If a man in Palestine carefully watched his fig tree, and kept it in proper condition, he was sure to be abundantly rewarded in due season, for it would yield him a large quantity of fruit of which he would enjoy the luscious taste. So, according to Solomon, good servants obtained honour as the fruit of diligent service. In those early days, when there were far better relations between servants and masters than unhappily there are nowadays, if a servant carefully waited upon his master he was sure to be honoured for his faithfulness. The Bible is full of such cases. Eleazar, the servant and steward of Abraham, met with much honour at his master’s hands. Deborah was a faithful nurse, and what sorrow there was for her at Allon-bachuth, or the oak of weeping. Elisha poured water upon the hands of his master Elijah, and became himself a prophet, endowed with a double portion of his master’s spirit. In the New Testament we read of the centurion who so honoured his servant that in his sickness he sent to the Lord Jesus, earnestly entreating him to come and heal him. There were exceptions, of course. There were faithful servants who met with ungenerous treatment; but what rule is there without an exception? The rule was that he who was faithful to his master received honour. I could wish it to be more general for there to be intimate friendly relationships between men and their servants; I would fain see a restoration of family loyalty between heads of households and their dependants, In these times servants, and persons in the employ of others, are looked upon as hands to be worked, rather than as souls to be cared for. It may be that servants have degenerated, but it may also be the truth that masters have degenerated too. I believe that every Abraham will be likely to find an Eleazar, and every Rebekah a Deborah. Good masters make good servants. Good servants make good masters. Happy is the family where, without forgetting the proper distinctions of position, all are knit together in firm friendship. Alas! the bonds of society have been too much loosened. Oppression on the one hand, and discontent on the other, have rent the commonwealth. Yet there still survive among us instances of personal attachment where servants have served the same masters from their youth up, have continued with them in sickness, and in misfortune, have remained faithful to the family when the master has been scarcely able to remunerate them for their services, and have continued faithful even unto death. I am sure when we have read such stories, or seen such servants ourselves, we have felt that they deserved to be had in honour; and there is a general respect still which is manifested by mankind to the servant that waiteth upon his master. However, I am not going to speak about the duties of masters and servants this evening. At other times we have not hesitated to speak our mind upon that matter, and we shall not fail to do so as occasion requires.

But now we shall speak of a higher Master, who was never unfaithful to a servant yet, and never will be; and we shall speak of a superior service, which brings to those who are engaged in it the highest possible degree of honour. Blessed are they who are servants of the King of kings. Happy is he who takes even the lowest place, and fulfils the meanest office for the Lord Jesus, if any service can be mean that is rendered to our all-glorious Immanuel.

We will begin by considering the relation of the Lord Jesus Christ to us, and ours to him; then we shall consider the conduct which is consistent with that relation; and then the reward which is promised to such conduct.

And, first, the relation which subsists between ourselves and our Lord. He is our Master-our Master.

I speak now, of course, only to you who are converted, to you who are true believers and are saved by faith in Jesus Christ. The Lord Jesus is to you your Master, in the sense of contrast to all other governing powers. You are men, and naturally moved by all that which moves other men, but still the master motive power with every one of you who is a Christian is the supremacy of Christ. There are some among your fellow servants to whom you render respect, just as in a large firm there are foremen set over different parts of the work, to whom a measure of deference is fitly rendered. Still, as the overseer is not the chief authority, so your earthly superiors are not in the highest sense masters over you. The highest of your fellow workmen in your Lord’s service is far, far, far below the Master; ministers and fathers in Christ are not the ultimate authorities to whom you bow, and whatever esteem you may pay even to such glorious names as those of Peter, and James, and John, you still regard them but as your fellow servants. “One is your Master, even Christ, and all ye are brethren.” In this sense we are not servants of men, yea, we know no man after the flesh. We are in subjection to the Father of Spirits, but neither to Pope in Rome, nor bishop at home; we are the Lord’s free men, and cheerfully obey those whom he sets over us in his church: but we yield to none who claim lordship over us, and would divert us from obeying the Lord Jesus only.

The Christian man has, of course, to attend to the concerns of this life, and while he is attending to them he must throw a measure of his heart into them, or he cannot do them properly; Still, the matter of our heart is not our business, but our Saviour. A Christian man is thoughtful, and he studies, and reads, and investigates; still, for all that, philosophy does not rule him, nor the news of the day, nor the science of the times. Christ is our Master-master of our thoughts and meditations, the great leader and teacher of our understandings. We are his disciples, and disciples of none else besides. We are affected by the love of family, the love of friendship, the love of country; but there is a love that is higher than all these-a master-love, and this is love to Jesus our Well-beloved the Bridegroom of our souls. That text is frequent misread,-“No man can serve two masters.” The stress is not to be laid upon the word “two”. For the matter of that, a man might serve three, or half-a-dozen, or twenty; but the stress is to be laid upon the word “master”-“No man can serve two masters.” Only one thing can be the master-passion only one power can completely master us, so as to be supremely dominant, and exercise imperial lordship over us. No man can have two imperial, master-faculties, master-motives, and master-ambitions. One is our Master, and that one is Christ. Brethren, as I have said before, we are compelled while we are in this body to yield to this impulse and to that, we are urged forward by this motive and by that, we pursue this end and that, and subordinately none of these things may be sinful, but the master-impulse must be the love of Christ, the master-aim must be Christ’s glory, and the master-power that doth possess us, as the Spirit took possession of the prophets of old and carried them right away, must be loyalty to Jesus Christ our Lord. He is our Master, and we stand before him as servants who desire to obey his bidding.

What is, then, the reason why the Lord Jesus Christ has become to us a Master? If we were contending with the ungodly, who challenge us for calling Christ “Master,” we could give them a ready enough answer by telling them that he is the Master-man of all men. We would ask them to turn over the pages of history and find a man it was worth while to serve in comparison with the man Christ Jesus. We would appeal to his character, and ask, was there ever a character which could compel homage as his character does? Why, he is a right royal man in all respects: there is nothing about him of meanness or weakess. To know him is to become enthusiastic in his cause. We would then point to his kingdom and the nature and character of it, and ask whether there was a kingdom for which men ought to fight, for which men ought to strive and be willing to die, compared with his kingdom? We would point to the benefits which he confers upon mankind, the blessings which the faith of Jesus Christ has scattered amongst the nations, and ask if there ever was a cause so worthy of zeal as the cause of Christ, which is the cause of humanity, the cause of truth, the cause of right, the cause of God. His are the principles which alone can redeem men from their degradation, and misery. We count it easy enough to answer the ungodly in this matter. Whoever their leader may be, he is not fit to loosen the shoe latchet of our Master’s sandal; whoever he may be, and however they may lift him up, he is only fit to lie in the dust beneath the feet of our Immanuel. He is so excellent, and in his nature so pre-eminent, that we defy anyone to count us foolish for choosing him to be our Master.

But behind all this, deep down in our souls, we have other reasons for calling him our Master, namely, that we belong to him by the purchase of his blood, by the rescue of his grace, and again, by the surrender, the willing surrender, which we have made to him. Christ is our Master because he bought us. When we were sold under sin, when by the justice of God we were condemned to die, when we were utter slaves, he purchased us and redeemed us from all iniquity with a cost which sometimes has seemed to us, for his sake, to be too great. What were ten thousand times ten thousand sinful worms compared with the Son of God? Yet that glorious Son of God laid down his life for us. He loved his church and gave himself for it-a matchless price, indeed, to pay!-and now we are not our own, but are bought with a price. We feel that we should be unjust to Jesus, base to our best Benefactor, if we were to ignore the solemn obligations under which his redemption has placed us. We had been on the road to hell if it had not been for his blood; shall we not walk in the way of his commands? After what he has done for us, nothing is too great for us to do for him. Our body, our soul, our spirit we cheerfully render up to his dominion, neither count we ought of our nature to be our own. As he has redeemed us entirely, so in the entirety of our manhood we belong altogether to him; and if there be a part of our nature which has not been subdued to him, we desire him to conquer it by force of arms, for its rebellion against him is sorrow to ourselves. Jesus is our rightful Lord, his wounds attest it, and if any other lord hath dominion over any other portion of our nature, that lordship is usurped and ought to be cast down.

I said, moreover, that Christ has won us by his power as well as by his blood. There are two redemptions, redemption by price and redemption by power; redemption by price was typified in the paschal lamb and the passover, redemption by power in the passage of the Red Sea, when the children of Israel went through it dry shod, and the Egyptians were drowned. Remember how Jacob spake to his son Joseph and said, “I have given to thee one portion above thy brethren, which I took out of the hand of the Amorite with my sword and with my bow.” Now, the Lord Jesus Christ claims us in the same way as Jacob claimed that particular portion, for we are his spoil, taken in battle. Almighty grace bowed us down when we were stiff-necked; almighty grace delivered us from our habits of sin when we were fast bound by them; almighty grace broke the iron bars of our despair and led us into liberty; let all the glory be ascribed unto the Almighty Redeemer. With a high hand and an outstretched arm he brought us forth from the Egypt of our lusts and taught our willing feet the way to the heavenly Canaan. And now we grace his chariot wheels as servants, not in manacles of iron, but in silken fetters of love.

“As willing captives of our Lord

We sing the triumphs of his word,”

and confess him to be our Master and none beside.

Remember that I also said we are his servants and he our Master, because we have willingly surrendered ourselves to him. Recall to your memories that blessed time when you gave yourselves up to Jesus under the sweet constraint of his love. Was it not a good day in which you said-

“Now, Lord, I would be Thine alone,

Come, take possession of Thine own,

For Thou hast set me free;

Released from Satan’s hard command,

See all my members waiting stand,

To be employ’d by Thee.”

And now at this day, remembering the love of your espousals when you went after your Lord into the wilderness, would you have it otherwise? You were married to him; do you now wish to sue for a divorce against your glorious Bridegroom? Nay, but you can sing with Doddridge,

“High heaven, that heard the solemn vow,

That vow renew’d shall daily hear:

Till in life’s latest hour I bow,

And bless in death a bond so dear.”

Now, beloved, as I have shown that Christ had a right to be our Master from the very dignity of his character, and that we yield him service because of his love to us; it only remains for me to add that our position of servants to Christ is an irreversible one. The servant of old when he might go out from bondage, sometimes said, “I love my master, and I love his children, and I love his house. I desire to be his bondsman for ever,” and after the same manner would I speak this day. And then, you remember, they took an awl and they bored the man’s ear and fastened it to the doorpost, that he might be a servant as long as he lived. Even after that fashion would I say, “Mine ears hast thou opened, and I was not rebellious.” Who among us would not wish to bear in our body the marks of the Lord Jesus, to receive the brand which would betoken the irretrievable confiscation of all sinful liberty? Do we not wish to be for ever bound to Christ and crucified with him? This was the teaching of our baptism. When we were baptised we were buried in the water. The teaching was, that we were henceforth to be dead and buried to the world and alive alone for Jesus. It was the crossing of the Rubicon-the drawing of the sword and the flinging away of the scabbard. If the world should call us, we now reply, “We are dead to thee, O world!” One of the early saints, I think it was Augustine, had indulged in great sins, in his younger days. After his conversion he met with a woman who had been the sharer of his wicked follies; she approached him winningly, and said to him, “Augustine,” but he ran away from her with all speed. She called after him, and said, “Augustine, it is I,” mentioning her name; but he then turned round and said, “But it is not I; the old Augustine is dead, and I am a new creature in Christ Jesus.” That to Madam Bubble and to Madam Wanton, to the world, the flesh, and the devil, should be the answer of every true servant of Christ: “I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me. Thou art the same, O fair false world-thou art the same, but not I. I have passed from death unto life, from darkness into light. Thy siren charms can fascinate me no more. A nobler music is in my ear, and I am drawn forward by a more sovereign spell towards other shores than yours. My bark shall cut her way through all seas and waves till it reaches the fair haven and I see my Saviour face to face.” ’Tis irretrievable, then, this step which we have taken, the absolute surrender of our whole nature to the sway of the Prince of peace. We are the Lord’s. We are his for ever and for ever. We cannot draw back, and blessed be his name, his grace will not suffer us to do so. “The path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day.”

“Leave thee! no, my dearest Saviour,

Thee whose blood my pardon bought;

Slight Thy mercy, scorn thy favour!

Perish such an impious thought:

Leave Thee-never!

Where for peace could I resort?”

The second point of our reflection is to be this. Seeing that we are servants to Jesus, there is a conduct which is consistent therewith.

What conduct is consistent in a servant? Is it not, first, that he should own himself to be his master’s? Such a servant as is mentioned in the text does not call himself his own, or his time his own. No person who is a servant can say during his work hours-“This time is my time, I can do what I like with it.” No, he is a false servant if having sold his time for a reward, he takes it to himself. Servants of Jesus have no time at their own disposal. We have no wealth of our own, we are only stewards; we have no talents, they are our Lord’s. When we have traded with our stock, and have multiplied it diligently, we shall say to our Lord, “Thy pound hath gained ten pounds.” We dare not call the talent ours. If we are true servants, we are always about our Master’s business. If we eat or drink, or rest or sleep, we desire to do all to the glory of God. We are never off duty. A policeman may be, but we never are. A soldier may have a furlough, but a Christian never, he must wear both night and day the whole armour of God. We are always to bear the shield, and the sword is always to be in our hands. Even in our recreation we are to remember that our Master may come at any hour, and therefore we are still to be looking for his coming.

As servants it is our duty to learn our Master’s will. I am grieved to observe that some of my fellow servants do not want to know their Lord’s will. There would not be so many divisions in the church if we all came to Holy Scripture and searched the law and the testimony to know the Lord’s will. The Lord’s will is fully set forth there, and no other book is of the slightest authority among saints. The Lord’s will is not in the prayer-book, it is in the Bible. The Lord’s will is not in the canons; the Lord’s will is not in the creed of the Baptist church, or the Wesleyan church, or the Congregational church, or the Episcopalian church; his will is in the Scriptures: and if we searched them more and more, and were determined, irrespective of anything that may have been done by the church, or the world, or by government, or by anybody else, that we would all follow our Lord’s will, we should come to closer union. We are divided because we do not study the Lord’s will as we should. Brethren, we ought to be prepared to give up any doctrine however venerable, any institution however comely, if we do not see it to be the divine will. Obedience is the path of the servant, obedience is his safety and happiness. What have I as a servant to do with anybody but my Master? I am set to do a certain thing, and if passers-by make a remark that I am not doing it according to the usual rules of the trade, what is that to me? Rules and customs are of small consequence. My Master’s will must be everything to me if I am a true servant. Somebody will sneeringly remark, “You are acting very singularly.” Well, the Master must be accountable for the singularity of conduct which he prescribes. If we are true servants we obey even in the jots and tittles, at all hazards. But we must search the word, for unread Bibles are evidences against rebels, and are unbecoming in believers.

When his master’s will is known, every true servant is bound immediately to do it. A servant is not to say, “Sir, I will attend to that to-morrow.” If the command be ascertained, it will be as surely disobedience to postpone obedience as to reject the duty altogether. If delay be a part of the command, the delay is justifiable, but, if not, the servant must not tarry. “But surely you forget that the consequences of obedience may be costly and involve great sacrifices?” Servants have nothing to do with consequences; those belong to their masters. “But, perhaps, if I were to follow out the Master’s command, I might place myself in a position where I should not to as useful as I now am.” You have nothing whatever to do with that except as it may prove a test of your faith: it is a lame obedience which only follows the Master where carnal judgment approves. A servant of God is not to use his judgment as to the rightness of his Master’s command; he is to do as he is bidden, for his Lord is infallible. What if the heavens fell through our doing right? God does not want us to sin in order to prop them up. His throne is not rotten so as to need buttresses of iniquity. Consequences of true principles ought never to be considered. There is nothing more vicious in the world than policy; it may be admired in the House of Commons, but it should be detested in the church of God. Far from our minds be every question of policy. If an act be right, let it be done: if Christ bids it, let it be done; and let there be no hesitation in the matter.

It is ours, also, if we are servants, to obey the Master willingly and for love of his person. The text says, “He that waiteth upon his master shall be honoured.” Suppose I, as a minister, know something to be God’s will, yet, nevertheless, attend to it with the view of serving you and doing you good as God’s church; I shall possibly receive honour from you whom I serve, but that is not the honour which a Christian minister ought to seek. The church is not his master; his Master is in heaven, and if he desires real honour, he must earn it by waiting upon his Master for his Master’s sake. Suppose any of you are children, and are doing right in order to please your parents-I will not censure the motive; you will get honour from your parents; but the right honour is gained by seeking to please God. You must labour as believers to wait upon your Master; to come to the house of God, for instance, not because it is the custom, but because you would honour the Lord in prayer and praise; you must give to the poor, not because others have given so much, but because Jesus loves his people to be mindful of poor saints; you must do good, not that others may say, “See what a zealous man he is!” but for your Master’s sake. I am afraid we sometimes serve ourselves even in our holiest things; and, in carrying out our judgment of the Lord’s will, we are often the victims of prejudice or whim, and are not so much determined to do the Lord’s will as to have our own, or to carry out what we call our “principles” in order to show that we are not to be cowed by human opposition. Ah, brethren, there must be no motive with us but our Master’s honour. “He that waiteth on his master shall be honoured.” Wait on your Master. Take care that you have an eye always to him. Do your duty because he bids you. Then you shall win the honour of which the text speaks.

Then observe that this waiting upon the Master is to be performed personally by the servant. It is not, “The servant who employs another to wait upon his master shall be honoured,” I do not so read the text, but “He that waiteth upon his master” himself, doing personal service to a personal master-he shall have honour. Jesus Christ did not redeem us by proxy. He, himself-his own self-bare our sins in his own body on the tree. Let us not attempt to serve God by merely contributing to the foreign mission, or City Mission, or helping to support the minister, or something of that sort. We should do that, but we should not put it in the place of the other. Let us constantly give our personal service, speaking for Christ with these lips, pleading for his kingdom with this heart, running on his errands with these feet, and serving him with these hands.

“He that waiteth on his master shall be honoured,” even though the waiting be almost passive. Sometimes our master may not require us to do anything more than stand still. But you know John, the footman, behind his master’s chair, if his master bids him stand there, is as true a servant as the other attendant who is sent upon an errand of the utmost importance. The Lord for wise reasons may make us wait awhile. Having done all, we may yet have to stand still and see the salvation of God, and find it to be the hardest work of all. In suffering especially is that the case; for it is painful to be laid aside from the Master’s service; yet the position may be very honourable. There is a time for soldiers to lie in the trenches as well as to fight in the battle. David made a law that those who tarried with the baggage were to share the spoil with those who went down to the fight. This is the rule of the church militant to this day. Some cannot march to the battle, yet are they to share in the spoil; they are waiting on their Master, and they shall be honoured.

On the whole, summing all up in a word, it is ours to abide near to Christ. Servants wait best when they can see their master’s eye and hear his wish. We are to wait upon our Master humbly, reverently, feeling it an honour to do anything for him. We are to be self-surrendered, given up henceforth to the Lord, free men, and yet most truly serfs of this Great Emperor. We are never so truly free as when we own our sacred serfdom. We are henceforth the body servants of the Lord Jesus Christ. Often Paul calls himself the servant of the Lord and even the slave of Christ; and he glories in the branding iron’s marks upon his flesh. “I bear,” says he, “in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus; henceforth let no man trouble me.” We count it liberty to bear the bonds of Christ. We reckon this to be supremest freedom, for we sing with the psalmist, “I am thy servant; I am thy servant. Thou hast loosed my bonds.” “Bind the sacrifice with cords, even with cords to the horns of the altar.” Such is the conduct which our servitude to our Lord requires.

The third point is, the reward which surely comes to faithful servants. “He that waiteth on his master shall be honoured.”

You will observe that he finds his honour in waiting on his master. Now, the Christian may have other honours besides the one of waiting on his Master. He may have poor, wretched, miserable, laded honours. I am always sorry when I see a Christian making himself some great one in the world’s esteem. I knew one, and I esteemed him much. He was an earnest, Christian man, but his great ambition was to be the chief magistrate in a certain city, which I shall not name. He lived to reach that post, and his heart exulted greatly; but I noticed that the very night he attained the honour the hand of the Lord went forth against one whom he greatly loved, and in a short time he himself sickened, and went home to his Father and his God. No joy came with the honour, for he had looked at it too long, and with too keen an eye. Not I alone, but those who knew him, judged so too, and we almost thanked God that he did not suffer the child of God, whose crown was in heaven, to be satisfied with being a magistrate here. I have seen men grow very eager after gold, they have had a good business, but have clutched at more and got it, and then sought after more still; and when I have seen chastening come, and sorrow in the household, I have not marvelled at it, for I have understood that Christ meant his servant to take honour from him, and if he would look after other honour he would find it but a bitter-sweet. There is a law, I believe, that no subject of Her Majesty may take princely rank from any foreign potentate, and it is a law in the kingdom of Christ. What honour can this world confer upon a servant of Christ? I count that to be a scullion in Christ’s kitchen would be a greater honour than to be the Czar of all the Russias, or to exercise imperial sway over all the kingdoms of the earth at once. Honour! Ye confer honour upon the servant of Christ-ye worldlings! As well might emmets upon their anthills hope to confer dignity upon an angel! Already infinitely superior, it is but degradation to a saint to be honoured by the sons of men. The servant of Christ finds his honour in the service itself. The cultivator of the fig tree looks for figs from the fig tree; the servant of the Master looks for honour from the Master, and he covets no honour besides.

Every faithful servant of Christ is honoured in his Master’s honour. If you serve Christ aright you will have to bear his reproach. You must take your share of the cross; for you have already your share of the crown. Thanks be to God, who always causes us to triumph in every place. Paul and the other apostles, when they were suffering for Christ, were always triumphing in Christ at the same time. If there be any honour in the cause of truth and righteousness, and the salvation of men, Christ has it all, but he reflects some of it upon those of his servants who vindicate his righteous cause and propagate his truth. “He that waiteth on his master is honoured” by being permitted to wait upon such a Master. The honour of the Master falls upon the servant, who is honourably distinguished by wearing the livery of the great Prince.

He is honoured too with his Master’s approval. Did you ever feel that Christ approved of you? You did some little act of love which nobody knew of but your Lord; he smiled on you, you knew he did, and you felt superabundantly rewarded. You served him, and you were reviled for it, but you took it very joyfully, for you felt that he knew all about it, and as long as your Master was satisfied it did not signify what man could do unto you. For the true Christian his Lord’s approval is honour enough.

Sometimes the Lord honours faithful servants by giving them more to do. If they have been faithful in that which is least, he tries them in that which is great. If they have looked after a few little children, and fed the lambs, he says, “Come hither and feed my sheep.” If they have trimmed a vine, or a fig tree in a corner, he calls them out and sets them among the chief vines of the vineyard, and says to them, “See after these clusters.” Many a man would have been called to wider fields of labour if he had not been discontented or slothful in his narrow sphere. The Lord watches how we do little things, and if great care be taken in them he will give us greater things to do. Elisha poured water upon the hands Elijah, and then the Lord says, “Elijah’s mantle shall fall upon his faithful servant, and he shall do even greater miracles.”

God also honours the faithful in the eyes of their fellow servants. When I take down from my library-shelf the biography of a holy man I honour him in my soul; I do not mind whether he was a a bishop or a Primitive Methodist preacher, a blacksmith or a peer, I do him honour in my heart. If he served his Master, he will be sure to be elevated into a position of honour in the memory of succeeding ages. There are some men whose doctrines you and I could not endorse, who yet were faithful to the light they had, and therefore we number them amongst the honoured dead, and we are glad to recollect how bold they were against the foe, how meek they were with the little ones, how faithful they were in believing their God, and how courageous in rebuking sin. If you would have honour from your fellow servants, you will never get it by seeking honour from them; you must go to your Master and honour him by waiting upon him, and then there will come to you honour in the eyes of your fellow men.

But, beloved, the chief honour of a faithful servant comes from the blessed Trinity. “If any man will serve me, him will my Father honour.” Does it not appear too good to be true that a poor man should be honoured of God the Father, the Creator, the great I Am! I will not speak about it, but leave you to think it over.

And then Jesus Christ will honour us; for he says, that when the master comes and finds the servant waiting for him, he will gird himself and serve him. Can you understand that? There was a certain saturnalia amongst the Romans, which was observed once a year, in which the masters changed places with the servants entirely, and the servants sat at the table and commanded their masters as they liked, while the masters served them. It has been thought by some that our Saviour has drawn the figure from that singular celebration. I hardly think that it can be so, for he would scarcely have cared to use such an illustration. To think of the great Master serving us is strange indeed; yet he has done it. He did so when he took a towel and washed his disciples’ feet, and he will do it again; he will gird himself and serve us.

The Holy Spirit will honour us too, for the Holy Spirit often puts great honour upon a faithful man in a way that I cannot explain to you except by a figure. Moses had been a faithful servant, and the skin of his face shone when he came down from the mount. Stephen was a faithful servant, and when he stood up to confront his adversaries, he was full of the Holy Ghost, and a glory gleamed from his face. When the Spirit of God is richly in a man, and that man is faithful to his Master, some gleamings of a supernal splendour will come from him, not visible to human eyes but potent over human hearts. Believers will feel its power, for as one of our poets says, when a good man is in company ’tis even as though an angel shook his wings. You feel the influence of the man, and almost without a word from him, he has honour in the eyes of them that sit at meat with him, for the Holy Ghost is upon him.

Now, dear brethren and sisters, I close by saying we ought faithfully to serve, for we have before us the greatest conceivable reward, a reward which grace enables us to gain. That precious blood which cleanses us, cleanses our service also, it makes us white as snow, and it makes our service white too. We and our work are both accepted in the Beloved. A Christian’s works are good works: let no one say they are not, for they are the work of the Spirit of God, and who shall say they are not good? It is an encouragement to go forward when we know that “he that keepeth the fig tree shall eat the fruit thereof;” and that “the servant who waiteth on his master shall be honoured.”

There is a black side to this, upon which suffer ye one word. He who doth not serve Jesus Christ, will not be honoured. In the day when the Lord cometh many that sleep in the dust shall awake, some to glory, but some to shame and everlasting contempt. Oh, the contempt that will be poured upon ungodly men at the last judgment! When God holds up the mirror and they see themselves, they will despise their own image; and when God holds up their characters to men and angels, revealing to all created beings their secret deeds, their evil motives, their base designs, their filthy imaginations, there will go up against such men, dying without faith in Christ, a universal hiss of general execration, to think that they would not believe God, but made God a liar; would not accept the sacrifice of Christ, but trod the blood of the covenant under foot as an unholy thing. Redeemed men will cry, “Shame!” Unfallen angels will cry “Shame!” Holy spirits from a thousand worlds will cry “Shame!” And it will be everlasting contempt. Nothing stings a man like contempt. The poorest among us does not like to be despised, however poor he may be. You do not like to be pointed at and be made the object of derision, yet, sinner, this will be your portion. If you die without believing in Jesus, you will wake up to shame and to everlasting contempt. “Shame shall be the portion of fools”-such shame! Oh, be ashamed to-day, that you may not be ashamed then! Penitent, shame will lead you to fly to Christ, and put your trust in him, and then your transgressions shall be blotted out for ever. May the Spirit lead each one of you to repentance for Jesus’ sake. Amen.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-Ps. 25

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-660, 663, and 664.

THE SPUR

A Sermon

delivered by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

“Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest.”-Ecclesiastes 9:10.

I find that these words, and those which precede them, have been considered by some to be a sarcastic address to those persons of an epicurean spirit who consider this world to be everything, and will not believe that there is a world to come. They are bidden to eat the fat and drink the sweet, and enjoy life while they can; and if they have anything that they wish to do, to get it done as quickly as they can, because there is no work nor device in the grave. If this be the meaning, we must regard it as spoken to them from their own standpoint, and so it is tantamount to their favourite maxim, “let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die.” It is possible that the royal preacher intended our text to be a sardonic sarcasm, but I do not think so. I think the common interpretation is the true one, and that would make it run parallel with the saying of our Lord, “Work while it is called day; for the night cometh wherein no man can work.” It is an address to men, commending to them promptness, determination, and practical earnestness: inasmuch as they have but one life here on earth, they should give diligence to accomplish all the right purposes which they have formed for this world; seeing that once dead they cannot return, neither in the grave can they carry out any of their resolves, they should do quickly what they mean to do. May God give us grace to make a right use of this exhortation.

First, we shall give this passage an evangelical voice to the unconverted; and, secondly, we shall find in it a stimulating voice to the people of God.

First, we shall give it an evangelical voice to the unconverted; and it will be necessary for us to say that there is nothing for the unconverted man to do, by way of work or device with his hand, in order to his being saved: and, therefore, we do not address him, and say to him, “Do what thy hand findeth to do, in order that thou mayest be saved by it;” that would be false doctrine, and would tend to put the anxious seeker upon the wrong track. The gospel regards the unconverted man as dead in trespasses and sins, and it tells him that, first of all, he must be quickened by a new life-he must be born again, in fact, or else he is not capable of those actions which would be acceptable with God; neither if he were capable of them would the performance of them be the way of salvation, for we are expressly told that our salvation is not of works. Salvation from sin, and justification before God, come to us in connection with the work of the Holy Spirit within us leading us to faith in Jesus; and so salvation is entirely and alone of the grace of God. Repentance toward God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ are the evidences of saving grace, and are at once the gifts of God, and the works of the renewed mind. Looking at this present moment upon faith, repentance, prayer, and the seeking of the Lord, as being our works when God’s grace has wrought them in us, we would say to every unconverted person, “It is high time that you should begin to think about the solemn interests of your soul, for you will soon pass from the place of saving knowledge and heavenly wisdom into the shades of forgetfulness.”

Repentance is not a feeling which you may have, or may not have, and yet be equally saved. You must repent of your sins, or there can be no forgiveness for you. Faith in Jesus Christ is not an optional thing; so that a man may peradventure fare well at last, whether he believe or no. “He that believeth not shall be damned” is the emphatic declaration of Christ himself; not an invention of his disciples but our Lord’s own declaration. Ye must have faith, or ye cannot be saved. And ye must be men of prayer, for without prayer no man shall be saved. The sinner’s first evidence of salvation is-“Behold he prayeth!” If there be no prayer, there is no grace. These things are indispensably essential.

Note well, also, that it is essential that they be done with all our might. The text says, “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.” Nobody ever truly repented who repented in a half-hearted way. We cannot repent in our sleep, and so go to heaven dreaming. Eve was taken out of Adam when he was asleep, but our sins will not be removed in a like manner. Neither does any man believe in Jesus without thought upon the matter; faith does not grow spontaneously and without our own consent, like nettles in the sluggard’s garden. Faith is not the fruit of a swoon, it requires the exercise of the faculties. It is a simple thing, but it is an earnest thing, a hearty thing. “If thou believest with all thy heart,” said Philip to the eunuch, “thou mayest be baptised.” It is with the heart that man believeth, and that sort of believing which does not exercise the heart will never save the soul. A prayer, too-a prayer accepted in heaven, is not a dull, cold thing; it is not a saying of prayers, a using of certain holy words, just as wizards of old were accustomed to mutter their enchantments. Oh, no; it is the yearning of the spirit after God, the passionate longing of the creature to get to the Creator, and to be reconciled to him. “The kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by force;” but without a holy violence we shall not gain entrance at the gates of mercy. Prayer is no child’s play, but requires all our might. In order to eternal life there must be faith, there must be repentance, there must be prayer, and these must all be real, deep, fervent, or else they are not such as God gives, and they are not true evidences of salvation.

Moreover, the text urges us to immediate action, because death is coming on. Now I feel quite sure that the bulk of the unconverted part my congregation is made up of persons who have fully resolved one day to repent. If I were now sent as a commissioner from Satan, and were wickedly to ask you to make a contract with the powers of darkness that you never would repent, that you never would believe in Jesus, and that you never would pray, you would start back from so dreadful a compact. You would feel as if a most profane bargain were proposed to you. You would suspect the presence of Mephistopheles or some other form of the arch-deceiver. And yet your actions practically come to the same thing. For how many years have you lived without attending to your souls? “Oh, but we mean to!” Yes, and you meant to twenty years ago. “Oh, but we do really mean it now!” Yes, and you were quite as earnest when you were but children in the Sunday-school. Since then you have had different times of awakening, and you have resolved and re-resolved; but you remain the same. Will it always be so? If so, why do you start back from promising to let it be so? If you think it right to continue unbelievers, what is right to-day will be right to-morrow, and what has been convenient to-day will be as convenient to-morrow; and though you say “Go thy way for this time: when I have a more convenient season I will send for thee,” it will come to pass with you as with Felix, the convenient season will never come, and you will remain unsaved. And yet you are dying men and women! Yet as I look you in the face, I read “Mortality!” written across your brows. There is not a body here but what, unless the Lord shall come, will lie in the cold grave and turn to dust, and there is not a soul here but what shall pass into the disembodied state, and by-and-bye, after the resurrection, shall stand before the judgment seat of God. Yet all this while you are trifling about your best interests; not trifling about your purses, nor about your property, but about your souls, yourselves, your truest selves! Sirs, is this wise? Ye are not short of wit in other things; how are ye then so short of it in this? If ye must play at hazard, let it be with something cheaper than your souls. If there must be risks, go risk your houses and risk your health, but risk not your souls and their everlasting interests. The voice of wisdom says to-day: thou must repent; thou must believe; thou must seek God in prayer, therefore, since death is near thee; do it, do it with thy might, and do it now; for ere long thou wilt be where these things never can be done. In a very short time every unconverted person here will be in the land where there are no Sabbaths. You can waste them now: they hang heavy on some men’s hands, but you will not be galled with Sabbaths there, or worried with calls to go up to the House of God, and think about your souls. We who are preachers of the gospel are very troublesome to you, and often make your consciences uneasy; you will not be troubled with us soon. There will be none to cry to you to have mercy on yourselves. There will be none whose loving importunity shall be a weariness to you. None will annoy you with their expostulations, or burden you with invitations. You will be in the land where there are no Sabbaths and no preachers. And there will be no Bibles there: you will not say there, as you did this afternoon, “It is dry reading-that Bible.” You will not be tired of hearing promises there. No promise and no gospel will ever salute your ears in that dark realm of despair. And there will be no mercy seat there. You do not pray now, though God will hear you; but in a future state prayer will be altogether out of season. God heareth not the ungodly when once they are cast away from his presence. They may call, but he has said, “I will not answer. They refused me, and therefore I will mock at their calamity, I will laugh when their fear cometh.” I pray you remember that there will be no Jesus there, no fountain filled with blood in which to wash away crimson stains. There will be no Redeemer to cover a naked soul with his righteousness, no Saviour to say, “Be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee.” There will be no Spirit of God there to plead with your conscience, and to be resisted. There will be no grace of God there to show you your sins and to show you the atoning sacrifice. I pray you, do have a little patience with us who preach to you, for our time is short, and you will soon be rid of us. Have a little patience with your Bible, it will soon enough be out of your way! Have a little patience with your poor Christian mother who tries to bring you to the Saviour, she will be far from you soon! We, who now trouble you by desiring to do you good, will soon be out of your way. Ah, poor souls! poor souls! for you will then be out of God’s way, and out of Christ’s way, and out of mercy’s way, banished from the Saviour’s presence; and that because the kingdom of God came nigh unto you, and ye put it away from you, for ye would have none of the Lord’s reproofs, but ye turned every one to his own way, and rejected the counsels of God against yourselves. Beloved hearers, may none of you stand in that plight. While I breathe the prayer that it may not be so, may I ask you to pray for yourselves that it will not be so. Will you let me whisper in your ear, as though I stood close by each one of you now; and I will softly and lovingly say,-Repent, and believe in Jesus, now, with all thy might. God help thee, “for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest.”

But now I have another task, and that is, to set forth my text as a stimulating voice to God’s own People. Beloved brethren, our text reminds you that you have a work to do. You have not the work to do of saving yourselves. That is done; the dear Redeemer has finished it. “It is finished,” says the Saviour, and that is joy for you: but now you have another work to do because you are saved. Man was not created to be idle, he was not elected to be idle, he was not redeemed to be idle, he was not quickened to be idle, and he is not sanctified by God’s grace to be idle. Every Christian while resting in Christ’s work for justification is himself a worker, ordained to bring forth fruit unto God’s glory. Have we been bought with the blood of Jesus, and can we be idlers in our Redeemer’s vineyard? The love of Jesus to us must provoke love in our heart to Jesus, and that love must show itself by deeds of service for his name. I am sure we feel that. Do you not feel, brethren and sisters, as members of the Christian church, that you have each a work to do? You love the church, and you would not like to be idle members of it. As soldiers in one great army you eagerly desire to promote the prosperity of the host; as members of the body of Christ you wish to perform your office to your head and your fellow members. I know you do. The vows of Christ are on you, and the vows of the church of God are on you too.

Moreover, I know that my dear brethren have a love for the truth of the gospel. Does it not grieve you when you hear false doctrines, and when you see the idols set up again-the idols which your fathers abhorred, set up in the national temples of God? Your heart is provoked to jealousy-I know it is-and you feel each one of you that you have the truth committed to your charge, and that you are bound to bear testimony to it. This you wish to do most completely. In addition, you feel that you should seek the souls of others. Here is a great city of three millions and more of people, perishing for lack of knowledge; and if you are God’s people you would, if it were possible, snatch them from the flames, and deliver them from the wrath to come. Do you not feel that each one of you, according to his position, has a work appointed him? I know I have mine. There are times without number in which I have wished that I could become the pastor of some little country church, with two or three hundred hearers, over whose souls I could watch with incessant care, about whose circumstances I could fully inform myself, and with whom I could plead individually: but here are so many, so very, very many! You are counted by thousands. What can I do with you? My soul is burdened with the weight of the work to which the Lord has called me; yet I know it is my work, and it must be done.

You are parents, some of you; do you not feel that you are called to bring up your children in the fear of God? Are you doing it? Few Christians in these days feel as they ought that as parents they are bound to instruct their children in the things of God. You are masters; do you care for your servants? Have you no desire to see your households ordered aright? Oh, I trust ye are not such heathen men and publicans, that ye care not for your own households. You live in neighbourhoods where you are brought into contact with your fellow men of all sorts; do you not know that you are put there as lights in a dark place, as handfuls of salt in the midst of putrefaction? Have you never felt that you are debtors? Do you not feel it your duty to battle against error, your duty to coming generations to stand stedfast to the truth to-day, which if it fall to-day, may not rise again for many a century? Have you felt that your obligations extend as far as your influence extends, and that if you are not serving God with your influence you are doing harm with it? If you are a Christian you are like an oil lamp, which, if it does not yield light, gives forth a foul smell as its wick smokes. You are doing mischief if you are not doing good. You set an example of idleness and indifference to the things of God to sinners, which will make them say, “There is nothing in religion! Why should we make any stir about it, when even these who profess to enjoy it do not live as if they were in earnest, and care not whether our souls are lost or saved.” Each woman here, as well as each man, if converted, should feel, “I have a work to do for God.” If you are converted as a child, sing your hosannas to the King; and if you are born to God in your declining years, still bring forth fruit in old age. Even if you are confined to the bed of weakness, there is a something to be done by you before you enter heaven, and the voice of the text says, “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.” That is a most weighty point, and none may question it; all believers have a work to do.

The second thing is this:-Our text indicates the wisest course to follow. It is-Do it, do it at once, do not talk about it, do not regret that you have not done it, and sit down and fret yourself, because you have done so little in the past. It is little use crying over the spilt milk of your past life. If you have not done what you should, up, man, and do what you can! “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it.” Many prefer to find fault with the way in which other people do their work. Yes, and if you look round the Tabernacle, you will see a great many imperfections in the preacher, and in the deacons, and in the elders, and in the members, and possibly none of the workers among us do their work exactly as your superior wisdom would dictate. There are here persons who have done a great deal of good, but you have a notion that you could tell them how to do it in a better fashion, though you do nothing yourself. Oh, sir, have done with it! Go, sir, and do your own work, and I will do mine in my own way. I do not suppose you will do my work better than I do it, if you try, and I do not suppose I can do yours better than you can do it, if I take your place. “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it.”

Our text exhorts us to do our work now. Do not talk about doing it to-morrow, do it at once. The impetus of the text carries the thought as far as that; seeing that death may come to-night, do it now, even now. What wonders would have been done, if to-morrows were to-days! What great achievements have passed through that young man’s imagination! He has often pictured how useful he will be. His day-dream has been so very vivid, that he has mistaken the will for the deed, and complacently reviewed his fine resolutions as if they had already been carried out. He has felt himself to be somebody, on the strength of what he was going to do. What draughts men make upon the future, and how hopefully they reckon upon meeting them when the time comes. Like insolvent traders, they maintain their present position by discounting bills which they will never honour, and live as if they were rich, when all their wealth is represented by the wretched forgeries of their own false promises. Oh, sirs, do not promise to do anything to-morrow; leave off promising and come to real actions. Never mind what you will do next year, what will you do now? “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it,” and do it at once and on the spot. If I knew that my hearers had resolved to be very diligent next week or next month, I should conclude that my sermon was wasted upon them. The fact is, if the sermon tells, a man feels uneasy, and begins to put his fingers into his pocket and his thoughts into his heart, and he says, “What can I do before I sleep to-night? I do not feel comfortable in idleness. Is there not some poor person I could visit? Is not there some poor sinner who is going the wrong road whom I might perhaps lead aright?” An inward impulse makes the man feel as though he walked on hot coals till he has done something for the Lord. Do not quench these impulses, if the thing be good, do it,-do it now.

But Solomon says, “Do it with thy might.” There are several ways of doing the same action. One man will do a thing, and he has done it; another has performed the same action, but has practically done nothing. What a difference there is in preaching! Words may be uttered in a lukewarm manner, and produce no result, while by another preacher nothing better shall be said, but it shall be said earnestly, and the effect will be marvellous. One hates to see a workman finnicking with a hammer, touching the nails as though he loved them too well to hurt them; but one likes to see a workman driving his nails home, working as though he meant it. The masters of assemblies should remember this. If a thing is worth doing, let it be done well: if it is not worth doing, let it alone. Every man who preaches should aim at preaching his best sermon every time he mounts the pulpit. Every Sunday-school teacher ought to teach his best. Every evangelist in the street ought to preach up to his highest level, if it be only to a dozen. Jesus Christ ought never to have our second best things-never. Our best is all too poor for him, let us never put him off with our inferior fruits. Do it-“do it with thy might.”

And, once more, do it all; for the text says, “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it;” that is to say, do it all. Do not pick it over and say, “All these things I could do for Christ, but I shall only do a part of them. Here is a duty which I could perform with my gloves on, like a gentleman. I could do this without trouble, labour, or expense, and earn a good deal of credit by it; this is the kind of thing I will do.” Dost thou think God will accept such obedience as that? Man, do it, if it stains thee from head to foot with mire, if it bring contempt upon thee, and the universal hiss of all thy fellows. Whatsoever-whatsoever God appoints thee to do, do it right straight through. Servants, like beggars, must not be choosers, but what their masters appoint, they must do; and with such a Master, who never can appoint us a dishonourable task, it is a shame that we should think any service too hard. “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it,” and do it at once.

The pith of the text lies in the next thought, namely, that there is an argument to every earnest Christian for intense zeal in the fact of the certain approach of death; “for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest.” Unless the Lord shall come, we shall all die, and that quickly. Life at the longest is very short. When I consider how many claims there are upon a Christian, and how much a loving heart desires to do, and then think how short is the space of time into which we must need crowd all, I am depressed in spirit, but sternly resolute to condense much work into small space. The heathen said, “Art is long, and life is short;” but I will venture to alter the sentence and say, “The service of God is long, and life is short”-far too short for us to perform all our desire. What, then, is the argument from the shortness of life but just this: work for God with all your might. If you have so little time, waste none of it. If there be so small a space entrusted to thee, suffer no wastes and by-ends, but fill up the narrow space with precious things-gold, silver, and precious stones-holy works done in earnest for Jesus Christ. The work-girl sat in her little room, and her fingers flew as she passed the needle rapidly, because she had but that tiny bit of candle, and feared her task might prove longer than her light; may we not also fear that our work for Jesus may prove greater than the time in which we may perform it? At any rate, we cannot afford to throw away a moment.

Remember solemnly that life may end in a single moment. How suddenly death comes across our path! It came almost into my house this morning, for I was scarcely risen from my bed before I was told that a little child belonging to my coachman had died in an instant, though it had seemed to be in perfect health the moment before. The thought came to me with power, “It might have been the master instead of the servant’s child.” I know no more reason why it should have been the little one than myself. Sudden death has perhaps come as near to you lately. It is not a very unusual thing to see death in the street in such a city as this, or to hear of it in the common talk of the day. My friend, would you like to die at this moment? “No,” say you, “I have many things I would wish to finish.” Finish them, brother, finish them at once. Set thine house in order, for thou must die, and not live. “I should like to have prayed with my children more earnestly than I have ever done.” Go home and do it, for you may never have another opportunity. “I should like to have my Sunday-school class around me once more before I die, to tell them about the Saviour more earnestly than I did this afternoon.” Dear brother, dear sister, avail yourself of your next opportunity in the class; teach as though you might never teach again. Say to yourself, “What is there I have left undone? I will do it immediately. What is there that is half done, that wants finishing? I must finish it at once. What is there that I have done so badly, that if I went to heaven I might almost wish to come back to set it right? Let me finish it now. What is there that I should like to amend? Let me make amends now.” I have read of Dr. Chalmers that one evening he stayed with a company of friends at a gentleman’s house, and they spent the evening, as we are too much in the habit of doing, very pleasantly, but not very profitably, talking upon general subjects, not at all to be forbidden, but at the same time not much to be commended. There was among the number a Highland chief, who had attracted Dr. Chalmers’ notice, and he had talked with him, but nothing was said about the things of God. In the middle of the night a bitter cry was heard in the hospitable habitation, and there was a rush to the bed-room, where it was found that the Highland chief was in the agonies of death. Dr. Chalmers expressed (and he was not a man whom we could blame for laxity in that direction) his bitter regret that he had allowed that last evening of the man’s life to pass over without having spoken to him concerning the things of God. The regret was most proper, but it had been better if it had never been necessary. Such a regret may have occurred to ourselves; do not let it occur again. If you do not die, the person whom you are concerned about may die, therefore, “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it,” for death may come on a sudden.

Remember solemnly that while we have been speaking in this Tabernacle we have been spending a part of our allotted time. Every time the clock ticks our time grows less, and less, and less. I have a great love for old-fashioned hour-glasses, because they make you see the time go, as the sands run. I remember in Milan Cathedral seeing the sun travel along the ecliptic line on the floor of the cathedral, and I realised time’s ceaseless motion. Every minute our life-candles are shorter; every pulse makes the number of pulses less. Quick, then, man; quick! quick! quick! Death is behind thee. Canst thou not hear his footfall? He pursues thee as the hound its prey. Quick! Quick with thy work and thy service, for soon may his skeleton hand be laid upon thy shoulder, to palsy thy hand of skill and silence thy tongue of eloquence for ever.

And let us recollect that when we die there is no return to the field of labour. I have known persons (and this is talking about a very commonplace thing, but it may be a very useful thing); I have known husbands who meant to make their wills in a proper way, and to provide for their wives as they should do, but they have died, and the will has been unmade, and the future life of the wife has been full of a sorrow which might have been avoided by the proper use of the pen. Do not leave anything undone which ought to be done; leave nothing undone which may be for the good of others, for you cannot come back to do it. Anything you have to do for the glory of God, get it done at once, for you will not be able to return. I fancy for a moment how I should preach to you if I should die to-night, and should be allowed to come back to preach to you once more. I know how you would listen. It would be a very strange sermon, but you would catch every word, I am sure. I know how I should preach; I should say, “Blessed be God for letting me come back to have one more trial with my unconverted hearers, for perhaps they may yet be led to Jesus.” I do not think I would have anything to say to you who are converted, that morning, if I had that opportunity. I should leave the ninety and nine and go after the sheep that is gone astray. I should preach to the lost one, and salt my words with tears and burn my lips with flaming love. Yet that is exactly how we ought to preach always.

Now put it to yourselves. If you had to die and were permitted to come back to speak once more to your children, to your neighbours, to your Sunday-school class, or to any one else committed to your care, how would you address them? Do it just that way now; with the same ardour, zeal, and tenderness. Do you say you cannot? That is very likely. Ask God to help you. His grace waits to aid you; it is what you want, and what you must have in order to succeed. Seek it, seek it at his hands who giveth liberally and upbraideth not. In such fashion must every one of us go about the work allotted to us, because there is no work nor device in the grave to which we are journeying.

Our text has a peculiar bearing upon some persons. May I be happy enough to catch their ears. There are persons here present, perhaps, who have a very heavy charge upon them, and to them the text speaks. I am one of that company. With the heavy charge of this church, the college, and the orphanage, and I know not what besides, I hear a voice saying to me, “Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.” It would ill become me to loiter; above all men I must labour. Some of you have wealth: permit the text to speak to you also,-“Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might,” for thou canst not take thy money with thee, neither canst thou serve God with it when thou art gone, “for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest.” Some of you possess much influence, for you are large employers. And I know some-I need not go into details-whom God has placed in peculiar positions, where they lead and guide the minds of others. I charge you by the living God, do not let the blood of any man’s soul be on your skirts. Quit yourselves with holy diligence before him who will weigh you in the scales before long, lest it be said of you, “Thou art weighed in the balances and found wanting.” By the blood that bought you, I beseech you, if the Lord has trusted you with ten talents, put them out to interest, lest a tenfold judgment come upon you. I know not how to speak as I would, but I feel I am speaking most of all to myself here. I charge thee, O my heart, be faithful to thy trust. It were better for me that I had never been born than that I preach to these people carelessly, or keep back any part of my Master’s truth. Better to have been a devil than a preacher playing fast and loose with God’s word, and by such means working the ruin of the souls of men. To other preachers I say what I have said to myself, and to each one of you whom God has put in solemn charge,-see to it that what he gives you to do, you do with all your might.

Next, I speak to those of you who are advanced in years. If you have hitherto done much for Christ, be thankful for it. But if you have not, if you have loitered, oh, my dear brethren, may I, who am as it were but a youth compared with you, may I take an old man by the hand and say,-Dear brother, there can be for you here, in the order of nature, but a short time to serve God in. Do immediately with all your might what you can do. Let your last days, if they have not the vigour of your youth, at any rate have a yet more eager desire for God’s glory. It would seem a strange thing for a man to get nearer to heaven and to be less heavenly minded, to be more ripe for glory as to his age, and to be less mature in grace. O that ye may live while ye live, and bear a good testimony during life’s eventide.

Do I speak to those who have been lately converted, and are past middle age? At what a rate, my dear brothers and sisters, ought you to live! Remember, Martin Luther was converted quite in middle life, but he did a great work before he died, and many a distinguished servant of God has begun late, but has worked well, and made a good day’s work of it before his sun went down. There is no reason why you should not copy the example. God can do much by you, though your time be short.

Then I also address myself to those of delicate constitutions who may be here. Some of you must often be reminded of death by the trembling you feel in your own bodies. I do not exhort you to do anything that would injure your constitutions by imprudence, for God does not require us to be suicides, but whatever service it is in your power to do, do it, so that there may not be mingled with the sorrow of your future sickness any reflection upon yourself because when you had the power to serve God you did not use it.

I would also speak to those who have been the subjects of high impulses and noble thoughts. There are choice spirits in the world, into whose ears the Holy Ghost whispers grand designs such as he does not reveal to all men. Here and there he finds a soul that he makes congenial to himself, and then he inspires it with great wishes, deep longings, and grand designs for glorifying God. Do not quench them, brother; do not starve them, by holding them back, but as death is coming, do what is in thee, and do it with thy might. No man knows what God means to do through his agency, for oftentimes the very feeblest have conceived the greatest purposes. John Pounds and his ragged-school-who was John Pounds? A poor cobbler. Robert Raikes, with his Sunday-school-who was Robert Raikes? Nobody in particular, but nevertheless Sunday-schools have come to something. You may have a sublime conception in your soul. Do not strangle it; nurse the heaven-born thought for God, and the first opportunity you can find, carry out the idea to its practical issues, and throw your might into it. Methinks there must be some young Christian here who loves his Master, and who means to do something for him before he dies. Brother, what thou doest, do quickly. Do I not address some young man of a noble spirit, who feels, “I could be wealthy, I could gain a position in my profession, I could become famous and get honour for myself, but from this hour I will lay all down at the foot of the cross, and lay myself out for the good of souls and the glory of God.” Give me thy hand, my brother, for thou and I are of one mind in this. But I charge thee go and do it. Do not dream, but work. Do not listen to the sirens which would enchant thee by their music and draw thee from the rough sea of duty. Launch forth in God’s name, yield thyself up to the winds of heaven, and they will bear thee straight on in the course of devoted service. The Lord help thee to do with thy might what thou findest to do.

And, lastly, there is a peculiar voice in the text to those who will die in the next few days-those here present, I say, who will die within the next few days. “Well,” say you, “and who are they?” “Ah,” say I, “that I cannot tell you.” It may be the speaker, and it may be you into whose eyes the speaker’s eyes are gazing now. Here are within this house to-night not less, I suppose, than six thousand persons; and, according to the averages of human life, a certain number of us will, in all probability, be in another world within a very short space of time-say, within a year. Yes, and to some one of us the angel may be sent to-night! Now, to that man or to that woman the voice of the text is very strong-“Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.” Thou hast only three days to live; thou hast only a week to live; thou hast only a fortnight to live; thou hast only three weeks to live, finish, then, thy labour for thy Lord. “Ah,” say you, “if I were that man, I should be very busy the next three weeks, and very earnest in prayer.” As you do not know but what you may be that man, go act in such a manner. Set your house in order, draw near to God; seek to glorify his name; live in the bosom of Christ, and whether you die or not, it will make no difference to you; for you to live will be Christ, and to die will be gain, and so you will be satisfied whichever way it may be. O brethren, we have not, most of us, begun to live yet. I feel very often like the chicken in the shell, which has chipped its shell a little, and begun to see that there is a great world outside. We have not as yet begun to serve God as he ought to be served. The divinely born manhood within us, the divine life which God infuses, is it not sadly clogged and hampered? May God set us free, and raise us up to the highest standard of a consecrated life, and his shall be the praise for evermore. Amen.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-Ecclesiastes 9

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-Psalm 18, version 2., 694, 520.