I have no pleasure in the death of him that dieth, but would rather that he should turn unto me and live."

Yet once again, and here is a rich thought of comfort. It was in God's power to make the world or not, just as he pleased. No promise bound him; no covenant made it imperative upon him that his arm should be outstretched. Sinner, the Lord is not bound to save thee except from his own promise, and that promise is "He that calleth upon the name of the Lord shall be saved." He cannot, he cannot withhold saving thee if thou callest upon him. His covenant hath bound him to be merciful to those who confess their sins. He is merciful and just to forgive us our sins, and to save us from all unrighteousness. This, then, is a case that glistens with brighter light than did the case of the uncreated world; and as, of his own will, without pledge or covenant, he made the earth what it is, most surely now he has promised it, he will save thee if thou trustest in Jesus.

Once more here. It is certain that there is more room in your case for God to glorify himself, than there was in the making of the world. In making the world he glorified his wisdom, and he magnified his power, but he could not show his mercy. He could have no mercy upon floods and mountains, upon cattle and flying fowl. There was kindness, but no mercy, for they had not sinned. Now, here is your case, there is room for every attribute of God, for his loving-kindness, his faithfulness, his truth, his power, his grace. Yours is a hopeless case, because it is hopeless to you; there is room for God, because, certainly, there is no space for you. You can do nothing; it is your extremity, and it is therefore God's opportunity. What would I give this morning if I could turn one tearful eye away from itself to Christ! I know how foolish we all are that we will be looking to flesh and blood. Turn thine eye, sinner, to the cross where bleeds the Saviour. Rest on him; he, without whom was not anything made that was made, dies for thee. He who was in the beginning with God, and who was God, works out thy redemption. Trust him, and the work is done. Rest on him, and thy soul is brought to-day into the realm of safety, and thou hast passed from death unto life.

I will tell you a little anecdote which will show how foolish we are, when we depend on self. I have heard that lately, a ship on her way to Australia, met with a very terrible storm, and sprung a leak; and a little while after another hurricane overtook her. There happened to be a gentleman on board, of the most nervous temperament that can be imagined, whose garrulous tongue and important air were calculated to alarm all the passengers. When the storm came on, the captain, who knew what damage had been done, managed to get near him; and the gentleman said to the captain, "What an awful storm; I am afraid we shall go to the bottom, for I hear the leak is very bad." "Well," said the captain, "as you seem to know it and perhaps the others do not, you had better not tell them, lest you should dispirit my men. Perhaps, as it is a very bad case, you would lend us your valuable self, and we may possibly get through it. Would you have the goodness to stand here and hold hard on this rope; pray do not leave it, but pull as hard as ever you can till I tell you to let it go." So our friend clenched his teeth, and put

his feet stiff down, and kept on holding this rope with all his might for several hours. The storm abated; the ship was brought right, and our friend let go his rope. He expected a deputation would bring him the thanks of all the passengers, but they were unconscious of his merits. He thought at least there would be a contribution for a piece of plate for what he had done, but no piece of plate came. Even the captain did not seem very grateful, so he ventured, very distantly in a roundabout-style to hint, that such valuable services as his, having saved the vessel, ought to be rewarded with some few words of gratitude at any rate; when he was shocked to hear the captain say, "What, do you think you saved the vessel? Why, I gave you that rope to hold to keep you out of the way, you did a world of mischief till I had you quiet." So now, mark you, there are some people who are wanting to do so much; they think they can certainly save themselves, and there they stand holding the rope with their clenched teeth and their feet tightly fixed, while they are really doing no more than our poor friend, who was thus befooled. If ever you get to heaven, you will find that everything you did towards your own salvation, was about as useful as what this man did when he was holding the rope; that in fact, the safety of the vessel lies somewhere else and not in you; and that what is wanting with you is just to get you out of the way; and when you are out of the way, and are made a fool of, then Christ comes in and shows his wisdom. While, perhaps, all the while you are bemoaning yourself that you should be so badly treated, it would not have been possible for you to be saved unless you had been put out of the way, that Almighty God might do the work from first to last.

III. And now I have to conclude with one or two words of ENCOURAGEMENT TO BELIEVERS.

And so, my brother in Christ, you are greatly troubled are you? It is a common lot with us all. And so, you have nothing on earth to trust to now, and are going to be cast on your God alone? Your vessel is on her beam-ends, and now there is nothing for you but just to be rolled on the providence and care of God. What a blessed place to be rolled on! Happy storm that wrecks a man on such a rock as this! O blessed hurricane that drives the soul to God and God alone! On some few occasions I have had troubles which I could not tell to any but my God, and I thank God that I have, for I learned more of my Lord then than at any other time. There is no getting at our God sometimes because of the multitude of our friends. But when a man is so poor, so friendless, so helpless that he has nothing, he flies into his Father's arms, and how blessedly he is clasped there! So that, I say again, happy trouble that drives thee to thy Father! Blessed storm that wrecks thee on the rock of ages! Glorious billow that washes thee upon this heavenly shore! And now thou hast nothing but thy God to trust to what art thou going to do? To fret? To whine? O, I pray thee do not thus dishonour thy Lord and Master! Now, play the man, play the man of God. Show the world that thy God is worth ten thousand worlds to thee. Show rich men how rich thou art in thy poverty when the Lord God is thy helper. Show the strong man how strong thou art in thy weakness when underneath thee are the

everlasting arms. Now man, now man, now is thy time to glorify God. Thou knowest there was no room for thy courage before, but now there is space for feats of faith and valiant exploits. Our present mode of warfare bids fair to annihilate courage altogether, for now men fight at such a distance that the hand-to-hand fight is impossible. But in those brave days of old, when the troops of Rupert and of Cromwell met handto-hand, when up-hill the Puritanic legions spurred their horses against the hosts of "the man of blood," then there was room for bravery. Then men could fight not at two miles' distance, but foot-to-foot. Then there was room for the solitary bravo to lead the way against a multitude; then the scaling-ladder clicked on the top of the wall, and the brave man of the forlorn hope went up it step by step, with his cutlass between his teeth, until he reached the top; then men could make themselves famous; but now, what with iron ships and large Armstrong guns, there is hardly room for men to be courageous. But, believer, you, in your lonely distress, have returned to you "the brave days of old." When you had your regular income from the Consols, when your business prospered, when you had your children and your friends about you, why there was no room for you to perform heroic deeds of resignation and trust; but now you are stripped, now at it, for your foes are before you. When the Duke of Wellington asked a soldier what kind of dress he would like to wear if he had to fight another Waterloo-" Please your grace," said the man, "I'd like to fight in my shirt-sleeves." Well now, you have come to that; you have nothing now to encumber you; you can fight in your shirt-sleeves, and now is the time to win the victory. Be strong and very courageous, and the Lord thy God shall certainly, as surely as he built the heavens and the earth, glorify himself in thy weakness, and magnify his might in the midst of thy distress. The Lord help us to lean wholly on him, and never on ourselves, and let his name be had in remembrance while the earth endureth. Amen, and Amen.

CHRIST'S SERVANT-HIS DUTY, AND REWARD.

A Sermon

DELIVERED ON SUNDAY MORNING, AUGUST 3RD, 1862, BY
REV. C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.

"If any man serve me, let him follow me; and where I am, there shall also my servant be: if any man serve me, him will my Father honour."-John xii. 26. How many persons are of the religion of the Greeks who are mentioned in this chapter! They would see Jesus, but they would not serve him. Impelled by curiosity they would know somewhat of this matter; they would investigate the claims of Christ to the Messiahship and they would consider the special truths by which he professes to illuminate the world, but beyond this they would not venture. They give their minds to criticise; they are not indifferent to the gospel, but they regard it with the same interest as that with which a naturalist would look upon a newly-discovered insect, or a geologist would study a section of the earth's crust; but as to personally feeling the hallowed influence of truth, they know not what it means. Many of these Greeks proceed much further; they feel an admiration for the character, and teaching of Jesus, and they express that admiration in honest encomiums; but see how hollow is their appreciation; they applaud the person whom they scorn to obey; they admire teachings which they will not practice; they listen to the divine Word, but they are hearers only, and not doers of the truth. Probably there are numbers in this assembly to whom the Christian religion has always been a subject of respectful interest; they have never blasphemed the name of Christ; they have not doubted the inspiration of Scripture; nay, they have studied God's Word; they have given a degree of attention to its doctrines, and they intend yet more fully to examine its revelations. How pleasant and hopeful are such marks of interest, but how far are many of these enquirers from true discipleship for their unhumbled hearts are not obedient to the dictates of the gospel; the cross is to them, too heavy a load to carry; they have not made up their minds to wear "Christ's yoke;" they had rather see his holiness and see his disciples imitate him, than themselves take up the cross daily and follow him. My hearers, allow me to remind you very solemnly, that a speculative religion which has curiosity as its impulse, a search after knowledge as its rule, and self-esteem as its root, can never save the soul. It is not for you to criticise, but to repent; it is not for you to judge, but to believe; it is not for you to admire, but to obey; it is

not for you to praise and applaud, but cheerfully to bow your necks to imitate and follow Christ. Nothing short of a religion which subjects us to personal service of Christ, which gives us a new heart and a right spirit, and compels us to feel that we are not our own, but bought with a price-nothing short of this will ever give lasting peace of mind, or bring us to the place where we shall see the face of God with delight.

Many proudly dream that to serve Christ would be dishonourable, and that they would bemean themselves by becoming humble followers of the Lamb. Let me remind them, that not thus thought those whose opinions we esteem. Even a heathen could say "To serve God is to reign." We know that that noblest of men, before the coming of John the Baptist, the greatest that had ever been born of woman-Moses, the king in Jeshuron, and the leader of God's hosts-has as his highest title "Moses, the servant of God;" and even our Lord and Master, whose shoe's latchet we are not worthy to unloose, took upon himself the form of a servant, and though he were a son, yet learned he obedience by the things that he suffered. Since the days of our Redeemer, the greatest in the Church of Christ have been the servants of all, and those who have attained to the highest dignities and honours which it is in the power of Christ's Church to confer, have been those who joyfully stooped to the most menial occupations, and being willing to be less than the least, became the greatest of all. Let us imitate him who was "King of kings," and yet a "Servant of servants." Let us follow him who is girt about the paps with a golden girdle and wraps the light about him as a garment, and yet unrobed himself, and took a towel, like a servant, that he might wash his disciples' feet. The motto of the Prince of Wales is "Ich dien,"-"I serve;" it should be the motto of every prince of the blood-royal of heaven. Let every Christian write this now upon his crest-"I serve," and, from this day forth, wherever he is, let him not seek lordship, let him leave that to the Gentiles and to a carnal world, but let him seek ministry and service, being willing to do anything or to be anything by which he may profit the body of Christ, which is the Church.

We will now endeavour, as the Blessed Spirit shall aid us, to expound its three-fold teaching. You will mark, first of all, plain directions for a very honourable office-"If any man serve me, let him follow me;" in the second place, most generous stipulations from a noble Master-" Where I am, there shall also my servant be;" and thirdly, most glorious rewards for imperfect services-"If any man serve me, him will my Father honour."

I. We have here PLAIN DIRECTIONS FOR A VERY HONOURABLE OFFICE. "If any man serve me, let him follow me." A golden precept, written on a tablet of ivory.

I speak the sentiments of the majority of those present when I say, we would all of us like to minister to Christ. We feel that if he were here now, there would be nothing which we would not do for him. The word used in our text three times might very properly be translated thus-"If any man would act the part of a deacon towards me, let him follow me; and where I am there shall also my deacon be; and he that acts as a deacon towards me shall be honoured of my Father." The word "deacon" in the original Greek means nothing but a servant,