" too. The flesh of man is united with the flesh of
   the God-man; and our bodies are members of Jesus Christ. Well, while
   the head lives the body cannot die; and while Jesus lives the members
   cannot perish. Further the Apostle says, in the 19th verse, "Know yet
   not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you,
   which ye have of God, and ye are not your own? For ye are bought with a
   price." This body he says, is the temple of the Holy Ghost; and where
   the Holy Ghost dwells in a body, he not only sanctifies it, but renders
   it eternal. The temple of the Holy Ghost is as eternal as the Holy
   Ghost. You may demolish other temples and their gods too, but the Holy
   Ghost cannot die, nor "can his temple perish." Shall this body which
   has once had the Holy Ghost in it be always food for worms? Shall it
   never be seen more, but be like the dry bones of the valley? No; the
   dry bones shall live, and the temple of the Holy Ghost shall be built
   up again. Though the legs, the pillars, of that temple fall--though the
   eyes, the windows of it be darkened, and those that look out of them
   see no more, yet God shall re-build this fabric, re-light the eyes, and
   restore its pillars and regild it with beauty, yea, "this mortal shall
   put on immortality, and this corruptible put on incorruption.

   But the master argument with which we close our proof is that Christ
   rose from the dead, and verily his people shall. The chapter which we
   read at the commencement of the service is proof to a demonstration
   that if Christ rose from the dead all his people must; that if there be
   no resurrection, then is Christ not risen. But I will not long dwell on
   this proof, because I know you all feel its power, and there is no need
   for me to bring it out clearly. As Christ actually rose from the
   dead--flesh and blood, so shall we. Christ was not a spirit when he
   rose from the dead; his body could be touched. Did not Thomas put his
   hand into his side? and did not Christ say, "Handle me, and see. A
   spirit hath not flesh and bones as ye see me have." And if we are to
   rise as Christ did--and we are taught so--then we shall rise in our
   bodies--not spirits, not fine aerial things, made of I know not
   what--some very refined and elastic substance; but "as the Lord our
   Saviour rose, so all his followers must." We shall rise in our flesh,
   "though all flesh is not the same flesh;" we shall rise in our bodies,
   though all bodies are not the same bodies; and we shall rise in glory,
   though all glories are not the same glories. "There is one flesh of man
   and another of beasts;" and there is one flesh of this body, and
   another flesh of the heavenly body. There is one body for the soul
   here, and another body for the spirit up there; and yet it shall be the
   same body that will rise again from the grave--the same I say in
   identity, though not in glory or in adaptation.

   I come now to some practical thoughts from this doctrine before I go to
   the other. My brethren, what thoughts of comfort there are in this
   doctrine, that the dead shall rise again. Some of us have this week
   been standing by the grave; and one of our brethren, who long served
   his Master in our midst, was placed in the tomb. He was a man valiant
   for truth, indefatigable in labour, self-denying in duty, and always
   prepared to follow his Lord (Mr. Turner, of Lamb and Flag School), and
   to the utmost of his ability, serviceable to the church. Now, there
   were tears shed there: do you know what they were about? There was not
   a solitary tear shed about his soul. The doctrine of the immortality of
   the soul was not required to give us comfort, for we knew it well, we
   were perfectly assured that he had ascended to heaven. The burial
   service used in the Church of England most wisely offers us no comfort
   concerning the soul of the departed believer, since that is in bliss,
   but it cheers us by reminding us of the promised resurrection for the
   body; and when I speak concerning the dead, it is not to give comfort
   as to the soul, but as to the body. And this doctrine of the
   resurrection has comfort for the mourners in regard to the buried
   mortality. You do not weep because your father, brother, wife, husband,
   has ascended to heaven--you would be cruel to weep about that. None of
   you weep because your dear mother is before the throne; but you weep
   because her body is in the grave, because those eyes can no more smile
   on you, because those hands cannot caress you, because those sweet lips
   cannot speak melodious notes of affection. You weep because the body is
   cold, and dead, and clay-like; for the soul you do not weep. But I have
   comfort for you. That very body will rise again; that eye will flash
   with genius again; that hand will be held out in affection once more.
   Believe me, I am speaking no fiction. That very hand, that positive
   hand, those cold, clay-like arms that hung down by the side and fell
   when you uplifted them, shall hold a harp one day; and those poor
   fingers, now icy and hard, shall be swept along the living strings of
   golden harps in heaven. Yea, you shall see that body once more.

   "Their inbred sins require

   Their flesh to see the dust,

   But as the Lord their Saviour rose,

   So all his followers must."

   Will not that remove your tears. "He is not dead, but sleepeth." He is
   not lost, he is "seed sown against harvest time to ripen." His body is
   resting a little while, bathing itself in spices, that it may be fit
   for the embraces of its Lord.

   And here is comfort for you too, you poor sufferers, who suffer in your
   bodies. Some of you are almost martyrs with aches of one kind and
   another--lumbagoes, gouts, rheumatisms, and all sorts of sad
   afflictions that flesh is heir to. Scarcely a day passes but you are
   tormented with some suffering or other; and if you were silly enough to
   be always doctoring yourselves, you might always be having the doctor
   in your home. Here is comfort for you. That poor old rickety body of
   yours will live again without its pains, without its agonies; that poor
   shaky frame will be repaid all it has suffered. Ah! poor negro slave,
   every scar upon your back shall have a stripe of honor in heaven. Ah!
   poor martyr, the crackling of thy bones in the fire shall earn thee
   sonnets in glory; all thy sufferings shall be well repaid by the
   happiness thou shalt experience there. Don't fear to suffer in your
   frame, because your frame will one day share in your delights. Every
   nerve will thrill with delight, every muscle move with bliss; your eyes
   will flash with the fire of eternity; your heart will beat and pulsate
   with immortal blessedness; your frame shall be the channel of
   beatitude; the body which is now often a cup of wormwood will be a
   vessel of honey; this body which is often a comb out of which gall
   distilleth, shall be a honeycomb of blessedness to you. Comfort
   yourselves then, ye sufferers, weary languishers upon the bed: fear
   not, your bodies shall live.

   But I want to draw a word of instruction from the text, concerning the
   doctrine of recognition. Many have puzzled themselves a to whether they
   will know their friends in heaven. Well now, if the bodies are to rise
   from the dead, I see no reason why we should not know them. I think I
   should know some of my brethren, even by their spirits, for I know
   their character so well, having talked with them of the things of
   Jesus, and being well acquainted with the most prominent parts of their
   character. But I shall see their bodies too. I always thought that a
   quietus to the question, which the wife of old John Ryland asked. "Do
   you think," she said, "you will know me in heaven?" "Why," said he, "I
   know you here; and do you think I shall be a bigger fool in heaven than
   I am on earth?" The question is beyond dispute. We shall live in heaven
   with bodies, and that decides the matter. We shall know each other in
   heaven; you may take that as a positive fact, and not mere fancy.

   But now a word of warning, and then I have done with this part of the
   subject. If your bodies are to dwell in heaven, I beseech you take care
   of them. I do not mean, take care of what you eat and rink, and
   wherewithal you shall be clothed; but I mean, take care that you do not
   let your bodies be polluted by sin. If this throat is to warble for
   ever with songs of glory, let not words of lust defile it. If these
   eyes are to see the king in his beauty, even let this be your prayer,
   "Turn off my eyes from beholding vanities." If these hands are to hold
   a palm branch, oh, let them never take a bribe, let them never seek
   after evil. If these feet are to walk the golden streets, let them not
   be swift after mischief. If this tongue is for ever to talk of all he
   said and did, ah! let it not utter light and frothy things. And if this
   heart is to pulsate for ever with bliss, I beseech you give it not unto
   strangers; neither let it wander after evil. If this body is to live
   for ever, what care we ought to take of it; for our bodies are temples
   of the Holy Ghost, and they are members of the Lord Jesus.

   Now, will you believe this doctrine or not? If you will not, you are
   excommunicate from the faith. This is the faith of the Gospel; and if
   you do not believe it you have not yet received the Gospel. "For if the
   dead rise not, then your faith is vain, and ye are yet in your sins."
   The dead in Christ shall rise, and they shall rise first.

   II. But now we come to the RESURRECTION OF THE WICKED. Will the wicked
   rise too? Here is a point of controversy. I shall have some hard things
   to say now: I may detain you long, but I beg you, nevertheless, hearken
   to me. Yea, the wicked shall rise.

   The first proof is given in the 2nd Epistle to the Corinthians, ch. v.
   10. "We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that every
   one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath
   done, whether it be good or bad." Now, since we are all to appear, the
   wicked must appear, and they will receive the deeds done in the body.
   Since the body sins, it is only natural that the body should be
   punished. It would be unjust to punish the soul and not the body, for
   the body has had as much to do with sin as ever the soul has had. But
   wherever I go now, I hear it said, "The ministers in old times were
   wont to say there was fire in hell for our bodies, but it is not so; it
   is metaphorical fire, fancied fire." Ah! it is not so. Ye shall receive
   the things done in your body. Though your souls shall be punished, your
   bodies will be punished as well. Ye who are sensual and devilish, do
   not care about your souls being punished, because you never think about
   your souls; but if I tell you of bodily punishment you will think of it
   far more. Christ may have said that the soul should be punished; but he
   far more frequently described the body in misery in order to impress
   his hearers, for he knew that they were sensual and devilish, and that
   nothing that did not affect the body would touch them in the least. "We
   must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, to receive the
   things done in the body according to what we have done, whether it be
   good or evil."

   But this is not the only text to prove the doctrine, I will give you a
   better one--Matt. v. 29. "If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out,
   and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy
   members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into
   hell."--not "thy whole soul," but "thy whole body." Man, this does not
   say that thy soul shall be in hell--that is affirmed many times--but it
   positively declares that thy body shall. That same body which is now
   standing in the aisle, or sitting in the pew, if thou diest without
   Christ, shall burn for ever in the flames of hell. It is not a fancy of
   man, but a truth that thy actual flesh and blood, and those very bones
   shall suffer: "thy whole body shall be cast into hell."

   But lest that one proof should not suffice thee, hear another out of
   the same gospel--chapter 10:28. "Fear not them which kill the body, but
   are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear him which is able to
   destroy both soul and body in hell." Hell will be the place for bodies
   as well as for souls. As I have remarked, wherever Christ speaks of
   hell and of the lost state of the wicked, he always speaks of their
   bodies; you scarcely find him saying anything about their souls. He
   says, "Where their worm dieth not," which is a figure of physical
   suffering--the worm torturing for ever the inmost heart, like a cancer
   within the very soul. He speaks of the "fire that never shall be
   quenched." Now, do not begin telling me that this is metaphorical fire:
   who cares for that? If a man were to threaten to give me a metaphorical
   blow on the head, I should care very little about it; he would be
   welcome to give me as many as he pleased. And what say the wicked? "We
   do not care about metaphorical fires." But they are real, sir--yes, as
   real as yourself. There is a real fire in hell, as truly as you have
   now a real body--a fire exactly like that which we have on earth in
   everything except this--that it will not consume, though it will
   torture you. You have seen the asbestos lying in the fire red hot, but
   when you take it out it is unconsumed. So your body will be prepared by
   God in such a way that it will burn for ever without being consumed; it
   will lie, not as you consider, in a metaphorical fire, but in actual
   flame. Did our Saviour mean fictions when he said he would cast body
   and soul into hell? What should there be a pit for if there were no
   bodies? Why fire, why chains, if there were to be no bodies? Can fire
   touch the soul? Can pits shut in spirits? Can chains fetter souls? No;
   pits and fire and chains are for bodies, and bodies shall be there.
   Thou wilt sleep in the dust a little while. When thou diest thy soul
   will be tormented alone--that will be a hell for it--but at the day of
   judgment thy body will join thy soul, and then thou wilt have twin
   hells, body and soul shall be together, each brimfull of pain, thy soul
   sweating in its inmost pore drops of blood, and thy body from head to
   foot suffused with agony; conscience, judgment, memory, all tortured,
   but more--thy head tormented with racking pains, thine eyes starting
   from their sockets with sights of blood and woe; thine ears tormented
   with

   "Sullen moans and hollow groans.

   And shrieks of tortured ghosts."

   Thine heart beating high with fever; thy pulse rattling at an enormous
   rate in agony; thy limbs crackling like the martyrs in the fire, and
   yet unburnt; thyself, put in a vessel of hot oil, pained, yet coming
   out undestroyed; all thy veins becoming a road for the hot feet of pain
   to travel on; every nerve a string on which the devil shall ever play
   his diabolical tune of Hell's Unutterable Lament; thy soul for ever and
   ever aching, and thy body palpitating in unison with thy soul.
   Fictions, sir! Again, I say, they are no fictions, and as God liveth,
   but solid, stern truth. If God be true, and this Bible be true, what I
   have said is the truth, and you will find it one day to be so.

   But now I must have a little reasoning with the ungodly on one or two
   points. First, I will reason with such of you as are very proud of your
   comely bodies, and array yourselves in goodly ornaments, and make
   yourselves glorious in your apparel. There are some of you who have no
   time for prayer, but you have time enough for your toilet; you have no
   time for the prayer-meeting, but you have time enough to be brushing
   your hair to all eternity; you have no time to bend your knee, but
   plenty of time to make yourselves look smart and grand. Ah! fine lady,
   thou who takest care of thy goodly fashioned face, remember what was
   said by one of old when he held up the skull:

   "Tell her, though she paint herself an inch thick,

   To this complexion she must come at last."

   And something more than that: that fair face shall be scarred with the
   claws of fiends, and that fine body shall be only the medium for
   torment. Ah! dress thyself proud gentleman for the worm; anoint thyself
   for the crawling creatures of the grave; and worse, come thou to hell
   with powdered hair--a gentleman in hell; come thou down to the pit in
   goodly apparel; my lord, come there, to find yourself no higher than
   others, except it be higher in torture, and plunged deeper in flames.
   Ay, it ill becomes us to waste so much time upon the trifling things
   here, when there is so much to be done, and so little time for doing
   it, in the saving of men's souls. O God, our God, deliver men from
   feasting and pampering their bodies when they are only fattening them
   for the slaughter, and feeding them to be devoured in the flame.

   Again, hear me when I say to you who are gratifying your lusts-do you
   know that those bodies, the lusts of which you gratify here, will be in
   hell, and that you will have the same lusts in hell that you have here?
   The debauchee hastes to indulge his body in what he desires--can he do
   that in hell? Can he find a place there where he shall gratify his lust
   and find indulgence for his foul desire? The drunkard here can pour
   down his throat the intoxicating and deadly draught; but where will he
   find the liquor to drink in hell, when his drunkenness will be as hot
   upon him as it is here! Ay, where will he find so much as a drop of
   water to cool his parched tongue? The man who loves gluttony here will
   be a glutton there; but where will be the food to satisfy him, when he
   may hold his finger up and see the loaves go away from him, and the
   fruits refuse his grasp. Oh! to have your passions and yet not to
   satisfy them! To shut a drunkard up in his cell, and give him nothing
   to drink! He would dash himself against the wall to get the liquor, but
   there is none for him. What wilt thou do in hell, O drunkard, with that
   thirst in thy throat, and having nought but flames to swallow, which
   increase thy woe? And what wilt thou do, O rake, when still thou
   wouldst be seducing others, but there are none with whom thou canst
   sin? Do I speak plainly? Did not Christ do so? If men will sin, they
   shall find men who are not ashamed to reprove them. Ah! to have a body
   in hell, with all its lusts, but not the power to satisfy them! How
   horrible that hell will be!

   But hear me yet again. Oh! poor sinner, if I saw thee going into the
   inquisitor's den to be tormented, would I not beg of thee to stop ere
   thou shouldst put thy foot upon the threshold? And now I am talking to
   you of things that are real. If I were standing on a stage this
   morning, and were acting these things as fancies, I would make you
   weep: I would make the godly weep to think that so many should be
   damned, and I would make the ungodly weep to think that they should be
   damned. But when I speak of realities, they do not move you half as
   much as fictions would, and ye sit just as ye did ere the service had
   commenced. But hear me while I again affirm God's truth. I tell thee
   sinner, that those eyes that now look on lust shall look on miseries
   that shall vex and torment thee. Those ears which now thou lendest to
   hear the song of blasphemy, shall hear moans, and groans, and horrid
   sounds, such as only the damned know. That very throat down which thou
   pourest drink shall be filled with fire. Those very lips and arms of
   thine will be tortured all at once. Why, if thou hast a headache thou
   wilt run to thy physician; but what wilt thou do when thy head, and
   heart, and hands, and feet ache all at once? If thou hast but a pain in
   thy reins, thou wilt search out medicines to heal thee; but what wilt
   thou do when gout, and rheum, and vertigo, and all else that is vile
   attack thy body at once? How wilt thou bear thyself when thou shalt be
   loathsome with every kind of disease, leprous, palsied, black, rotten,
   thy bones aching, thy marrow quivering, every limb thou hast filled
   with pain; thy body a temple of demons, and a channel of miseries. And
   will ye march blindly on? As the ox goeth to the slaughter, and the
   sheep licketh the butcher's knife, so is it with many of you. Sirs, you
   are living without Christ, many of you; you are self-righteous and
   ungodly. One of you is going out this afternoon to take his day's
   pleasure; another is a fornicator in secret; another can cheat his
   neighbour; another can now and then curse God; another comes to this
   chapel, but in secret he is a drunkard; another prates about godliness,
   and God wots he is a wretched hypocrite. What will ye do in that day
   when ye stand before your Maker? It is a little thing to have your
   minister upbraid you know; it is a small thing to be judged of man's
   judgment; what will ye do when God shall thunder out not your
   accusation, but your condemnation, "Depart ye cursed, into everlasting
   fire, prepared for the devil and his angels?" Ah! sensual ones, I knew
   I should never move you will I spoke about torments for your souls. Do
   I move you now? Ah no! Many of you will go away and laugh, and call me,
   as I remember once being called before, "a hell-fire parson." Well, go;
   but you will see the hell-fire preacher one day in heaven, perhaps, and
   you yourselves will be cast out; and looking down thence with reproving
   glance, it may be, I shall remind you that you heard the word, and
   listened not to it. Ah! men, it is a light thing to hear it; it will be
   hard enough to bear it. You listen to me now unmoved; it will be harder
   work when death gets hold of you and you lie roasting in the fire. Now
   you despise Christ; you will not despise him them. Now ye can waste
   your Sabbaths; then ye would give a thousand worlds for a Sabbath if ye
   could but have it in hell. Now ye can scoff and jeer; there will be no
   scoffing or jeering then: you will be shrieking, howling, wailing for
   mercy; but--

   "There are no acts of pardon passed

   In the cold grave to which we haste;

   But darkness, death, and long despair,

   Reign in eternal silence there."

   O my hearers! the wrath to come! the wrath to come! the wrath to come.
   Who among you can dwell with devouring fire? Who among you can dwell
   with everlasting burnings? Can you, sir? can you? Can you abide the
   flame for ever? "Oh, no," sayest thou, "what can I do to be saved?"
   Hear thou what Christ hath to say, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,
   and thou shalt be saved." "He that believeth, and is baptized, shall be
   saved; he that believeth not shall be damned." "Come, now let us reason
   together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be
   as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as
   wool."

   1 Corinthians 15

   There were people in the Apostles' days who had an idea that there was
   no resurrection. Paul endeavours torefute the idea, and teaches the
   Corinthians that there was a resurrection from the dead. From the 1st
   to the 11th verse he proves the resurrection of Jesus Christ, and upon
   that grounds the doctrine of the resurrection of the just.

   "Moreover, brethren, I declare unto you the gospel which I preached
   unto you, which also ye received, and wherein ye stand:

   "By which also ye are saved, if ye keep in memory what I preached unto
   you, unless ye have believed in vain."

   Now, we expect to hear a whole list of doctrines when the apostle says
   "I declare unto you the gospel;" but instead of that, he simply tells
   us of the resurrection of Jesus, for that is the very marrow of the
   gospel, the foundation of it--that Jesus Christ died and rose again the
   third day, according to the Scriptures.

   "For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how
   that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures."

   "And that he was buried, and that he rose again the third day according
   to the scriptures."

   That is the whole of the gospel. He who perfectly understands that,
   understands the first principles; he has commenced aright. This is the
   starting point if we wish to learn the truth, "that Christ died for our
   sins according to the Scriptures; and that he was buried, and that he
   rose again the third day according to the Scriptures."

   "And that he was seen of Cephas, then of the twelve.

   After that he was seen of above five hundred brethren at once; of whom
   the greater part remain unto this present, but some are fallen asleep.

   After that he was seen of James; then of all the apostles.

   And last of all he was seen of me also, as of one born out of due
   time."

   The resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead is one of the best
   attested facts on record. There were so many witnesses to behold it,
   that if we do in the least degree receive the credibility of men's
   testimonies, we cannot and we dare not doubt that Jesus rose from the
   dead. It is all very easy for infidels to say that these persons were
   deceived, but it is equally foolish, for these persons could not every
   one of them have been so positively deceived as to say that they had
   seen this man, whom they knew to have been dead, afterwards alive; they
   could not all, surely, have agreed together to help on this imposture:
   if they did, it is the most marvellous thing we have on record, that
   not one of them ever broke faith with the others, but that the whole
   mass of them remained firm. We believe it to be quite impossible that
   so many rogues should have agreed for ever. They were men who had
   nothing to gain by it; they subjected themselves to persecution by
   affirming the very fact; they were ready to die for it, and did die for
   it. Five hundred or a thousand persons who had seen him at different
   times, declared that they did see him, and that he rose from the dead;
   the fact of his death having been attested beforehand. How, then, dare
   any man say that the Christian religion is not true, when we know for a
   certainty that Christ died and rose again from the dead? And knowing
   that, who shall deny the divinity of the Saviour? Who shall say that he
   is not mighty to save? Our faith hath a solid basis, for it hath all
   these witnesses on which to rest, and the more sure witness of the Holy
   Spirit witnessing in our hearts. "And last of all," says the apostle,
   "he was seen of me also, as of one born out of due time: for I am the
   least of the apostles." We should not have thought Paul proud if he had
   said, "I am the greatest of the apostles," for he occupies the largest
   portion of the sacred Scriptures with his writings; and he preached
   more abundantly than they all. There was not one who could exceed Paul,
   or even come near him in his arduous labours; yet he says,

   "For I am the least of the apostles, that am not meet to be called an
   apostle, because I persecuted the Church of God."

   When he looked upon the mercies that God gave to him he always
   recollected how little he deserved; and when he found himself
   preaching, oh! with what pathos did he preach to the ungodly, for he
   could always close up:--"But I obtained mercy, that in me first Christ
   might show forth all long-suffering as a pattern to them that believe."
   Have I a persecutor here? Let him know that his sin is a most damnable
   sin that will sink him lower into hell than any other; but even for him
   there is mercy, and abundant pardon; for Paul says he obtained mercy
   even though he persecuted the church of God.

   "But by the grace of God I am what I am: and his grace which was
   bestowed upon me was not in vain; but I laboured more abundantly than
   they all: yet not I, but the grace of God which was with me."

   "Therefore whether it were I or they, so we preach, and so ye
   believed."

   "But by the grace of God I am what I am." That is about as far as most
   of us can get; we shall never get any further. "By the grace of God I
   am what I am, and his grace which was bestowed upon me was not in vain;
   but I laboured more abundantly than they all." Then he stops himself:
   "Yet, not I, but the grace of God which was with me." We should always
   take care that we do not take any of our good works to ourselves: they
   are the effects of grace within us. If we once get putting the crown on
   our own heads we shall soon have heavy heads for our trouble; but if we
   put them all on the head of Jesus, he will honour us if we honour him.

   Having thus proved the resurrection of Christ, he goes on:

   "Now if Christ be preached that he rose from the dead, how say some
   among you that there is no resurrection of the dead?

   "But if there be no resurrection of the dead, then is Christ not risen!
   
   "And if Christ be not risen, then is our preaching vain, and your faith
   is also vain.

   "Yea, and we are found false witnesses of God; because we have
   testified of God that he raised up Christ: whom he raised not up, if so
   be that the dead rise not.

   "For if the dead rise not, then is not Christ raised:

   "And if Christ be not raised, your faith is vain; ye are yet in your
   sins:",

   Perhaps it does not strike you at first sight that there is an
   indissoluble connection between the resurrection of Christ and that of
   all his people; perhaps you do not see the marrow of the argument. The
   apostle says, "If the dead do not rise, then Christ did not rise; and
   if Christ did rise, then all the dead will rise." Do you see how it is?
   Why, because Christ and human nature are now so linked together that
   what Christ did, he did as the representative of all his people. When
   Adam sinned, the world sinned, and the world died. "As in Adam all die,
   so in Christ shall all be made alive." Christ could not rise except as
   the representative of his people; and "if Christ rose," says Paul,
   "then his people will rise; and if he did not rise then we shall not
   rise, because we are one with him; and if we do not rise Christ did not
   rise, because we are one with him." See here a connection which cannot
   be broken,--that if Christ rose, then must the dead rise also. This
   brings another argument

   "Then they also which are fallen asleep in Christ are perished."

   How do you like that thought?

   "If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most
   miserable."

   For they were then persecuted, cast to the wild beasts, shut up in
   prison; and if this life were all, what would be the value of the
   Christian religion? If would only make men miserable.

   "But now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the first-fruits of
   them that slept.

   "For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the
   dead.

   "For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive."

   It is no use for the Arminian to strain this, and say that it proves
   that every one receives grace through Christ. It says no such thing; it
   simply says, "die" and "live." Everybody shall live at the
   resurrection.

   "But every man in his own order: Christ the first-fruits: afterward
   they that are Christ's at his coming.

   "Then cometh the end, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to
   God, even the Father; when he shall have put down all rule and all
   authority and power.

   "For he must reign, till he hath put all enemies under his feet.

   "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death."

   Here the great proof flashes out--if death is to be destroyed, then
   there must be a resurrection, for death cannot be destroyed until the
   very bones of the saints are delivered from the strongholds of the
   enemy.

   "For he hath put all things under his feet. But when he saith, All
   things are put under him, it is manifest that he is excepted, which did
   put all things under him.

   "And when all things shall be subdued unto him, then shall the Son also
   himself be subject unto him that put all things under him, that God may
   be all in all."

   We are not to suppose, when we read that Jesus Christ will deliver up
   his kingdom to God, even to his Father, that he will therefore cease to
   be God or cease to be a King. Understand this; God the Father gave to
   the Son a Mediatorial Kingdom as Man-God; but the Father was just as
   much God when he had given him that kingdom; it was his own special
   kingdom which he, as the Man-God Mediator was to take, and God the
   Father lost no glory by giving it to him. When Christ shall have worked
   out all his Mediatorial purposes, when he shall have finished the
   salvation of all his elect, he will lay the crown of his Mediatorial
   Kingdom at the feet of God, and, as the Man-Mediator, he too will be
   subject unto the great Jehovah, the Three-one; then there will be no
   Mediator any longer, since there will be no necessity for any
   mediation, but we shall all be gathered in one, even the things that
   are on earth and the things that are in heaven--one in Christ Jesus.
   Then Christ will have his kingdom as God, but as Mediator he will have
   no kingdom. It is a destruction of office, not of person, nor yet of
   honor; it is a laying aside of his official capacity, not in any degree
   a diminution of his glory and honor.

   "Else what shall they do who are baptized for the dead, if the dead
   rise not at all? why are they then baptized for the dead?"

   This text has had thirty or forty explanations. Doddridge and a great
   many more think it refers to the practice, when a martyr died, for
   another person to come forward and fill the offices which he held, and
   so to be "baptized for the dead;" but the meaning I like best is: What
   shall they do who are baptized with the certainty that they are not
   baptized to live a long while, but that immediately after baptism they
   will be dragged away to die--baptized in the very teeth of death? For
   as soon as any one was baptised, the Romans would be looking after him,
   to drag him away to death. Thus they were many of them baptised as if
   they were being washed for their burial, and dedicating themselves to
   the grave. They came forward and said, "O Lord, I give myself unto thy
   service--not to serve thee here below, for that the enemy will not let
   me do, but since I must die, I will be baptized and brave it all; I
   will be baptized even for death itself." Well, what shall these do who
   are baptized in the certain prospect of death if the dead rise not?
   "Why are they then baptized for the dead?"

   "And why stand in jeopardy every hour?

   "I protest by your rejoicing which I have in Christ Jesus our Lord, I
   die daily.

   "If after the manner of men I have fought with beasts at Ephesus, what
   advantageth it me, if the dead rise not? let us eat and drink; for
   to-morrow we die."

   It does not say that Paul did fight with beasts at Ephesus; but a great
   many others did. It was a common practice to put Christians to the
   lions, giving them a short sword, and bidding them fight for their
   lives; and sometimes, strengthened by God, they fought manfully, and
   come off alive. But "if," says Paul, "I have fought with beasts at
   Ephesus, what advantageth it me, if the dead rise not?" I might as well
   give up my religion; then I could lie down and be at peace. "Let us eat
   and drink; for to morrow we die." Oh! wicked Paul! to quote from a
   heathen poet! How disgraceful. If I were to repeat a verse, and it
   looked as if Shakespere or any profane author ever wrote such a thing,
   how criminal! say you. But I like good things wherever I find them. I
   have often quoted from the devil, and I dare say I shall often quote
   from his people. Paul quoted this from Meander, and another heathen
   poet, who wrote far worse things than have been written by modern
   poets, and if any of us who may have stored our minds with the contents
   of books we wish we had never read, and if there be some choice gems in
   them which may be used for the service of God, by his help we will so
   use them.

   "Be not deceived: evil communications corrupt good manners.

   "In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the
   trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we
   shall be changed."

   Christ is coming, and he will find some alive on the earth, and those
   who are alive will not die. Paul was so full of the Second Coming, that
   he says: "We shall not all sleep." He did not know but what Christ
   might come while he was writing the letter. And we are so earnestly
   looking for Christ, that we too are constrained to say, "We shall not
   all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling
   of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead
   shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed."

   "For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must
   put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is
   written, Death is swallowed up in victory.

   "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?

   "The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law.

   "But thanks be to God which giveth us the victory through our Lord
   Jesus Christ."

   What a shame it is, when we sometimes attend a funeral and hear that
   magnificent portion of Scripture read over by a chaplain without heart,
   or soul, or life--the quicker he can get through the service the
   better. Oh that such noble words should be so awfully spoiled by men
   who know nothing about them!

   "Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always
   abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labor
   is not in vain in the Lord."

   Just Published, Price Twopence, "Come, ye Children," a Sermon addressed
   to Sunday School Teachers, by the Rev. C. H. SPURGEON, preached on
   behalf of the Western Kent Sunday School Union, at the "Temple," Saint
   Mary Cray, Kent, on Wednesday Afternoon, February 20th, 1856.
     __________________________________________________________________

                       A Solemn Warning for All Churches

   A Sermon

   (No. 68)

   Delivered on Sabbath Morning, February 24, 1856, by the

   REV. C.H. SPURGEON

   At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

   "Thou hast a few names even in Sardis which have not defiled their
   garments; and they shall walk with me in white; for they are
   worthy."--Revelation 3:4.

   MY LEARNED and eminently pious predecessor, Dr. Gill, is of opinion
   that the different churches spoken of in the Book of Revelation are
   types of different states through which the church of God shall pass
   until it comes into the Philadelphia state, the state of love, in which
   Jesus Christ shall reign in its midst, and afterwards, as he thinks,
   shall pass into the state of Laodicea, in which condition it shall be
   when suddenly the Son of Man shall come to judge the world in
   righteousness and the people in equity. I do not go with him in all his
   suppositions with regard to these seven churches as following each
   other in seven periods of time; but I do think he was correct when he
   declared that the church in Sardis was a most fitting emblem of the
   church in his days, as also in these. The good old doctor says, "When
   we shall find any period in which the church was more like the state of
   Sardis as described here, than it is now?" And he points out the
   different particulars in which the church of his day (and I am sure it
   is yet more true of the church at the present day) was exactly like the
   church in Sardis. I shall use the church in Sardis as a figure of what
   I conceive to be the sad condition of Christendom at the present
   moment. My first point will be general defilement--there were but "a
   few names" in Sardis who had not "defiled their garments;" secondly,
   special preservation--there were a few who had not defiled their
   garments; and thirdly, a peculiar reward--"And they shall walk with me
   in white; for they are worthy."

   I. GENERAL DEFILEMENT. The holy apostle, John, said of the church in
   Sardis, "These things saith he that hath the Seven Spirits of God, and
   the seven stars; I know thy works, that thou has a name that thou
   livest, and art dead. Be watchful, and strengthen the things which
   remain, that are ready to die; for I have not found thy works perfect
   before God. Remember therefore how thou has received and heard, and
   hold fast and repent. If therefore thou shalt not watch, I will come on
   thee as a thief, and thou shalt not know what hour I will come upon
   thee. Thou hast a few names even in Sardis which have not defiled their
   garments."

   The first charge of general defilement he brings against the church in
   Sardis was that they had a vast deal of open profession, and but little
   of sincere religion. "I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou
   livest, and art dead." That is the crying sin of the present age. I am
   not inclined to be morbid in my temperament, or to take a melancholy
   view of the church of God. I would wish at all times to exhibit a
   liberality of spirit, and to speak as well as I can of the church at
   large; but God forbid that any minister should shrink from declaring
   what he believes to be the truth. In going up and down this land, I am
   obliged to come to this conclusion, that throughout the churches there
   are multitudes who have "a name to live, and are dead." Religion has
   become fashionable. The shopkeeper could scarcely succeed in a
   respectable business if he were not united with a church. It is
   reckoned to be reputable and honorable to attend a place of worship;
   and hence men are made religious in shoals. And especially now that
   parliament itself doth in some measure sanction religion, we may expect
   that hypocrisy will abound yet more and more, and formality everywhere
   take the place of true religion. You can scarcely meet with a man who
   does not call himself a Christian, and yet it is equally hard to meet
   with one who is in the very marrow of his bones thoroughly sanctified
   to the good work of the kingdom of heaven. We meet with professors by
   hundreds; but me must expect still to meet with possessors by units.
   The whole nation appears to have been Christianized in an hour. But is
   this real? Is this sincere? Ah! we fear not. How is it that professors
   can live like other men? How is it that there is so little distinction
   between the church and the world? Or, that if there is any difference,
   you are frequently safer in dealing with an ungodly man than with one
   who is professedly righteous? How is it that men who make high
   professions can live in worldly conformity, indulge in the same
   pleasures, live in the same style, act from the same motives, deal in
   the same manner as other do? Are not these days when the sons of God
   have made affinity with the sons of men? And may be not fear that
   something terrible may yet occur unless God shall send a voice, which
   shall say, "Come out of them, my people, lest ye be partakers of their
   plagues?" Take our churches at large--there is no lack of names, but
   there is a lack of life. Else, how is it that our prayer-meetings are
   so badly attended? Where is the zeal or the energy shown by the
   apostles? Where is the Spirit of the living God? Is he not departed?
   Might not "Ichabod" be written on the walls of many a sanctuary? They
   have a name to live, , but are dead. They have their piety? Where is
   sincere religion? Where is practical godliness? Where is firm,
   decisive, puritanical piety? Thank God, there are a few names even in
   Sardis which have not defiled their garments; but charity itself will
   not allow us to say that the church generally possesses the Spirit of
   God.

   Then the next charge was, that there was a want of zeal throughout the
   church of Sardis. He says, "Be watchful." He looked on the church and
   saw the bishops slumbering, the elders slumbering, and the people
   slumbering; they were not, as once they were, watchful for the faith,
   striving together and earnestly contending for it, not wrestling
   against the enemy of souls, labouring to spread their Master's kingdom,
   but the apostle saw sleepiness, coldness, lethargy; therefore he said,
   "Be watchful." Oh! John, if from thy grave thou couldst start up, and
   see the church as thou didst at Sardis, having thine eyes anointed by
   the Spirit, thou wouldst say it is even so now. Ah! we have abundance
   of cold, calculating Christians, multitudes of professors; but where
   are the zealous ones? where are the leaders of the children of God?
   where are your heroes who stand in the day of battle? where are your
   men who "count not their lives dear unto them," that they might win
   Christ, and be found in him? where are those who have an impassioned
   love for souls? How many of our pulpits are filled by earnest,
   enthusiastic preachers? Alas! look, at the church. She has builded
   herself fine palaces, imitating popery; she hath girded herself with
   vestments; she has gone astray from her simplicity; but she has lost
   the fire and the life which she once had. We go into our chapels now,
   and we see everything in good taste: we hear the organ play; the
   psalmody is in keeping with the most correct ear; the gown and the
   noble vestments are there, and everything is grand and goodly, and we
   think that God is honored. Oh for the days when Whitfields would preach
   on tubs once more, when their pulpits should be on Kennington Common,
   and their roofs the ceiling of God's sky. Oh for the time when we might
   preach in barns again, or in catacombs either, if we might but have the
   life of God that once they had in such places. What is the use of
   garnishing the shell when you have lost the kernel. Go and whitewash,
   for the life is gone. Garnish the outside of your cups and platters;
   but ye have lost the pure word of God. Ye have it not for a piece of
   bread; they flinch to speak the whole truth, or if they seem to speak
   it, it is with cold, meaningless, passionless words, as if it were
   nothing whether souls were damned or saved, whether heaven were filled
   or heaven depopulated, or whether Christ should see of the travail of
   his would and be satisfied. Do I speak fierce things? I can say as
   Irving once did, I might deserve to be broken on the wheel if I did not
   believe what I say to be the truth; for the utterance of such things I
   might deserve the stake; but God is my witness, I have endeavoured to
   judge and to speak impartially. With all that universal cant of charity
   now so prevalent I am at arm's length; I care not for it. Let us speak
   of things as we find them. WE do believe that the church has lost her
   zeal and her energy. But what do men say of us? "Oh! you are too
   excited." Good God! excited! when men are being damned; Excited! When
   we have the mission of heaven to preach to dying souls. EXCITED!
   preaching too much! when souls are lost. Why should it come to pass
   that one man should be perpetually labouring all the week, while others
   are lolling upon their couches, and preach only upon the Sabbath-day?
   Can I bear to see the laziness, the slothfulness, the indifference of
   ministers, and of churches, without speaking. No! there must be a
   protest entered, and we enter it now. Oh! Church of God, thou has a
   name to live, and art dead; thou art not watchful. Awake! awake! arise
   from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.

   The third charge which John brought against Sardis was that they did
   not "look to the things that remained and were ready to die." I take it
   that this may related to the poor feeble saints, the true children of
   God, who were sorrowing, mourning, and groaning in their midst, who
   were so oppressed with sorrow on account of the state of Sardis, that
   they were "ready to die." And what does the church do now? Do the
   shepherds go after those that are wounded and sick, and those that are
   weary? Do they carry the lambs in their bosom, and gently lead those
   that are with young? Do they see to poor distressed consciences, and
   speak to those who feel their deadness in trespasses and sins? Yes, but
   how do they speak? They tell them to do things they cannot do--to
   perform impossible duties--instead of "strengthening the things that
   remain and are ready to die" In how much contempt are the truly
   new-born children of God held in these times! They are called peculiar
   men, scouted as Antinomians, hissed at as being oddities, high doctrine
   men who have departed from the usual mode of pulling down God's word to
   men's fancies; they are called bigots, narrow-minded souls, and their
   creed is set down as dry, hard, rough, severe Calvinism. God's gospel
   called hard, rough, and severe! The things for which our fathers died
   are not called infamous things! Mark whether, if ye stand out
   prominently in the truth, you will not be abhorred and scouted. If you
   go into a village, and hear of poor people who are said to be doing a
   deal of mischief, are they not the people who understand most of the
   gospel? Go and ask the minister who are the persons that he most
   dislikes? and he will say, "We have a nasty lot of Antinomians here."
   What does he mean by that? Men who love the truth, the whole truth, and
   nothing but the truth, and will have it, and are therefore called a
   nasty set of Antinomians. Ah! we have lost what once we had. We do not
   now "strengthen the things that remain and are ready to die;" they are
   not looked after as they ought to be, not beloved, not fostered. The
   salt of the earth are now the offscouring of all things; men whom God
   has loved, and who have attained a high standing in godliness--these
   are the men who will not bow the knee to Baal, and who therefore are
   cast into the fiery furnace of persecution and slander. O Sardis!
   Sardis! I see thee now. Thou hast defiled thy garments. Thank God,
   there are a few who have not followed the multitude to do evil, and who
   shall "walk in white, for they are worthy."

   Another charge which God has brought against the church is, that they
   were careless about the things which they heard. He says, "Remember,
   therefore, how thou hast received and heard, and hold fast; and
   repent." If I am wrong upon other points, I am positive that the sin of
   this age is impurity of doctrine, and laxity of faith. Now you know you
   are told every Sunday that it does not signify what you believe; that
   all sects and denominations will be saved; that doctrines are
   unimportant things; that as to the doctrines of God's grace, they are
   rather dangerous than otherwise, and the less you inquire about them
   the better; they are very good things for the priests, but you common
   people cannot understand them. Thus they keep back a portion of the
   gospel with cautious reserve; but having studied in the devil's new
   Jesuitical college, they understand how to call themselves particular
   Baptists, and then preach general doctrines, to call themselves
   Calvinists, and preach Arminianism, telling the people that it does not
   signify whether they preach damnable heresies instead of the truth of
   God. And what do the congregations say? "Well, he is a wise man, and
   ought to know." So you are going back into as bad a priestcraft as
   ever. Presbyter has become priest written large, and minister has
   become priest in many a place because persons do not search for
   themselves and endeavour to get hold of the truth of God. It is
   everywhere proclaimed that we are all right; that though one says God
   loved his people from before the foundation of the world, and the other
   that he did not; though one says that God is changeable and turns away
   from his people, and the other, that he will hold them fast to the end;
   though the one says that the blood of Christ avails for all for whom it
   was shed and the other, that it is inefficacious for a large number of
   those for whom he died; though one says that the works of the law are
   in some measure necessary, or at any rate that we must endeavour to
   improve what we have, and then we shall get more, while the other says,
   that "by grace we are saved through faith, and that not of ourselves,
   it is the gift of God," yet both are right. A new age this, when
   falsehood and truth can kiss each other! New times these when fire and
   water can become friendly! Glorious times these when there is an
   alliance between hell and heaven, though God knows, we are of vastly
   different families. Ah! now, who cares for truth except a few
   narrow-minded bigots as they are called. Election--horrible!
   Predestination--awful! Final perseverance--desperate! Yet, turn to the
   pages of the Puritans, and you will see that these truths were preached
   every day. Turn to the Fathers; read Augustine, and you will see that
   these were the truths for which he would have bled and died. Read the
   Scriptures, and if every page is not full of them I have not read them
   aright, or any child of God either. Ay, laxity of doctrine is the great
   fault now; we solemnly protest against it. You may fancy that I am
   raising an outcry about nothing at all. Ah! no; my anxious spirit sees
   the next generation--what will that be. This generation--Arminianism.
   What next? Pelagianism. And what next? Popery. And what next? I leave
   you to guess. The path of error is always downward. We have taken one
   step in the wrong direction; God knows where we shall stop. If there
   had not been sturdy men in ages gone by, the Lord would not have left
   to us a remnant even now; all grace must have died, and we had become
   like unto Gomorrah and unto Sodoma. Oh, church of the living God,
   awake! awake! Once more write truth upon thy banner; stamp truth upon
   thy sword; and for God and for his word, charge home. Ye knights of
   truth, and truth alone, shall sit king over the whole world!

   But now I have lifted up the whip, I must have another lash. Look on
   any section of the church you like to mention, not excepting that to
   which I belong; and let me ask you whether they have not defiled their
   garments. Look at the church of England. Her articles are pure and
   right in most respects; yet see how her garments are defiled. She hath
   made the Queen her Head instead of God; she bows before the state, and
   worships the golden calf that is set up before her. Look at her
   abominations, her pluralities, her easy living bishops doing nothing;
   look at her ungodly clergymen in the country, living in sin. The
   churchman who does not know that his church has defiled her garments is
   partial to his mother, as indeed he ought to be, but he is too partial
   to speak the truth. But good churchmen themselves weep, because what I
   say is true. Then look at John Wesley's body; have not they defiled
   their garments? See how they have lately been contending with a
   despotism as accursed as any that ever brooded over the slaves in
   America? See how they have been rent in sunder, and how imperfect in
   doctrine they are too after all, professedly at least, not holding the
   truth of God. Look into what denomination you please, Independent, or
   Baptist, or any other--have they not all defiled their garments in some
   way or other? Look at the churches around, and see how they have
   defiled their garments by giving baptism to those who whom it was never
   intended, and degrading a holy church ordinance to become a mere sop
   with which they feed their babes. And see how they have taken away
   Christ's honor, how they have taken the bread that was meant for the
   children, and cast it to ungodly persons. Look at our own denomination:
   see how it has deserted the leading truths of the gospel. For a proof
   hereof, I refer you to hundreds of our pulpits. Oh church of God! I am
   but a voice crying in the wilderness, but I must cry still, "How art
   thou fallen from heaven, thou son of the morning! how art thou fallen!"
   "Remember how thou hast received and heard, and hold fast, and repent."
   If thou dost not watch, thy Master will come upon thee as a thief, and
   thou shalt not know in what hour he will come unto thee.

   II. But now we come to far easier work; not because we would shun what
   we conceive to be our duty, even at the expense of offending many now
   present, but because we always delight to speak well if we can. "Thou
   has a few names even in Sardis that have not defiled their garments."
   He we have SPECIAL PRESERVATION. Mark, "Thou hast a few names." Only a
   few; not so few as some think, but not as many as others imagine! A few
   compared with the mass of professors; a few compared even with the true
   children of God, for many of them have defiled their garments. They
   were but a few, and those few were even I Sardis. There is not a church
   on earth that is so corrupt but has "a few." You who are always
   fighting so much for your denomination, you think other denominations
   are Sardis; but there are a few even in Sardis. Even if the
   denomination is the worst of all Protestant sections, there are a few
   in Sardis; and perhaps that is as much as we can say of our
   denomination: so we will treat them all alike. There are a few in
   Sardis--mark that. Not in what you conceive to be Philadelphia, your
   own blessed church, but in Sardis--there are a few there. Where there
   is heresy and false doctrine, where there are many mistakes about rites
   and ceremonials, there are a few there; and even where they cringe
   before the state, there are a few there--ay, and a goodly few too, a
   few whom we love, with whom we can hold communion. This makes us severe
   against the whole body, but it makes us very loving towards all the
   dear people of God everywhere. There are a few even in Sardis. Well,
   when I meet a brother who lives in Sardis, I will hope he is one of the
   few; and when you meet such, do you say, "Ah! well, I know my brother
   comes out of a bad church, but there are a few in Sardis, and very
   likely he is one of them." That is the kind of charity God loves; not
   the universal charity which says Sardis is all right, but that which
   says, some in her are sincere. We stand this morning like old Elijah,
   when he stood before God and said, "I, only I, am left, and they seek
   my life." But God whispers, "I have yet reserved unto myself seventy
   thousand that have not bowed the knee to Baal." Take heart, Christian,
   there are a few in Sardis--do not forget that--who have not defiled
   their garments. Take heart. It is not all rotten yet; there is a
   soundness in the core after all; there is "a remnant according to the
   election of grace;" there is "salt," and for the sake of that salt,
   many who have defiled their garments in a measure will be saved. They
   will enter into heaven even as these few will; but unto the few there
   will be special honor and special blessing. Take heart then; and
   whenever you go to your chamber and mourn over the sad condition of the
   church, think you hear that good old woman in her closet groaning and
   crying; think you hear that minister faithfully dispensing the word;
   think you see that valiant deacon standing up for God's truth; think
   you see that young man strong in the midst of temptation; think of
   these few in Sardis, and they will cheer you. Do not be quite downcast.
   Some heroes have not turned their backs in the day of battle; some
   mighty men still fight for the truth. Be encouraged; there are a few in
   Sardis. But be careful, for perhaps you are not one of the few. Since
   there are but a few, there ought to be great searchings of heart. Let
   us look to our garments and see whether they be defiled. If they be
   not, we shall walk in white, for we are worthy through Jesus. Be
   active; be prayerful. The fewer the workmen to do the work the greater
   reason is there that you should be active. Be instant in season and out
   of season, because there are so few. Oh! if we had hundreds behind us,
   we might say, "Let them do the work;" but if we stand with only a few,
   how should each of those few rush hither and thither! A city is
   besieged: it is full of inhabitants; half of them are asleep; the
   others watch the walls, and thus they relieve each other. Another city
   has but a few defenders: see how that champion rushes first to that
   breach and routs the enemy; now he brings his might to another place; a
   bastion is assaulted, and he is there; now a postern is attacked--there
   he is with all his force behind him; he is here, he is there, he is
   everywhere, because he feels there is but a handful of men who can
   gather round him. Take courage, take heart; stir yourselves up to the
   sternest activity, for verily there are but a few in Sardis who have
   not defiled their garments. Above all, be prayerful. Put up your
   earnest cries to God that he would multiply the faithful, that he would
   increase the number of chosen ones who stand fast, that he would purify
   the church with fire in a furnace seven times heated, so that he might
   bring out her third part through the fire; cry unto God that the day
   may come when the much fine gold shall be no longer dim, when the glory
   shall again return unto Zion. Beg of God to remove the cloud, to take
   away "the darkness that may be felt." Be doubly prayerful, for there
   are but a few in Sardis who have not defiled their garments.

   III. This brings us to the third point, which is a PECULIAR REWARD.
   "They shall walk in white, for they are worthy." The attentive reader
   will observe, that in quoting the passage just now, I left out two of
   the sweetest words in the passage. It reads: "They shall walk with me
   in white, for they are worthy." That is the very pith of the honor; if
   the rest of it be gold this is the jewel. "They shall walk with me in
   white." That is to say, communion with Christ on earth shall be the
   special reward of those who have not defiled their garments. Now, I
   must say a very hard thing again, but it is a true one. Go into what
   company you please, do you meet with many men who hold communion with
   Christ? Though they may be godly men, upright men, ask them if they
   hold communion with Christ, and will they understand you? If you give
   them some of those sweetly spiritual books, that those who hold
   fellowship love to read, they will say they are mystical, and they do
   not love them. Ask them whether they can spend an hour in meditation
   upon Christ, whether they ever rise to heaven and lay their head on the
   breast of the Saviour, whether they ever know what it is to enter into
   rest and get into Canaan; whether they understand how he has raised us
   up together and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ
   Jesus; whether they can often say,

   Abundant sweetness while I sing

   Thy love, my ravish'd heart o'erflows;

   Secure in thee my God and King

   Of glory that no period knows."

   Ask them that, and they will say, "We don't comprehend you." Now, the
   reason of it is in the first part of my sermon--they have defiled their
   garments, and therefore Christ will not walk with them. He says, "Those
   that have not defiled their garments shall walk with me." Those who
   hold fast the truth, who take care to be free from the prevailing sins
   of the times, "These," he says, "shall walk with me; they shall be in
   constant fellowship with me; I will let them see that I am bone of
   their bone, and flesh of their flesh: I will bring them into the
   banqueting-house; my banner over them shall be love; they shall drink
   wine on the lees well refined; they shall have the secrets of the Lord
   revealed unto them, because they are the people who truly fear me: they
   shall walk with me in white." Oh, Christian! if thou wouldst have
   communion with Christ, the special way to win it is by not defiling thy
   garments, as the church has done.

   But we must dwell on the rest of the passage. "They shall walk with me
   in white, for they are worthy." A good old author says there is a
   reference here to that fact, that the rabbis allowed persons to walk in
   white who could trace their pedigree without a flew; but if they found
   any blot on their escutcheon, and could not trace their birth up to
   Abraham, they were not allowed to walk in white on certain days. Well,
   he says he thinks the passage means that those who have not defiled
   their garments will be able to prove their adoption, and will walk in
   white garments as being sure they are the sons of God. If we would be
   certain that we are the people of God, we must take care that we have
   no blots on our dress, for each one of those spatterings of the mire of
   this earth will cry out, and say "Perhaps you are not a child of God."
   Nothing is such a father of doubts as sin; sin is the very mother of
   our distress. He who is covered with sin must not expect to enjoy full
   assurance, but he who liveth close to his God, and keeps his garments
   unspotted from the world--he shall walk in white, knowing that his
   adoption is sure.

   But chiefly we should understand this to refer to justification. "They
   shall walk in white;" that is, they shall enjoy a constant sense of
   their own justification by faith; they shall understand that the
   righteousness of Christ is imputed to them, that they have

   A matchless robe which far exceeds

   What earthly princes wear;"

   that they have been washed and make whiter than snow, and purified and
   made more cleanly than wool.

   Again, it refers to joy and gladness: for white robes were holiday
   dresses among the Jews. They that have not defiled their garments,
   shall have their faces always bright; they shall understand what
   Solomon meant when he said, "Go thy way, eat thy bread with joy, and
   drink thy wine with a merry heart. Let thy garments be always white,
   for God hath accepted thy works." He who is accepted of God shall wear
   white garments, being received by the Father--garments of joy and
   gladness. Whence so many doubts, so much distress, and misery, and
   mourning? It is because the church has defiled her garments; they do
   not here below walk in white, because they are not worthy.

   And lastly, it refers to walking in white before the throne of God.
   Those who have not defiled their garments here, shall most certainly
   walk in white up yonder, where the white-robed hosts sing perpetual
   hallelujahs to the Most High. If thou hast not defiled thy garments,
   thou mayest say, "I know whom I have believed;" not for my works, not
   by way of merit, but as the reward of grace. If there be joys
   inconceivable, happiness beyond a dream, bliss which imagination
   knoweth not, blessedness which even the stretch of desire hath not
   reached, thou shalt have all these: thou shalt walk in white, since
   thou art worthy. Christ shall say to thee "Well done, good and faithful
   servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."

   But what shall be done with such persons as live in the church, but are
   not of it having a name to live, but are dead? What shall be done with
   mere professors who are not possessors? What shall become of those who
   are only outwardly religious but inwardly are in the gall of
   bitterness? We answer, as good Calvin did once: "They shall walk in
   black, for they are unworthy." They shall walk in black--the blackness
   of God's destruction. They shall walk in black--the blackness of
   hopeless despair. They shall walk in black--the blackness of
   incomparable anguish. They shall walk in black--the blackness of
   damnation. They shall walk in black for ever, because they were found
   unworthy. O professors, search yourselves. O ministers, search
   yourselves. O ye, who make a profession of religion now, put your hands
   within your hearts, and search your souls. You live in the sight of a
   rein-trying God. Oh! try your own reins, and search your own hearts. It
   is not a matter of half-importance for which I plead, but a matter of
   double importance. I beseech you, examine and cross-examine your own
   souls, and see whether ye be in the path, for it will go ill with you
   if ye shall find at last that ye were in the church, but not of it,
   that ye make a profession of religion, but it was only a cloak for your
   hypocrisy--if ye should have entered into his courts below, and be shut
   out of the courts above. Remember, the higher the pinnacle of
   profession the direr your fall of destruction. Beggared kings, exile
   princes, crownless emperors, are always subjects of pity. Professor,
   what wilt thou think of thyself when thy robes are taken from thee,
   when thy crown of profession is taken from thy head, and thou standest
   the hiss of even vile men, the scoff of blasphemers, the jeer of those
   who, whatever they were, were not hypocrites, as thou art? They will
   cry to thee, "Art thou become like one of us? Thou professor, thou
   high-flying man, art thou become like one of us?" And ye will hide your
   guilty heads in the dark pit of perdition, but all in vain, for you
   never will be able to avoid that hiss which shall ever greet you.
   "What! thou!" the drunkard whom you told to drink no more will say "Art
   thou become like one of us?" And the harlot whom you scorned, and the
   young debauched man whom you warned, will stare you in the face, and
   say, "What! you! You who talked of religion. A pretty fellow you were!
   Art thou become one of us?" Oh! I think I hear them saying in hell,
   "Here's a parson, come here; here's a deacon; here's a church member;
   here's a man who has had the sacramental wine within his lips; here's a
   man that has had the baptismal water on his garments." Ah! take care.
   There are but a few names in Sardis who shall walk in white. Be ye of
   that few. May God give you grace that ye be not reprobates, but may be
   accepted of the Lord in that day! May he give you mercy, that when he
   severs the chaff from the wheat, you may abide as the good corn, and
   may not be swept away into unquenchable fire! The Lord in mercy bless
   this warning, and hear our supplication, for Christ's sake. Amen.
     __________________________________________________________________

                       The Allegories of Sarah and Hagar

   A Sermon

   (No. 69)

   Delivered on Sabbath Morning, March 2, 1856, by the

   REV. C.H. SPURGEON

   At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.

   "These are the two covenants."--Galatians 4:24.

   THERE cannot be a greater difference in the world between two things
   than there is between law and grace. And yet, strange to say, while the
   things are diametrically opposed and essentially different from each
   other, the human mind is so depraved, and the intellect, even when
   blessed by the Spirit, has become so turned aside from right judgment,
   that one of the most difficult things in the world is to discriminate
   properly between law and grace. He who knows the difference, and always
   recollects it--the essential difference between law and grace--has
   grasped the marrow of divinity. He is not far from understanding the
   gospel theme in all its ramifications, its outlets, and its branches,
   who can properly tell the difference between law and grace. There is
   always in a science some part which is very simple and easy when we
   have learned it, but which, in the commencement, stands like a high
   threshold before the porch. Now, the first difficulty in striving to
   learn the gospel is this. Between law and grace there is a difference
   plain enough to every Christian, and especially to every enlightened
   and instructed one; but still, when most enlightened and instructed,
   there is always a tendency in us to confound the two things. They are
   as opposite as light and darkness, and can no more agree than fire and
   water; yet man will be perpetually striving to make a compound of
   them--often ignorantly, and sometimes wilfully. They seek to blend the
   two, when God has positively put them asunder.

   We shall attempt this morning to teach you something of the allegories
   of Sarah and Hagar, that you may thereby better understand the
   essential difference between the covenants of law and of grace. We
   shall not go fully into the subject, but shall only give such
   illustrations of it as the text may furnish us. First, I shall want you
   to notice the two women, whom Paul uses as types--Hagar and Sarah; then
   I shall notice the two sons--Ishmael and Isaac; in the third place, I
   shall notice Ishmael's conduct to Isaac; and I shall conclude by
   noticing the the different fates of the two.

   I. First, we invite you to notice THE TWO WOMEN--Hagar and Sarah. It is
   said that they are the types of the two covenants; and before we start
   we must not forget to tell you what the covenants are. The first
   covenant for which Hagar stands, is the covenant of works, which is
   this: "There is my law, O man; if thou on thy side wilt engage to keep
   it, I on my side will engage that thou shalt live by keeping it. If
   thou wilt promise to obey my commands perfectly, wholly, fully, without
   a single flaw, I will carry thee to heaven. But mark me, if thou
   violatest one command, if thou dost rebel against a single ordinance, I
   will destroy thee for ever." That is the Hagar covenant--the covenant
   propounded on Sinai, amidst tempests, fire and smoke--or rather,
   propounded, first of all, in the garden of Eden, where God said to
   Adam, "In the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die." As
   long as he did not eat of the tree, but remained spotless and sinless,
   he was most assuredly to live. That is the covenant of the law, the
   Hagar covenant. The Sarah covenant is the covenant of grace, not made
   with God and man, but made with God and Christ Jesus, which covenant is
   this: "Christ Jesus on his part engages to bear the penalty of all his
   people's sins, to die, to pay their debts, to take their iniquities
   upon his shoulders; and the Father promises on his part that all for
   whom the Son doth die shall most assuredly be saved; that seeing they
   have evil hearts, he will put his law in their hearts, that they shall
   not depart from it, and that seeing they have sins, he will pass them
   by and not remember them any more for ever." The covenant of works was,
   "Do this and live, O man!" but the covenant of grace is, "Do this, O
   Christ, and thou shalt live, O man!" The difference of covenants rests
   here. The one was made with man, the other with Christ; the one was a
   conditional covenant, conditional on Adam's standing, the other is a
   conditional covenant with Christ, but as perfectly unconditional with
   us. There are no conditions whatever in the covenant of grace, or if
   there be conditions, the covenant gives them. The covenant gives faith,
   gives repentance, gives good works, gives salvation, as a purely
   gratuitous unconditional act; nor does our continuance in that covenant
   depend in the least degree on ourselves. The covenant was made by God
   with Christ, signed, sealed, and ratified, in all things ordered well.

   Now come and look at the allegory. First, I would have you notice, that
   Sarah who is the type of the new covenant of grace, was the original
   wife of Abraham. Before he knew anything about Hagar, Sarah was his
   wife. The covenant of grace was the original covenant after all. There
   be some bad theologians who teach that God mad man upright, and made a
   covenant with him; that man sinned, and that as a kind of afterthought
   God mad a new covenant with Christ for the salvation of his people.
   Now, that is a complete mistake. The covenant of grace was made before
   the covenant of works; for Christ Jesus, before the foundation of the
   world, did stand as its head and representative; and we are said to be
   elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the
   obedience and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus. We, long ere we fell,
   were loved of God; he did not love us out of pity to us, but he loved
   his people, considered purely as creatures. He loved them when they
   became sinners; but when he started with them he considered them as
   creatures. He allowed them to fall into sin, to show forth the riches
   of his grace, which existed before their sin. He did not love them and
   choose them from among the rest, after their fall, but he loved them
   beyond their sin, and before their sin. He made the covenant of grace
   before we fell by the covenant of works. If you could go back to
   eternity, and ask which is the oldest born, you would hear that grace
   was born before law--that it came into the world long before the law
   was promulgated. Older even than the fundamental principles which guide
   our morals is that great fundamental rock of grace, in covenant made of
   old, long ere seers preached the law, and long ere Sinai smoked. Long
   before Adam stood in the garden God had ordained his people to eternal
   life, that they might be saved through Jesus.

   Notice next: though Sarah was the elder wife, yet Hagar bare the first
   son. So the first man Adam was the son of Hagar; though he was born
   perfectly pure and spotless, he was not the son of Sarah when he was in
   the garden. Hagar had the first son. She bore Adam, who lived for a
   time under the covenant of works. Adam lived in the garden on this
   principle. Sins of commission were to be his fall; and if he omitted to
   do the sin, then he was to stand for ever. Adam had it entirely in his
   own power whether he would obey God or not: his salvation, then, rested
   simply on this basis, "If thou touchest that fruit thou diest; if thou
   obeyest my command, and dost not touch it, thou shalt live." And Adam,
   perfect as he was, was but an Ishmael, and not an Isaac, till after his
   fall. Apparently, at any rate, he was a Hagarene, though secretly, in
   the covenant of grace, he may have been a child of promise. Blessed be
   God, we are not under Hagar now; we are not under the law since Adam
   fell. Now Sarah hath brought forth children. The new covenant is, "The
   mother of us all."

   But notice again, Hagar was not intended to be a wife; she never ought
   to have been anything but a hand-maid to Sarah. The law was never
   intended to save men: it was only designed to be a hand-maid to the
   covenant of grace. When God delivered the law on Sinai, it was apart
   from his ideas that any man would ever be saved by it; he never
   conceived that man would attain perfection thereby. But you know that
   the law is a wondrous handmaid to grace. Who brought us to the Saviour?
   Was it not the law thundering in our ears? We should never have come to
   Christ if the law had not driven us there; we should never have known
   sin if the law had not revealed it. The law is Sarah's handmaid to
   sweep our hearts, and make the dust fly so that we may cry for blood to
   be sprinkled that the dust may be laid. The law is, so to speak, Jesus
   Christ's dog, to go after his sheep, and bring them to the shepherd;
   the law is the thunderbolt which affrighteth ungodly men, and maketh
   them turn from the error of their ways, and seek after God. Ah! if we
   know rightly how to use the law, if we understand how to put her in her
   proper place, and make her obedient to her mistress, then all will be
   well. But this Hagar will always be wishing to be mistress, as well as
   Sarah; and Sarah will never allow that, but will be sure to treat her
   harshly, and drive her out. We must do the same; and let none murmur at
   us, if we treat the Hagarenes harshly in these days--if we sometimes
   speak hard things against those who are trusting in the works of the
   law. We will quote Sarah as an example. She treated Hagar harshly, and
   so will we. We mean to make Hagar flee into the wilderness: we wish to
   have nothing to do with her. Yet it is very remarkable, that coarse and
   ill-featured as Hagar is, men have always a greater love for her than
   they have for Sarah; and they are prone continually to be crying,
   "Hagar, thou shalt be my mistress," instead of saying, "Nay, Sarah, I
   will be thy son, and Hagar shall be bondmaid." What is God's law now?
   It is not above a Christian--it is under a Christian. Some men hold
   God's law like a rod, in terrorem, over Christians, and say, "If you
   sin you will be punished with it." It is not so. The law is under a
   Christian; it is for him to walk on, to be his guide, his rule, his
   pattern. "We are not under the law, but under grace." Law is the road
   which guides us, not the rod which drives us, nor the spirit which
   actuates us. The law is good and excellent, if it keeps its place.
   Nobody finds fault with the handmaid, because she is not the wife; and
   no one shall despise Hagar because she is not Sarah. If she had but
   remembered her office, it had been all well, and her mistress had never
   driven her out. We do not wish to drive the law out of chapels, as long
   as it is kept in its right position; but when it is set up as mistress,
   away with her; we will have nought to do with legality.

   Again: Hagar never was a free woman, and Sarah never was a slave. So,
   beloved, the covenant of works never was free, and none of her children
   ever were. All those who trust in works never are free, and never can
   be, even could they be perfect in good works. Even if they have no sin,
   still they are bond-slaves, for when we have done all that we ought to
   have done, God is not our debtor, we are debtors still to him, and
   still remain as bond-slaves. If I could keep all God's law, I should
   have no right to favour, for I should have done no more than was my
   duty, and be a bond-slave still. The law is the most rigorous master in
   the world, no wise man would love its service; for after all you have
   done, the law never gives you a "Thank you," for it, but says, "Go on,
   sir, go on.!" The poor sinner trying to be saved by law is like a blind
   horse going round and round a mill, and never getting a step further,
   but only being whipped continually; yea, the faster he goes, the more
   work he does, the more he is tired, so much the worse for him. The
   better legalist a man is, the more sure he is of being damned; the more
   holy a man is, if he trust to his works, the more he may rest assured
   of his own final rejection and eternal portion with Pharisees. Hagar
   was a slave; Ishmael, moral and good as he was, was nothing but a
   slave, and never could be more. Not all the works he ever rendered to
   his father could make him a free-born son. Sarah never was a slave. She
   might be sometimes taken prisoner by Pharoah, but she was not a slave
   then; her husband might sometimes deny her, but she was his wife still;
   she was soon owned by her husband, and Pharoah was soon obliged to send
   her back. So the covenant of grace might seem once in jeopardy, and the
   representative of it might cry, "My Father, if it be possible, let this
   cup pass from me;" but it never was in real hazard. And sometimes the
   people under the covenant of grace may seem to be captives and
   bond-slaves; but still they are free. Oh! that we knew how to "stand
   fast in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free."

   One thought more. Hagar was cast out, as well as her son; but Sarah
   never was. So the covenant of works has ceased to be a covenant. Not
   only have the people been cast away who trusted in it, not simply was
   Ishmael cast out, but Ishmael's mother too. SO the legalist may not
   only know himself to be damned, but the law as a covenant has ceased to
   be, for mother and son are both driven out by the gospel, and those who
   trust in law are sent away by God. You ask to-day who is Abraham's
   wife? Why Sarah; does she not sleep side by side with her husband in
   the Machpelah's cave at this instant? There she lies, and if she lie
   there for a thousand years to come, she will still be Abraham's wife,
   while Hagar never can be. Oh, how sweet to think, that the covenant
   made of old was in all things ordered well, and never, never shall be
   removed. "Although my house be not so with God, yet hath he made with
   me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and sure." Ah! ye
   legalists, I do not wonder that ye teach the doctrine of falling away,
   because that is consistent with your theology. Of course, Hagar has to
   be driven out, and Ishmael too. But we who preach the covenant of free
   and full salvation know, that Isaac never shall be driven out, and that
   Sarah never shall cease to be the friend and wife of Abraham. Ye
   Hagarenes! ye ceremonialists! ye hypocrites! ye formalists! of what
   avail will it be, when at last ye shall say, "Where is my mother? Where
   is my mother, the law?" Oh! she is driven out, and thou mayest go with
   her into eternal oblivion. But where is my mother? the Christian can
   say at last; and it will be said, "There is the mother of the faithful,
   Jerusalem above, the mother of us all; and we shall enter in, and dwell
   with our Father and our God."

   II. Now we are going to review the TWO SONS. While the two women were
   types of the two covenants, the two sons were types of those who live
   under each covenant. Isaac is a type of the man who walks by faith, and
   not by sight, and who hopes to be saved by grace; Ishmael of the man
   who lives by works, and hopes to be saved by his own good deeds. Let us
   look at these two.

   First, Ishmael is the elder. So, beloved, the legalist is a great deal
   older than the Christian. If I were a legalist to-day, I should be some
   fifteen or sixteen years older than I am as a Christian, for we are all
   born legalists. Speaking of Arminians, Whitfield said, "We are all born
   Arminians." It is grace that turns us into Calvinists, grace that makes
   Christians of us, grace that makes us free, and makes us know our
   standing in Christ Jesus. The legalist must be expected, then, to have
   more might of argument than Isaac; and when the two boys are wrestling,
   of course Isaac generally gets a fall, for Ishmael is the biggest
   fellow. And you must expect to hear Ishmael making the most noise, for
   he is to be a wild man, his hand against every man, and every man's
   hand against him; whereas Isaac is a peaceful lad. He always stands up
   for his mother, and when he is mocked, he can go and tell his mother
   that Ishmael mocked him, but that is all that he can do; he has not
   much strength. So you notice now-a-days. The Ishmaelites are generally
   the strongest, and they can give us desperate falls when we get into
   argument with them. In fact, it is their boast and glory that the
   Isaacs have not much power of reasoning--not much logic. No, Isaac does
   not want it, for he is an heir according to promise, and promise and
   logic do not much consist together. His logic is his faith; his
   rhetoric is his earnestness. Never expect the gospel to be victorious
   when you are disputing after the manner of men; more usually look to be
   beaten. If you are discoursing with a legalist, and he conquers you,
   say, "Ah! I expected that; it shows I am an Isaac, for Ishmael will be
   sure to give Isaac a thrashing, and I am not at all sorry for it. Your
   father and mother were in the prime of life, and were strong; and it
   was natural that you should overcome me, for my father and mother were
   quite old people.

   But where was the difference between the two lads in their outward
   appearance? There was no difference between them as to ordinances, for
   both of them were circumcised. There was no distinction with regard to
   outward and visible signs. So, my dearly beloved, there is often no
   difference between Ishmael and Isaac, between the legalist and the
   Christian, in matters of outward ceremonies. The legalist takes the
   sacrament and is baptized; he would be afraid to die if he did not. And
   I do not believe there was much difference as to character. Ishmael was
   nearly as good and honorable a man as Isaac; there is nothing said
   against him in Scripture; indeed, I am led to believe that he was an
   especially good lad, from the fact that when God gave a blessing, he
   said, "With Isaac shall the blessing be." Abraham, said, "O that
   Ishmael might live before thee." He cried to God for Ishmael, because
   he loved the lad, doubtless, for his disposition. God said, yes, I will
   give Ishmael such-and-such a blessing; he shall be the father of
   princes, he shall have temporal blessings; but God would not turn
   aside, even for Abraham's prayer. And when Sarah was rather fierce, as
   she must have been that day when she turned Hagar out of the house, it
   is said, "It grieved Abraham because of his son;" and I do not suspect
   that Abraham's attachment was a foolish one. There is one trait in
   Ishmael's character that you love very much. When Abraham died, he did
   not leave Ishmael a single stick or stone, for he had previously given
   him his portion and sent him away; yet he came to his father's funeral,
   for it is said that his sons Ishmael and Isaac buried him in Machpelah.
   There seems then to have been but little difference in the characters
   of the two. So, dearly beloved, there is little difference between the
   legalist and the Christian as to the outward walk. They are both the
   visible sons of Abraham. It is not a distinction of life; for God
   allowed Ishmael to be as good as Isaac, in order to show that it was
   not the goodness of man that made any distinction, but that he "will
   have mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom he will be hardeneth."

   Then what was the distinction? Paul has told us that the first was born
   after the flesh, and the second after the Spirit. The first was a
   natural son, the other a spiritual one. Ask the legalist, "You do good
   works; you have repented, you say: you are keeping the law, and you
   have no need to repent. Now, where did you get your strength from?"
   Perhaps he says, "Grace;" but if you ask him what he means, he says
   that he used it; he had grace, but he used it. Then the difference is,
   you used your grace, and others did not. Yes. Well, then, it is your
   own doing. You may call it grace, or you may call it mustard; it was no
   grace after all, for it was your using, you say, that made the
   difference. But ask poor Isaac how he has kept the law, and what does
   he say? Very badly, indeed. Are you a sinner, Isaac? "Oh! yes, an
   exceedingly great one; I have rebelled against my father times without
   number; I have often gone astray from him." Then you do not think
   yourself quite as good as Ishmael, do you? "No." But yet there is a
   difference between you and him after all. What has made the difference?
   "Why, grace has made me to differ." Why is not Ishmael an Isaac? Could
   Ishmael have been an Isaac? "No," says Isaac, "it was God who made me
   to differ, from the first to the last; he made me a child of promise
   before I was born, and he must keep me so."

   "Grace all the work shall crown

   Through everlasting days;

   It lays in heaven the topmost stone,

   And well deserves the praise."

   Isaac has more really good works; he does not stand second to Ishmael.
   When he is converted, he labours, if it be possible, to serve his
   father far more than the legalist does his master; but still doubtless,
   if you were to hear both their tales, you would hear Isaac say that he
   was a poor miserable sinner, while Ishmael would make himself out a
   very honorable Pharisaic gentleman. The difference is not in works,
   however, but in motives; not in the life, but in the means of
   sustaining life--not in what they do, so much as in how they do it.
   Here, then, is the difference between some of you. Not that you
   legalists are worse than Christians; you may be often better in your
   lives, and yet you may be lost. Do you complain of that as unjust? Not
   in the least. God says men must be saved by faith, and if you say, "No,
   I will be saved by works," you may try it, but you will be lost for
   ever. It is as if you had a servant, and you should say, "John, go and
   do such-and-such a thing in the stable;" but he goes away and does the
   reverse, and then says, "Sir, I have done it very nicely." "Yes," you
   say, "but that is not what I told you to do." So God has not told you
   to work out your salvation by good works; but he has said, "Work out
   your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God that worketh
   in you to will and to do of his good pleasure." So that when you come
   before God with your good works he will say, "I never told you to do
   that. I said, believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and be baptized, and
   thou shalt be saved." "Ah!" you say, "I though the other was a great
   deal better way." Sir, you will be lost for your thoughts. "Why is it
   that the Gentiles, who followed not after righteousness, have attained
   unto righteousness," when Israel, who followed after righteousness,
   hath not attained it? It is this: "Because they sought it not by faith,
   but by the works of the law."

   III. Now I will briefly say a word or two concerning ISHMAEL'S CONDUCT
   TO ISAAC. It says that Ishmael mocked Isaac. Have not some of you, dear
   sons of Hagar, felt exceedingly irritated when you heard this doctrine?
   You have said, "It is dreadful, it is horrible, it is quite unjust,
   that I may be as good as I like, but if I am not a son of the promise,
   I cannot be saved; it is really awful, it is an immoral doctrine; it
   does a deal of damage, and ought to be stopped." Of course! That shows
   that you are an Ishmael. Of course Ishmael will mock at Isaac; and we
   need no further explanation. Where the pure sovereignty of God is
   preached, where it is held that the child of the promise, and not the
   child of the flesh, is the heir, the child of the flesh always makes a
   hubbub about it. What said Ishmael to Isaac? "What business have you
   here? Am I not my father's eldest son? I should have had all the
   property, if it had not been for you. Are you above me?" That is how
   the legalist talks. "Is not God the father of everybody? Are we not all
   his children? He ought not to make any difference." Said Ishmael: "Am
   not I as good as you? Do I not serve my father as well? As for you, you
   know you are your mother's favourite, but my mother is as good as
   yours." And so he teased and mocked at Isaac. That is just how you
   Arminians do with free salvation. The legalist says, "I don't see it, I
   cannot have it, and I won't; if we are both equal in character, it
   cannot be fair that one should be lost, and the other saved." And thus
   he mocks at free grace. You may get on very easily, if you do not
   preach free grace too fully, but if you dare to speak such things,
   though they are obnoxious to the crowd, what will people say? They call
   them "baits for popularity." (See the so-called FREEMAN Newspaper.) Few
   fishes, however, bite at those baits. Most men say, "I hate him, I
   cannot bear him; he is so uncharitable." You say we preach this to gain
   popularity! Why, it is, upon the surface of it, a bare-faced lie; for
   the doctrine of God's sovereignty will always be unpopular; men will
   always hate it, and grind their teeth, just as they did when Jesus
   taught it. Many widows he said, were in Israel, but to none of them was
   the prophet sent, save unto a widow of Sarepta. And many lepers were in
   Israel, but none of them were healed, except one who came far away from
   Syria. A fine popularity our Saviour got from that sermon. The people
   ground their teeth at him; and all the popularity he had, would have
   been to be pushed down the hill, from which, it is said, they would
   have cast him headlong, but he made his way out of them and escaped.
   What! popular to humble a man's pride, to abolish man's standing, and
   make him cringe before God as a poor sinner? No; it will never be
   popular till men be born angels, and all men love the Lord, and that
   will not be just yet, I ween.

   IV. But we have to enquire WHAT BECAME OF THE TWO SONS.

   First, Isaac had all the inheritance, and Ishmael none. Not that
   Ishmael came off poorly, for he had many presents, and became very rich
   and great in this world; but he had no spiritual inheritance. So the
   legalist will get many blessings, as a reward for his legality; he will
   be respected and honored. "Verily," said Christ, "the Pharisees have
   their reward." God does not rob any man of his reward. Whatever a man
   angles for, he catches. God pays men all he owes, and a great deal
   over; and those who keep his law, even in this world, will receive
   great favours. By obeying God's command they will not injure their
   bodies as much as the vicious, and they will preserve their reputation
   better-obedience does good in this way. But then Ishmael had none of
   the inheritance. So, thou poor legalist, if thou art depending on thy
   works, or on anything, except the free sovereign grace of God, for thy
   deliverance from death, thou wilt not have so much as a foot of the
   inheritance of Canaan, but in that great day when God shall allot the
   portions of all the sons of Jacob, there will be not a scrap for thee.
   But if thou art a poor Isaac, a poor guilty trembling sinner--and if
   thou sayest, "Ishmael has his hands full,

   But nothing in my hands I bring,

   Simply to the cross I cling."

   If thou art saying this morning--

   I am nothing at all,

   But Jesus Christ is my all in all."

   If thou renouncest all the works of the flesh, and dost confess, "I the
   chief of sinners am, but I am the child of the promise; and Jesus died
   for me," thou shalt have an inheritance, and thou shalt not be robbed
   of it by all the mocking Ishmaels in the world; nor shall it be
   diminished by the sons of Hagar. Thou mayest sometimes be sold, and
   carried down to Egypt, but God will bring his Josephs and his Isaacs
   back again, and thou shalt yet be exalted to glory, and sit on Christ's
   right hand. Ah! I have often thought what consternation there will be
   in hell when outwardly good men go there. "Lord," saith one as he goes
   in, "am I to go into that loathsome dungeon? Did not I keep the
   Sabbath? Was not I a strict Sabbatarian? I never cursed or swore in all
   my life. Am I to go there? I paid tithes of all that I possessed, and
   am I to be locked up there? I was baptized; I took the Lord's supper; I
   was everything that ever a man could be, that was good. It is true, I
   did not believe in Christ; but I did not