One is struck with the personality of this text. There are two persons in it, “ye” and “me”-that is to say, the labouring one and the tender Saviour who entreats him to come that he may find rest. It is most important, if we wish to see the way of peace clearly, to understand that we must each one come personally to Jesus for rest-“Come unto me, all ye that labour”: and that coming on our part must be to a personal Christ. In effect he says, “Come yourselves to me. Come not through sponsors, not through men whom you choose to call your priests, not through the petitions of ministers and teachers, but come yourselves, for yourselves.” Dear hearers, the quarrel is between you and God, and this quarrel can only be made up by your approaching the Lord through a Mediator: it would be folly for you to ask another to come to the Mediator for you: you must trust in him yourself. Personal faith is indispensable to salvation.

But the personality of Christ is equally clearly brought out in our text. Jesus says, “Come unto me”-“not to anybody else, but to me.” He does not say, “Come to hear a sermon about me,” but “come to me.” He does not say, “Come to sacraments, which shall teach you something about me,” but “come to me”-to my work and person. You will observe that no one is put between you and Christ. The text is, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden”-not to somebody that will stand between you and me, but “Come to me at once, and without a gobetween.” Come to Jesus directly, even to Jesus himself. You do want a mediator between yourselves and God, but you do not want a mediator between yourselves and Jesus. Christ Jesus is the Mediator between you and the Father; but you need no one to stand between you and Christ. To him we may look at once, with unveiled face, guilty as we are. To him we may come, just as we are, without anyone to recommend us, or plead for us, or make a bridge for us to Jesus. We are to come distinctly to the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, whom God has ordained to be the way of access. I shall fail at this time in setting forth the gospel if I shall lead anybody to think that he can get salvation by going to church, or going to the meeting-house, or going to a minister, or going into an inquiry-room, or going to a penitent form. No, we are to go nowhere but to Jesus. You, as you are, are to come to Christ as he is, and the promise is that on your coming to him he will give you rest. That is the assurance of Jesus himself, and there is no deception in it. He will give you rest as surely as you come to him. What a blessing it will be if those who have no rest in themselves should find rest at once in Jesus while yet this sermon calls them. Why not? I hope many of you, my brethren and sisters, who have found rest already, will be praying while I am preaching, that the unresting ones may come at this good hour and find rest in Jesus Christ the Saviour.

You see there are two persons. Let everybody else vanish, and let these two be left alone, to transact heavenly business with each other. Jesus says to you, “Come to me.” Your answer to him, if it be, “Yea, Lord, I come,” shall be the means of bringing peace to your heart from this time forth and for evermore.

I want at this time to set forth the glory of the Lord Jesus Christ, who sends this pressing personal invitation to every labouring and heavy laden one in this place. I wish that I knew how to preach. I have tried to do so for thirty years or so, but I am only now beginning to learn the art. Oh, that one knew how to set forth Christ, so that men perceived his beauty, and fell in love with him at first sight. Oh, Spirit of God, make it so now. If men knew the grandeur of his gospel,-the joy, the peace, the happiness which comes of being a Christian, they would run to him: as flies seek after sweet fruits, so would men seek after the Saviour, if they did but know that sweeter than honey and the honeycomb is the word of his salvation.

I first call your attention to the value of the boon which in this text is set before weary, labouring men, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Rest of the heart is worth more than all California. To be at peace,-to be no more tossed up and down in the soul,-to be secure, peaceful, joyful, happy, is worth mountains of diamonds. A man’s life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesses: many a poor man is vastly happier than the possessor of wide estates, for peace comes not with property, but with content. The music of peace is not the jingle of gold or silver. Sweeter bells sound in the pardoned heart than ever wealth can ring. The herb called heart’s-ease often grows in tiny gardens, and happy is the man who wears it in his bosom. It is this boon which, for value, outshines the pearls and rubies which deck an Indian queen, which Jesus promises to give to all that come to him for it. Oh, rare peace which comes from the Prince of peace!

This, if a man gets it, is practically helpful to him in all the affairs of life. I say that, other things being equal, there is nobody so fit to run the race of life as the man who is unloaded of his cares and enjoys peace of mind. The man who is happily restful towards God is the man to fight the battle of life. I have known a man losing money on the market step aside, and, getting into a quiet place, breathe a prayer to God, and come back calm and composed; and, whereas before, in his distraction, he was ready to make bad bargains, plunge into speculation, and lose terribly, he has come back rested and peaceful, and has been in a fit frame for dealing with his fellow-men. I know this, brethren, having many cares resting upon myself, that when I can feel calmly restful and quiet before God, I am a match for anybody; but when once the spirits sink, and depression comes in, then the grasshopper becomes a burden, and a trifle frets the soul. Bring solid rest to the heart, and you have given the man a fulcrum upon which he may rest the lever with which he can lift the heaviest weight; but let him always be tossed up and down, and he has nothing to give him force. When a man is afraid to die, he may well be afraid to live. He who could not look death in the face-ay, that could not look God in the face, is a man who has a latent weakness about him that will rob him of force and courage in the heat of the battle. I commend to you, men and brethren, in this busy London, the precious boon of my text called “rest,” because it is not only a preparation for the world to come, but for the life that now is. The peace of God will serve both as arms and armour; it is both battle-axe and breastplate. It will be your heart’s comfort and your hand’s strength; it will be good for day and night, for calm and storm: it hath a thousand uses, and all of them are essential to spiritual well-being.

This rest is not found anywhere else but in Christ. Let me tell you what kind of rest it is, confessing that I now enjoy it and revel in it. It is rest to the man’s entire spiritual being. Conscience troubles us till Jesus speaks it into rest. Conscience looks back and cries, “Things are not right. You were wrong here, and wrong there, and wrong altogether: there is no rest for you.” Conscience keeps a day-book, and writes with heavy pen a gloomy record, which we read with alarm. “Tremble,” says conscience, “for you will see this record again at the judgment-day, and find yourself condemned by it to eat the fruits of your doings.” Men laugh and say they do not believe it; but they do believe it. Deep in their hearts they must believe it, for God hath a witness within which blurts out the truth. Conscience perpetually rouses some men, as a watch-dog wakes a slumbering householder. “Down, sir,” they say, “Lie down, lie down,” but this watch-dog of God in the heart will not lie down always: every now and then it begins to howl horribly, and the man cannot sleep as he wants to sleep. Even if you drug conscience it will have fits of barking in its sleep. Now, Jesus promises to those who come to him a peaceful conscience, which he will give through pardoning all the past, through changing the current of the man’s ideas in the present, and through helping him to avoid in the future the faults into which he fell in the days that have now gone by.

“Rest, weary soul!

The penalty is borne, the ransom paid,

For all thy sins full satisfaction made;

Strive not to do thyself what Christ has done:

Claim the free gift, and make the joy thine own;

No more by pangs of guilt and fear distrest,

Rest, sweetly rest!”

It is a grand thing to have rest of conscience. But then we have minds, and minds are troublous things. In these days of doubt it is not easy for a mind to get an anchorage, and keep it. Many are searching for something to believe, or, at least, they long to be quite sure that it would be the right thing not to believe. Minds are tossed about like ships at sea, or birds caught in a fierce gale. My mind was once in that state-drifted, carried along I knew not whither; I for awhile believed nothing, till at last it came to this-that I thought my own existence might be, after all, a mere thought. Having a practical vein in my character, I sat me down and laughed at my own dreams of non-existence, for I felt that I did exist. Up from the depths of doubt and unbelief I rose to feel there must be something sure. I cast my soul at Jesus’s feet, and I rested, and I am now perfectly content in mind. Thousands of us can say, “We know whom we have believed, and are persuaded that he is able to keep that which we have committed to him;” therefore we cannot leave the gospel. No new doctrines, no novelties, no scepticisms, no fresh informations, can disturb us now: at least, they can but breathe a surface-ruffling; all is calm in the soul’s deeps. Having found rest of intellect in the doctrine of Jesus, there will we stay till death and heaven, or the second advent, solves all riddles.

But then we have hearts. I hope we all have hearts; though some are so harsh and almost heartless. Men that have great, all-embracing hearts need a rest for their love. What a cause of trouble this heart of ours is, for it often clings to that which is unworthy of it; and we are deceived and disappointed, and heart-break crushes us. The tempting fruit, like the apple of Sodom, crumbles into ashes in our hand. Here then is rest and remedy for heart palpitations and the anguish of the breast. Let a man love Jesus, and he will crave no other love, for this will fill his soul to the brim.

“Him on yonder cross I love;

Nought on earth I else count dear!

May he mine for ever prove,

Who is now so inly near!”

Christ fills a man’s nature to the full. The incarnate Son of God once known gives rest of conscience, rest of intellect, and rest of heart: in a word, he brings complete satisfaction to the spirit.

Now, I do not know of any religion that offers perfect rest to the mind except the religion of Jesus Christ. Men go the world over to try and find this pearl of great price, but their quest is vain. I often talk with religious people who have no idea of being saved now, and finding rest at once, because they do not understand that Christ came to give immediate salvation to those who trust him. I spoke with one earnest soul a little while ago, and she said, “I have no rest.” I replied, “Have you believed in Jesus Christ?” She answered, “Yes.” “But,” I asked, “Do you not know that as soon as you believe in Jesus Christ, your sins are forgiven you, and you are saved?” “I did not grasp that,” said she. Yet that is the gospel-that whosoever believeth in Jesus is not condemned. He that believeth in him hath everlasting life, and is saved the moment he believes-becomes changed from the power of sin and made into a new man, possessing a new life which can never die. This assurance is worth getting hold of, and he that has it, let him hold it fast, and rejoice in it; yet it is not to be obtained anywhere except from the dear hands that were nailed to the wood. This rest can never come from any lips but those that prayed upon the cross, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” This, then, is the boon which is presented by Christ Jesus at this moment to all that labour and are heavy laden; if they will come to him for it, they shall have rest of soul.

Some in this place are panting for rest. In this great city there must be much trouble, sorrow, unrest, misery, and distraction. When I look on this congregation, I know that I could not bear to hear the tale of sorrow that would be unfolded if each man were to tell his inward anguish. We look cheerful, but many a cheerful face covers a sad heart. The weight of human misery is enough to make the axles of the earth to break. Oh, what a blessing it is that there is One who can lift us up-who can make the poorest to be better than if he were rich, and the sad to be happier than the merry, and the afflicted to be more blest than the prosperous. Jesus is here in our midst with hands loaded with mercy. May he prove his presence among us by giving rest to all those who came in here labouring and laden.

Thus have I spoken upon the value of the boon. Oh, Spirit of God, teach men its value!

Bear with me, in the second place, while I speak upon the largeness of the Saviour’s heart. Oh, that I could stand aside, and that he would come here himself and utter the words of my text with his own dear lips! “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden.”

See the persons whom he invites to come to him. None but a man of great soul would keep such company. If we would be merry, we choose merry company. Some folks I should be glad to be in heaven with, but I could dispense with their company here: for ten minutes with them on earth is enough to make one wretched. Only a generous spirit would say, “Come to me, all you that are downcast-all you that are desponding-all you that are broken-hearted.” Yet that is exactly what the text says. Christ courts the company of the sorrowful, and invites those who are ill at ease to approach him. What a heart of love he must have! Nay, he invites all such to come. You know two or three that are really cast down are quite enough at a time for most of us. It happened some months ago, when I was sitting here to see people, that I had four or five cases so sad-so deplorable-in which I could render such little help, that, after trying to pray with them, and encourage them, I said to a friend who was helping me, “I hope the next that comes to me will be cheerful, for I feel my head ache, and my heart too!” I tried as far as I could to enter into these poor people’s troubles till I became troubled myself. Now, the Saviour has such a large heart that he does not forbid the sorrowing ones to come, all of them. “Come one,” says he, “come all. All of you that labour and are heavy laden may at this hour come to me.” The love of my Master’s heart is so great, and the sympathy of his nature with man is so deep, that if all should come that ever laboured or ever sorrowed, he would not be exhausted by the sympathy, but would still be able to give them rest in himself. But what a large heart Jesus has that he comes only to do men good, and begins by doing good first to those that want it most. Oh, my lords and ladies, Jesus did not come to win your patronage that you might applaud him. Oh, ye gay and high-flying ones, Jesus did not come to win your approbation. It would be a small thing to him for you to think well of him. But, O ye despised and rejected, ye oppressed and down-trodden; ye weary, ye worn, ye sad, ye sick, ye desponding, ye despairing, the great Physician of souls came after you, and it is to you he addresses the invitation at this time: “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Come, such as you, and come all of you.

And, he says, come at once. He does not say, “Stop till you get your spirits raised, stop till you get some measure of relief;” but come just as you are. There is a notion in some people’s minds that they cannot believe in Christ till they are better. Christ does not want your betterness. Will you only go to the physician when you feel better? Then you are foolish indeed, for you do not want the physician when you are getting better. The best time to apply to a physician is when you are as bad as you can be; and the time to come to Jesus is when you are so bad that you cannot be worse. You had better come just as you are: he invites you so to do. “Come,” says he, “all ye that now labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Stay not to improve yourselves, but come to him for improvement. If you cannot come with a broken heart, come for a broken heart. If you cannot come with faith, come for faith. If you cannot come repenting, come and ask the Lord to give you repentance. Come empty-handed, bankrupt, ruined, condemned, and you will find rest. Oh, you that have written out your own sentence, and have said, “r shall perish; there is no pardon for me:” come to Jesus, for-depths of mercy!-there is pardon even for you. Only come you to the Saviour, and he will give you rest.

He promises this rest to all who come to him. My Master stakes his credit upon every case that comes to him. He has already given rest to thousands, to millions; and he promises to each one that comes to him that he will give rest to him. If there is in this place, if there is in this country, if there is in this universe, a single person who ever did come to Jesus Christ and he did not give him rest, I would like to know of it, because it is my daily habit to declare that Jesus gives rest to all that come to him, and I do not want to declare a lie! Let us know when Jesus fails. He says, “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out:” the first one of you that comes, and he casts you out, let us know of it. We will post it up on the Royal Exchange,-“A sinner came to Jesus, and he would not receive him.” Woe to the world in that dark day, for the sun of hope will be quenched and the night will miss her stars. Till then we beg you to remember that Jesus has said, “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.” Come and test my blessed Lord, and see if he does not accept you. We stake the veracity of Christ, we stake the truth of the gospel upon the case of every one in this place who will come to Jesus Christ by faith, and trust him. Each heavy-laden one must and shall find rest if he will come to Jesus, or else the Redeemer’s promise is not true.

Thus have I spoken upon the largeness of our Lord’s heart in promising rest to all that come to him for it.

But now, thirdly, and but a moment, let me speak to you about the blessedness of his power. Our Lord Jesus Christ is able to give peace to all that labour and are heavy laden. He has not outrun his power in the promise that he has given. He is conscious that within himself there resides a power which will be able to give peace to every conscience.

Notice there is no reserve made whatever, no way is left of backing out of the promise. “Come unto me,” says he, “all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” No limiting clause is inserted. Some men will speak what looks to be a very wide promise, but a little condition inserted in it narrows it horribly; but there is no condition here. Whoever of woman born that labours and is heavy laden, and will come to Christ, must have rest; and Christ has said it because he can give it. There are desperate cases among the myriads of troubled hearts, but no single one is too far gone for Jesus. You have read the story of John Bunyan in “Grace Abounding.” Was there ever a poor wretch that was dragged about by the devil more than poor John was? For five years and more he could not call his soul his own. He did not dare to sleep, because he was afraid he should wake up in hell; and all day long he was troubled, and fretted, and worried with this, and that, and the other. Poor tinker that he was, he first thought this, and then thought that; and as he says, he was “considerably tumbled up and down in his mind.” I am sure such a case as that would have been given up by men; but when Jesus took it in hand John Bunyan found perfect rest; and his blessed “Pilgrim’s Progress” remains a proof of the joy of heart which the poor tinker found when he came to rest in Christ. Now, if within these walls there is a case in which poverty combines with sickness and disease, and if that poverty and disease are the result of vice, and if that vice has been carried on for many years, and if the entire man is now depressed and despondent, like one shut up in an iron cage, yet the Lord Jesus can give rest in such a case. It matters not how black or horrible is your condition, if you believe in Jesus you shall be delivered. As far as this trouble of soul is concerned, and as far as the venom of sin in your nature is concerned, you shall be healed. You shall be made pure, though now you are filthy: you shall be restored, though now you are fallen; you shall be started again in life by a power that shall cause you to be born again, so that you shall be as though you were a little child commencing life again, only under happier skies and holier influences. My Lord and Master has a power to comfort which reaches to the uttermost of human necessity. Some go a long way in sin and doubt, but they cannot rush beyond the uttermost, and therefore they are within the bounds of grace. Let the wind drive the bird far off the shore, yet the Lord hath a rest for it in another land. Still does Jesus bid us sound the great trumpet, and ring out the notes both clear and shrill,-“Come to me! Come to me! Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Blessed shall those ears be that hear the sound if their hearts obey it, and come to Jesus, and find rest at once. He is able. He is able to give rest. He is willing to cause joy. Doubt no more.

Jesus speaks thus without reserve because he is conscious of power; for note this:-Jesus Christ is God, and he that made men’s hearts can make them all anew. The God at whose bidding sprang that mighty arch of the blue sky, who poured out the sea from the hollow of his hand, and named the stars in their hosts, is able to save unto the uttermost them that come to him. This blessed God took upon himself our nature and became man, and being found in fashion as a man he took men’s grief and sin upon him, and went up to the cross loaded with it, and there suffered in our room and stead, to make expiation for our guilt. There is such merit in his precious blood that no sin can ever overpower it. I can see man’s sin before me: it towers aloft, defying heaven; it rises like an awful alp shrouded in a tempest of ill. It seems to thread the clouds, to overtop the stars. Oh, mighty mountain, what shall become of thee? But, lo! I see Christ’s precious blood and merit like an ocean of grace poured forth to cover sin. Comparable to Noah’s deluge, the power of the Atonement is revealed till, twenty cubits upward, the tops of the mountains of our sin are covered, and not a speck of them remains; while on the top of the waters rides the ark of everlasting salvation, and all that believe in Jesus are safe, and safe for ever. Oh, sinner, Christ is able to cast your sins into the depths of the sea, so that they shall never be mentioned against you any more for ever, and thus he will give you serenest rest. “Come to me,” says he, “and I will give you rest.”

I wish I knew how to put this so that it would get into men’s hearts; my Master knows that he can save you, for he had reckoned up every possible case before he spoke so positively. His prescient eye discerned all men that have ever lived, or that ever shall live, and he perceived you, dear friend, whom nobody else knows. You up in the corner there, whom nobody understands, not even yourself-he understands you, and he is able to give rest to your eccentric mind. He meant this promise to ring down the ages till it reached you. We have nearly completed the nineteenth century; but if ever we should get to the one hundred and nineteenth century, his power to give rest will be still the same. Still will he cry,-“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Oh, the vastness of my Master’s power, that in all ages, and all places, to all the children of man, he promises perfect rest of heart if they will but come to him! Will not you come at once and test that power? Oh that the Holy Ghost may incline you to do so!

Now, fourthly, and this is a very important point, I want you to notice the simplicity of this invitation. It only says, “Come to me, come to me, come to me, and I will give you rest.” The call is, as we say, plain as a pikestaff: it has not a fine word in it. What is the way of salvation? If any minister replies, “I should want a week or two to explain it to you,” he does not know the way of salvation; because the way of salvation which we need must suit a dying man, an illiterate man, and a guilty man, or else it will be unavailing in many cases. We need a way of grace which will answer all occasions-a mode of salvation suitable to all conditions.

Our Lord Jesus Christ proves how willing he is to save sinners by making the method of grace so easy. He says, “Come to me.” “Well,” says one, “how am I to come?” Come anyhow. If you can run, come running; if you can walk, come walking; if you can creep, come creeping; if you can only limp, come limping-come anyhow, so long as you come to Jesus. “But what is coming to him?” says one. “If he were at York, I would walk to York to-night to get at him.” He is not at York any more than he is here. We are not to come to him with our persons, or with our legs and feet by a visible motion. How, then, can we come to him? Listen, you friends in the front gallery, how can I come to you, and yet stand here? Why, by thinking about you, knowing about you, and then confiding my thoughts to you, as I am now doing. If you over yonder are a business man, I resolve in my mind that I will commit my affairs into your hands; and in so doing I have mentally come to you. We are to do with our Lord Jesus just what we do with a physician. We are very ill; it is a bad case. We hear that a certain eminent doctor has great skill in one particular disease; so at once we go to him. Our physical going is not so much required as our mental resort to him, by putting our case into his hands. We say to him, “Sir, here is my afflicted person. I will tell you all about my state as far as I know it. Ask me any questions. I will make a clean breast of all. Whatever you prescribe for me I will take; whatever regimen you lay down as to diet, I will follow. I place myself entirely in your hands because I have faith in your skill. You cured my mother of this disease; you cured my brother; and I believe you can cure me.” Such is faith in Christ. A man says, “Jesus, thou hast died to save men, and thou hast revealed thyself as a Saviour. I want saving. Thou hast saved a great many like me; I now put myself into thy hands. I will do what thou biddest me, I will follow any directions thou mayest lay down, I confide myself to thee.” Now, if this is a genuine surrender, and a hearty confidence, you are already a healed man. Your power to trust Christ is evidence of spiritual sanity: you would not have been able to trust the blessed Jesus if a sound work of restoration had not already commenced in you.

“Oh,” says one, “do I understand, then, that if I trust Christ, I may do as I like?” Stop, stop. I never said that. Hearken, and learn! Here is a ship which cannot get into the haven. The pilot comes on board. The captain says, “Pilot, can you get her into harbour?” “Yes, captain, I will guarantee it. I will guarantee that I will get the ship into harbour if you leave her with me.” The captain goes to the helm, or gives orders as to steering the vessel, and at once the pilot objects that they are not trusting to him. “Yes, I am,” says the captain, “and I expect you to get me into harbour, for you promised to do so.” “Of course I did promise,” replies the pilot; “but then it was understood that I should take charge of the ship for the time being.” He orders the helm to be changed, and the captain declares that it shall not be done. Then cries the pilot, “I cannot get you into the harbour, and I will not pretend to do so. Unless you trust me I can do nothing, and the proof that you trust me is that you obey my orders.” Now, then, trust Jesus, so as to be obedient to him, and he will pilot you safely. Yield yourself up to follow his example, to imitate his spirit, and obey his commands, and you are a saved man. Your ship shall not be driven out to sea while Jesus steers it; but do not go away under the delusion that you have only to say, “I trust Christ,” and that you are saved directly. Nothing of the kind. You must really trust him,-practically trust him, or there is no hope for you. Give yourself up to Jesus, renounce your old sins, forsake your old habits, live as Christ will enable you to live, and immediately you shall find peace to your soul. You cannot enjoy rest, and yet riot in sin. Shall the drunkard have rest, and yet drown his soul in his cups? Shall an adulterer have rest, and wallow in his filthiness? Shall a man blaspheme, and have rest? Shall a man be a rogue and a liar, and have rest? Impossible. These things must be given up by coming to Jesus Christ, who will help you to give them up, and make a new man of you, and then you shall receive rest in your soul. Come to him, then, in spirit and in truth. Oh, that you would come to him while I am speaking, and find instantaneous rest to your souls!

I must not keep you longer, and so I want upon the last point briefly to call your attention to the unselfishness of the Lord Jesus Christ. “Come unto me,” says he, “and I will give you.” That is the gospel, “I will give you.” You say, “Lord, I cannot give thee anything.” He does not want anything. Come to Jesus, and he says, “I will give you.” Not what you give to God, but what he gives to you, will be your salvation. “I will give you:” that is the gospel in four words. Will you come and have it? It lies open before you. Jesus wants nothing of you. Suppose you were to become Christ’s disciple, and serve him with all your might throughout your life-in what way would that enrich him? He has died for you: how can you ever pay him for that? He lives in heaven to plead for you, and he loves you; how can you ever reward him for that? Our hope is not in what we can give to him, but in what he gives to us. Weak-minded men have taken pleasure in flagellating themselves, starving themselves, shutting themselves up in monasteries, lacerating their bodies, and torturing their minds: to what purpose were these pains? Did the loving Jesus require this of them? Could such miseries afford his tender heart the least pleasure? Not at all. He has no pleasure in human misery, but he desires that his joy may be fulfilled in us that our joy may be full.

I see before me a spring-head, from which the clearest crystal water is always leaping with a gladsome sound. A streamlet which this spring creates runs down the meadow: you can track it by the long grass, with reeds, and rushes, and tangled wild-flowers which drink their life therefrom. In summer and in winter the crystal fount never ceases to pour forth its treasures. Come hither when you may you shall see the silver jet spurting forth, and splashing up again from the stones upon which it falls. How musical the sound! Listen! The spring is pleading, quietly but plaintively. It would become a greater blessing if it could but gain the means; and so it sighs and whispers,-Buckets! Pitchers! Goblets! Cups! It longs to fill them all. See, here are a couple of pails; but they are empty. Yes, they are all the better for the purpose; full buckets would not help the spring to dispense its water. Here is a cup, but it is a very little one. Never mind, fill it, and bring many like it. This girl has brought a jug, but it is spotted with dirt. We bid her take it away, lest she pollute these sparkling waters. Not so, the spring pleads, and this is its pleading-“Bring it hither, I will cleanse it, and then fill it to the brim.” Need I expound the parable? I hope not. Come and act it out, ye little ones or great ones, ye empty ones or unclean ones. Thus shall ye know more surely and more sweetly than words can tell you how free and full is the grace of our Lord Jesus. The emptier you are the better can you receive from our overflowing Saviour. He longs to bless you for your own sake. His yearnings are all unselfish: they are yearnings to give, longings to bestow favour. He cries even now to labouring and laden souls-“Come unto me, and I will give you, not only rest, but all you can require.”

Friends, have you well learned the lesson that there is nothing good in yourselves wherewith to attract Jesus, but all the good is in him to attract you? Is it not clear enough that physicians do not come to heal healthy persons? I saw a brougham dashing down the street with a doctor in it, and I felt morally certain that he was not coming to my house, for I am in perfect health. I dare say he was hastening to see a poor creature who was on the brink of the grave. When I see the chariots of mercy flashing with winged steeds through the air I know that they are not speeding to you who are good and righteous, and think you do not need a Saviour; but they are hastening to such as are sinful and crave forgiveness, to such as are guilty and require a change of heart, for these are those that Jesus comes to bless. See, then, how the unselfishness of his character comes out in his inviting to come to himself those who cannot benefit him, but must be pensioners on his bounty.

“I will give you rest.” Men, brethren, women, sisters, all of you, this is the final word. The day is coming when we shall all sigh for rest. We need it badly now, and if we have it not we are leading a pitiful life. Those poor rich people in the West-end that have no Christ, how can they bear their irksome idleness, the satiety and disgust of un-enjoyed abundance? Those poor people in the East-end that have no Christ-what they do without him I cannot tell. Alas for their poverty and suffering, but what are these to their wretchedness in being Christless? Those of us who have all that heart can wish yet feel that we could never be happy if we were not resting in our dear Saviour; how, then, do the starving exist without him? But we shall soon die, and what then? A young man said to his father some little while ago, “Father, I am prospering in business wonderfully! if I get on at this rate what will it come to?” “Come to a grave,” said his father. And so it will; all things of earth end there. Oh that we were always ready to die, for then we should be ready to live! He that is ready to live to-morrow is ready to die to-morrow. There is no need that death should be a jerk in our existence; life ought to run on as a river pursues its way, and widens into the sea. Our existence here should glide into our existence there, but that cannot be unless we get on the right track while we are here. If we are on the right track now, which is believing, loving, fearing, serving, honouring God, we shall go on loving, fearing, honouring God for ever and ever. “Come,” says Christ, “Come to me.” What will Jesus say at the judgment-day to those who so come? Why, he will say, “Come”-“Come, ye blessed of my Father. Keep on coming. Come, and inherit the kingdom prepared for you from before the foundations of the world.” Ah, my hearers, you will prize this coming when death and eternity are near you.

I am glad to see this great company gathered here; but before I came into this house I felt much heaviness of heart, and it has not gone from me even now. To stand here and look into familiar faces from Sunday to Sunday is infinitely more pleasant than to look upon so many, the most of whom I have never seen before; for you cause me new anxieties that I may do good to you also. This was my thought: “I shall see them all again at the judgment-day, and I shall be accountable as to whether I preached the gospel to them with all my heart.” I shall not have to answer for the blood of you all, because there are more Sabbaths than this one, and more opportunities of hearing the gospel than this; and on other Sundays others preach to you, and these share the burden; or else you waste the holy day, and in that case your blood will be on your own heads. Still, for this one service I must answer to God for you all. If I have not preached Jesus Christ simply and plainly, and from my heart, if I have been cold, and dull, and dreary when speaking upon a theme that might arouse any man to burn and glow with seraphic flame, then I shall be censurable by him that shall judge the quick and dead. If you think there is nothing in what I have said, reject it. I have no authority to preach it of my own head, for I am no great philosopher. I speak in the name of God, and if you think I do, and believe that God has sent me, then I beseech you to lay hold of the truth which has been held up before you. The most important thing a man can do is to attend to that which is most important: your soul is of more importance than your body, and therefore your eternal life ought to secure more attention than your mere temporal existence. A man said the other day that he should die like a dog. Let him, if he likes, but I have no ambition in that direction; I want to live like an angel. If any man be content to be a dog, well, I know not what I can do for him but give him a bone: I did not know that he would care to come here, or I might have sent to the butcher’s for fit provender. But he that wishes to live for ever should, at least, consider where he would live, with whom he would live, and how he can secure happiness in such a life. If there be a God-and that there is a God is written on the very skies-I devoutly desire to have him for my friend. I think, as I look up to the stars, “I love the God that made those shining worlds, I worship him, I desire to serve him, I wish to be at peace with him.” And what has made me desire to serve him and obey him? Can it be a lie which has done this? Does a lie make a man love God, and desire to serve him? No. It is truth, then, that has made me of obedient heart. The gospel must be true, or it could not thus put men right with their Creator. O, my beloved, trust your Saviour! Lay hold on Jesus. Oh, may Christ lay hold on you at this good hour, and cause you to enter into his rest. Amen and amen.

Portion of Scripture read before Sermon-Romans 10.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-495, 615, 503

“WITHOUT CAREFULNESS”

A Sermon

Delivered at the Thursday Evening Lecture, by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington.

“I would have you without carefulness.”-1 Corinthians 7:32.

At the time when Paul wrote these words he was giving judgment as to whether it was expedient for Christians in those days to marry. The question was whether they were likely to be better Christians married or unmarried. This was a question of much delicacy, and Paul answered it with remarkable discretion and fidelity; and in so doing he laid down a great general principle, which is of much more value to the church to-day than Paul’s private opinion about the matter of marriage or non-marriage. Paul tells us that concerning virgins he had no commandment of the Lord, but gave his judgment as one that had obtained mercy of the Lord to be faithful: he did not speak in this case as under divine inspiration, but as an experienced and consecrated man giving his judgment for the good of others, and for the benefit of the great work so dear to him. In that capacity Paul’s words are by no means to be despised. I had far rather follow the uninspired advice of Paul than that of any other man. In mental clearness none ever excelled that consecrated man. But he spoke under inspiration beyond all question when he gave this as his reason for desiring that they would remain unmarried-“I would have you without carefulness,” or as the Revised Version reads it, “I would have you to be free from cares.” This is the mind of the Holy Ghost as well as the mind of the apostle Paul. This is a text, not for Paul’s time alone, but for our time, and for all time.

The general principle in our text I will endeavour to open up before you. We who have believed are the servants of Christ, and are no longer at our own disposal. We are not our own, for we are bought with a price. If you look back in the chapter, at the twenty-third verse, you find a statement to that effect. Hence our business in life is to serve him who has redeemed us. This one occupation should entirely absorb and engross us. Everything, therefore, which helps us to serve the Lord Jesus better is a good thing; but everything which hampers and hinders us in the main business of our life, though it may be good enough for others, is bad for us. The chief work of the Christian is to glorify God, and to this chief work everything must be subordinated. If a thing be lawful to me, and yet, while lawful, it hinders me in the service of God, it is not expedient; and therefore I am to renounce it. No man ever succeeds in anything who does not give himself wholly to it: it matters not what it is, concentration is essential to perfection in any pursuit. He who would be eminent in any one direction must forego a great many other things which are perfectly allowable; these he must renounce for the sake of his one object. He will not succeed unless he sacrifices all other things to the one chief thing. So must it be with the Christian. The rule of his life is to be, “This I will not do, this I will not enjoy, this I will not allow to myself, because I could not serve God so well with it; and my business is to keep myself in the best possible form for doing my Master’s work.” We are to labour as much as ever we can for our Lord, and all other result of life must be to us as chaff to the wheat.

It is with us, Paul tells us, as with a soldier. A soldier is a man who must not open shop, or become a banker or a farmer. He must not think of settling quietly in the town where for a while he is billeted. Why not? The reason is clear: even if there be no war occurrent at the time, yet no man that warreth entangleth himself with the things of this life if he would please him who has called him to be a soldier. Soldiering requires the man to be altogether a soldier, and it cannot afford to let him be a tradesman or a farmer: he must not hamper himself with that which would hold him to the spot, and prevent his hastening to the field. The nation needs that its army be ready for any and every emergency, so that when the trumpet blows the regiment marches, the troop-ship steams across the sea, and the foe is confronted promptly. It is necessary that the soldier keep himself in marching condition, and the less luggage he has to carry the better. So it is with the Christian: he is to aim at a condition best adapted for his holy warfare. He is not to be satisfied when he has said to himself, “Is this right, or is this wrong?” He is to go further. I hope that many of us have long passed beyond that stage, for we have a judgment and discernment which tell us at once what is right and what is wrong; but we now ask a still higher question,-“Will this help me to glorify God, or will it not?” This is the enquiry of the higher life, and a godly man is careful in the answering of it. The best thing is bad if it hinders our vocation. Though the garment were made of silk, bespangled with jewels, and bedight with golden thread, yet must we as racers lay it aside if it would entangle us in our running. Though the burden were a bag of pearls, and every pearl were a king’s ransom, yet if we are to run-and none can win but those that run-we must leave that bag of pearls in another’s keeping, for our business is with the crown before us, and we must lay aside every weight, and the vesture of sin which does so easily entangle us, that we may run with patience the race that is set before us.

At this time the apostle says to us-I would have you without carefulness as to earthly things; and this because he would have us full of carefulness as to heavenly things. He wants us to be free from cares, that all our thought, anxiety, meditation, suggestiveness, inventiveness, burden-bearing may go towards the service of our divine Lord. We have only a certain measure of mind, and he wants all of it for the Lord Jesus, that we may walk worthy of our high calling. But towards other things he says, “I would have you without carefulness.”

How are we to be without carefulness? This must be the work of the Holy Ghost, for he is the Comforter, and the helper of our infirmities; but as far as we are to work with him the question needs a careful reply. How are we to be without carefulness?

I answer: we may hopefully attempt this in the power of God, first, by avoiding those states which involve carefulness. Mark well, it is not given to many to select their place in life. More or less it may be committed to us to turn to the right or to the left on certain occasions, but men and women are thrown into certain conditions in which it may be their duty to abide in their calling, though it may surround them with special difficulties. That calling may be one which ordinarily involves a vast amount of care and anxious thought, and yet they cannot get out of it. They ought not to leap the hedge which the Lord has placed along their way, for if they do they may fall into a ditch on the other side, and mire their garments, and so make matters worse. By crying to God for help, and trusting in his sure word, they will be able to bear the burden which God has put upon them, and it is their wisdom so to do. Yet there are points in which we are allowed a choice about the state in which we would place ourselves, and here our text comes in as a rule of action.

Paul, in the case before us, is talking about the marriage of Christians, and he bids Christians, in the first place, not to marry; for, says he, “I would have you without carefulness. He that is unmarried careth for the things that belong to the Lord, how he may please the Lord: but he that is married careth for the things that are of the world, how he may please his wife.”

Now, observe the condition of affairs which led Paul to give this advice. Times of great persecution were present. Christians were continually being dragged into court, or set before the lions in the amphitheatre, or shut up in prison, or put to cruel deaths: in such circumstances few would desire to have families about them. The Christian man who had no wife or child could flee in a moment if it was right to flee; or when he stood before the bar of Nero he had not to think within himself, “If I die, I leave a wife and fatherless children.” When the single man put on his hat he housed all his family, and thus he could move this way or that way to preach the gospel, or to escape from persecution, and his moving was no great affair such as would be involved in transporting a family from land to land. Paul wished the church to be like an army which is not encumbered with baggage: the circumstances of the time demanded that they should be unencumbered, like troops upon forced marches. Paul himself carried all his property done up in a little bit of canvas, and it consisted of half a dozen needles and a reel of thread, with which he made tents wherever he went. He was thus without carefulness. In those hard and desperate times it was the best possible thing that a man could do, or a woman either, to remain single: they were thus in the best condition for flight, or suffering, or service, or death. It was not a time in which they could settle down, and engage in trade or agriculture; and he therefore gives as a recommendation that they had better not then be married. If we get into such times again we will give the same advice, but we are not certain that we should speak thus to-day, as a general rule. The circumstances are decidedly different, and we are to follow the great principle rather than the particular instance. I have known brethren who I am sure had a great deal more care before they were married than ever they had afterwards. Poor things that they were, they wanted somebody to look after them. I have known cases in which women have had great care and burden in their single state, and have found rest in the house of a husband; and it has been upon the whole the best for them in the truest sense: they served God better, and were freer from carefulness in the married estate. That is the rule to judge by. But numbers of you never judge at all in this way. Many men and women rush into marriage when they know that it must involve them in all sorts of care and trouble, and deprive them of the possibility of doing anything in the Master’s service. It is not for me to offer advice, for it is useless. I am often asked for advice, but I generally find that people have made up their minds long before they come to their minister, and only want him to sanction what they have already settled; and therefore I very seldom give any counsel. Still, I shall lay down the general principle, which every Christian man and woman must accept-“I would have you to be free from cares.” You are to put this to the front, that you are not your own, you are bought with a price; and about this matter of marriage, as well as everything else, you are to consult the will of your Lord and Master, and you are to put this as the question, “Shall I glorify God better married or unmarried? May I hope that I shall not so greatly increase my carefulness as to distract myself from serving my Lord? There is something to be said on each side, but may I hope that the balance may be struck so that I shall really be the better servant of Christ in the marriage state? If so, I may enter upon it; but if not, I am not to gratify myself at my Saviour’s expense. I may not marry if I should then cease to be as good a servant of Christ as I am now.” None of you are too good servants of Christ: I have never met with any that were. We cannot afford to lose anything which we have already, for we are not even now all that we ought to be. No, we must give ourselves whole-heartedly to Christ, and remember the admonition of the text, “I would have you without carefulness.”

We have got over that somewhat difficult part of our road which is concerned with marriage. We come to another which is very plain, but needs to be spoken of; namely, the matter of increased worldly business. Some forget this advice of the apostle altogether, regarding it as a check upon enterprise: such persons take up a number of businesses, and consequently increase their cares indefinitely. Now, if you can serve God better by having a dozen shops, have a dozen; but I have known persons whom God blessed in one shop, and they lost the blessing when they must needs open two or three. In a moderate business they obtained a livelihood and all that they could want, and they were able to get out to the house of God, and to have spare hours for the service of God in the Sunday-school, and in preaching, or other forms of Christian service: thus they were in an enviable position for usefulness, and ought to have been pillars in the house of the Lord. But they were not content with a state so favoured. Nothing would do for them but they must have shop number two-three-four, and then, of course, they were too busy to go out on week-evenings, to lectures, classes, or prayer-meetings. When invited to take their part in the Lord’s work, they replied,-“You see, I cannot get out; you must excuse me, I am so tied.” Just so. Of course you must look after business now that you are so immersed in it, but how came you to get into such a state of bondage that you cannot get out to the worship or service of God? Is not your excessive toil your own fault? If you have brought yourself into such a condition that you cannot give to God his due, is it an excuse for your not being able to do it? The disability is entirely of your own creation, how can it excuse you? If this were the time, I could mention persons who were members of this church whose departure from the way of righteousness was owing to a grasping spirit; and that grasping spirit has in certain cases led to a foolish rush after riches, which has ended in poverty and discredit. They had as much as they could have managed, but they wanted more, and more, and more; and to get more they ventured upon ways and methods which were questionable. By-and-by the means of grace were neglected because they must attend to business. Very soon, for the same reason, they could not get up on a Sunday morning: they were so tired; they did not get the shop shut till twelve, and then there was clearing up till half-past one, and they could not get out on a Sunday morning. Worse than that, after a while they just looked over the ledger a little on Sunday afternoon. Soon the very vitals of godliness were gone, and not long after that, the name to live went also; for the power of godliness had entirely departed from them. “I would have you without carefulness,” and therefore to the most enterprising brother I would say,-Brother, do not fill your pocket at the expense of your soul. Do what is best for the best part of yourself; and that best part of yourself is the soul which deals with God and eternity. God can prosper you and make you exceedingly happy with a more manageable business, and he can make you miserable if you wilfully increase your cares. The Lord Jesus said, “A man’s life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth.” Therefore, as I would have you without carefulness, look well, my dear friend, before you launch out into that new affair, or take that off-hand farm, or enter upon that speculative operation. Do not wade into risks so deep that you will be drowned in anxiety. Remember how Napoleon tried to do too much, and did it, and did for himself. Men of large capacity may rule an empire, and yet serve the Lord admirably, but the most of us had better be satisfied with a smaller sphere. At any rate, let us not heap up such a load of our own that we shall not be able to bear the burden which our Master would have us carry for his love’s sake. Do not look so cross, good friend, or I shall think that my advice is more needful to you than it is pleasing. The day may come when this warning will be better understood by you than at this moment.

Some Christian men need to have a touch on the elbow about public engagements. For my part, I believe that everything which concerns a man concerns a Christian, and that God never wished his servants to leave the government of this realm to all the place-hunters and unprincipled self-seekers who look for a seat in Parliament. Christian men ought to see to it that right is promoted and justice done. To abandon law-making to the worst of men would be infamous. So with everything which concerns the public weal: I believe that we are to turn the scale for truth and righteousness, and are not to let the devil have his way, and give jobbery and oppression the run of all the parishes in England. But there is a limit to a man’s acceptance of public office, and let that limit be watched carefully by all the Lord’s children. Let the rule be; first our God, and then our fellow-men. What if I be a patriot, yet first of all the New Jerusalem is the place of my citizenship. I am a pilgrim and a stranger; and even though I seek the good of these aliens among whom I dwell I must still keep my eye upon my own native country, towards which I am speeding. A man must not be doing twenty things in public life, and neglecting the calls of the Lord Christ. If he does this he will have care upon care, and will weary and trouble himself with things of no profit, and he will not care for the things of God as he should Brethren, “I would have you without carefulness:” ye are the servants of God; do not make yourselves the slaves of men.

Here I wish to say another word to some whose occupations prevent their attendance at the house of God. I am not going to censure or judge any, but I will say this: whenever I hear of a young man who has a situation with a moderate salary, who is able to get out to worship, and has the whole Sabbath-day to himself, so that he can help in the Sunday-school, and perhaps in some week-evening engagements, if I hear that he is offered twice as much money in a place where he must be shut out from worship and service, I hope he will look long before he makes the bargain. If part of the Sabbath must go, and all week-night privileges must go, I would in most cases say, “My brother, forego the temporal advantage for the sake of the spiritual.” There may be exceptions to rules, and I lay down nothing as a hard-and-fast rule, but still let this be the general guide in such matters,-“I would have you without carefulness.” If it be so that he who has less has less care, let me have less. He who has a moderate income, with small responsibility, is a richer man than he who has twice as much, with twice as much responsibility, and only half as much opportunity of serving his God. For you, Christians, the best place you can have is where you can do most for Jesus; and the worst place you can have is where you are denied Christian privileges. No amount of salary can make up to you the disadvantage of being kept from the assemblies of the saints, or can make up to your soul the loss sustained by excessive labour in the house of bondage. “I would have you without carefulness.”

This bears very hard upon all those forms of speculation of which some men are so fond. A man says, “I believe that I can get rich in a hurry by a certain venture.” Do not touch it. You will have no end of care, and it may bring absolute poverty upon you. You have heard of the man who hasted to be rich, and was not innocent. I am afraid that few are long innocent who haste to be rich. They clutch at everything on a sudden, and they are apt to include in that clutch a few things which do not belong to them. What devouring care must prey upon those whose trade is as risky as a throw of the dice? When business is mere gambling it ceases to be legitimate. Let speculators take heed of those dangers which necessarily attend all games of chance. I believe that every form of gambling, though it may take a business shape, tends more or less to harden the heart. As for the naked form of play, which risks upon the roll of a ball, it is murder to all the finer feelings of the heart. Nobody but gamblers could have cast the dice, all blood bespattered, at the foot of the cross of our Redeemer. Gambling brings men into a state of heart worse than almost any other form of sin. When a man is willing to risk his all practically on the mere toss of a halfpenny whether goods shall go up or down, he is usually a bad man, and if he is not he will be so before long; for that kind of thing does serious mischief to the tenderest tissues of the heart. If any Christian man attempts it, what a state of mind will he soon know! Can he pray? Can he meditate? Can he commune with the Lord Jesus? Can he be without carefulness? Where can be his trust? Where his faith in God? When he has practically committed his fortunes to the devil, how can he confide in his God? Gambling and prayer can never go together, except in the case of the reprobate: I suppose they are profane enough to unite the two, but therein they blaspheme heaven most detestably. Brethren, abstain from those things which inevitably create undue excitement, anxiety, and suspense. I speak as unto wise men; judge ye what I say: I would have you without carefulness, and therefore I would have you avoid those states which involve it.

Secondly, by keeping away from those objects of pursuit which would naturally foster it, I would have you without carefulness.

When a man makes the gaining of riches the first thing in life he cannot be without carefulness. Where his treasure is, there will his heart be also. There is the carefulness to get, the carefulness to hold, the carefulness to place out at interest, the carefulness to collect dues, and so forth. Ay, and this may be the case even with poor people, who may be as full of greedy care as the millionaire. Thrift is commendable; but covetousness is detestable. Men not only lay by for a rainy day, which is well; but they make saving the main object of their lean and hungry lives, and God’s glory and man’s needs are alike forgotten. Now, if you live for anything but God-especially if you live to hoard up, with the determination that somehow or other you will be immensely rich, you must be full of carefulness: it cannot be helped.

Suppose that you are of a nobler spirit, and you live with the view of gaining honour among men: you will with equal certainty be full of cares. I hope you will not say, “I must be honoured. I must have my neighbours think well of me; and I will make a slave, or a fool, or a hypocrite of myself to please them.” This resolve is detestable, and if you go into that line you will not be without carefulness, I can tell you; and with all your carefulness you will never succeed. To please everybody is as impossible as to make ice and bake bread at the same moment in one oven. Give up the wretched attempt. Be a man, and be not a mere man-pleaser. How blessedly easy I feel in my work for God! But I owe that ease to the fact that I have no one to please but my Lord. When I preach, the last thing that ever occurs to me is to ask myself whether any of you will like it or not. It is no wish of mine to give offence; but it has never occurred to me to think whether you will be offended or not. I do not think you would respect me if I made my preaching an occasion for seeking to please you. If it pleases God it will please you, if you are right; and if you are wrong, and it does not please you, well, it never ought to please you. This enables a preacher to give all his mind to his subject; the opposite feeling would distract him, and make him live the life of a toad under a harrow. Go into life in just that kind of spirit. Do everything to please your fellow-man if it will do him real good. Never be ungenerous, nor unkind, nor un-courteous; but never live to please the world. No slave is so slavish as the wretch who draws his breath from other people’s nostrils, and can only live if he be approved by his neighbours. Scorn such servitude. I would have you without carefulness, and you cannot be without carefulness if you seek to please men.

Many persons are so ambitious to be very respectable that they never will be without carefulness: they have a pound coming in but they spend a guinea to be respectable, and so they cannot be without carefulness. I charge you do not care about being what is known in the world as “respectable.” Be Christians, whether people respect you or not. That littleness which stamps out everything that is good or brave, in order to put a man into the fashion, is to be the object of our supreme contempt. Do the right. Serve God. Live for heaven. Care little about man’s esteem. Abhor the pride of life. Live above the world, or you will be eaten up with carefulness: it cannot be helped.

Some persons have a favourite object in life-not God, but an earthly thing; and these cannot be without carefulness. Dear mother, love your children by all manner of means, but if that little one has become an idol, I am sure you cannot be without carefulness. I have known mothers kill their children because they did not want them to die. That is to say, they never let the wind blow on them, they kept them in a bandbox, screened the blessed air of heaven from them, and so brought them up that they became weak and sickly, thanks to their mothers’ indulgent care. Lots of children have suffered a martyrdom from too much nursing, and excessive carefulness has created cause for care. If it is not a child, if it is anything else that becomes the pet and hobby of life, you will soon find that you have plenty of care about it: a horse, a dog, a flower, a painting, may entangle men and women in nets of care. I have seen it, and lamented it. The more objects you set your heart upon, the more thorns there are to tear your peace of mind into shreds. I know people who dread every puff of wind, and every shower of rain, because a yacht might be tossed about, or a garden-party spoiled: such trifles may sensible people be troubled about. “What are we to do, then?” says one. Why, live to God live to God wholly. Put every thing else into its true place. Children, business, every favourite pursuit-leave them in the hands of God, for until you do this you will be cankered with carefulness of one kind or another, and be incapacitated for the joyful service of the Lord your God.

Thus have I given you two helpful rules: first, avoid the states which involve carefulness, and secondly, avoid the pursuits which involve carefulness. May the Spirit of God help you to carry them out.

But now, thirdly, and better still, I would have you without carefulness by exercising a childlike faith in the ever-blessed God.

He sends you troubles and trials, but be without carefulness, first, by never trying to anticipate them. Never meet them half-way. “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” Oh, the strength it gives a man when he learns to pray, “Give us this day our daily bread”! It would be a poor prayer if a man should cry, “Lord, give me a guarantee of my bread for six months.” No, no; the Lord never taught us to ask for that: that forestalling of the demands of the future finds no petition written for it. Our Lord would have us cultivate the feeling that whatever the necessity of the day, whatever the requirement of the day, whatever the trial of the day, we shall take it to God as it comes, and he will there and then meet the case. Commit your way unto the Lord, and then be without carefulness.

I will now tell you something better still. If you can manage to live by the five minutes, that is better than living by the day. I am not tonight, at twenty minutes past eight o’clock, allowed to fret myself about what is likely to happen at ten. I have grace at this time for the present moment, but not for ten o’clock; why, therefore, should I hurry towards a trouble for which I am not yet prepared? Leave ten o’clock worries till ten o’clock comes. The hour that brings the trial will bring the strength. The hour that tests you will find God ready at your hand to help you. Live by the day: ay, live by the hour.

The next thing is, if you would be without carefulness, be quite content with the Lord’s will. Suppose you do not prosper in business as you would like, be content not to do so. Do your best, and leave your prospering in the hands of God. Suppose that after consulting a physician you find that your complaint is not removed; duly follow all right and wise prescriptions and directions, and then leave your health with God. With regard to those you love, when you have prayed for their restoration, and they are not restored, then say still, “Not as I will, but as thou wilt.” If you cannot suit your purse to your wishes, bring your wishes to your purse. Higher still, if God does not give you all your desires, do the other thing-submit all your desires to God. When your desires and God’s decrees agree all will be well. Whether God gives you your wish or you give up your wish will make no notable difference. You will be equally happy so long as your will is God’s will, and God’s will is your will. And I believe-and I speak experimentally-that, when you are racked with pain, if God teaches you to submit-and it is often a hard lesson-you can suffer in every limb, and yet sing in your inmost soul. This is the way to live without carefulness,-first, not to meet trouble before it comes; and, next, when it does come, to be content, saying, “It is the Lord: let him do what seemeth him good.”

The next thing is to be quite sure about the love of God. He cannot make a mistake, and he cannot fail his people. If the worst thing, as it seems to us, should happen, it must be the right thing, because God has sent it. Be sure also that when our needs come, God’s supplies will come too. The Lord is bound by his own promise to provide for all the real necessities of those who trust in him. Oh, that we did thoroughly know God, and did fully believe in him! Then would our peace be as a river, and our joy like that of birds when the sun is rising. Then should we sing-

“I have no cares, O blessed Lord,

For all my cares are thine;

I live in triumph, too, for thou

Hast made thy triumphs mine.”

Another sweet thing would help us to be without care, and that is, fully to believe in the power of prayer, and in the fact that God does actually answer it. God will grant his children’s desires, and answer their prayers. We constantly meet with instances in which God does most manifestly come to the help of those that walk before him aright. I personally met this week with a notable case. A dear sister is left a widow, with three children. She wonders what she shall do for the morning’s bread. There is none in the house. She bethinks herself that she formerly kept shop, and that she has a few goods left, a little stained and soiled, but still saleable at a price. She goes into her room, and prays God in her agony of soul to direct her to a customer. To her delight a person asks her whether she kept shop once, in such and such a road. Yes, she is the individual. Such goods as she used to buy at the shop this person cannot get anywhere else, and she much needs them. Could she tell her where she could get the like? Yes, these are the very goods that she had hoped to sell, and though a little soiled and stained the enquirer is glad to have them. The very person who wants them has come to buy them before she has crossed the threshold to seek a customer, and she is amazed at the goodness of the Lord. This honest woman is told that it was a mere coincidence: she says that she knows nothing about coincidences, but she blesses the Lord that her wants were supplied for the time, and she means to trust him for the future. I did not attempt to alter her resolution to rely in future upon God in time of trouble: on the contrary, I cheered her in it, for I would have her without carefulness. When my grandfather was a young man, before my days, he had a great family and a small income. He had a cow that he kept for his children, and he went to fetch it up from the meadow, and when it was near the house it was taken with “the staggers,” and died. My grandmother said, “There, James, what shall we do now through the winter without the cow?” He replied, “My dear, God has provided for us, and he always will, though I do not know how;” and with a heavy heart he went to pray and lay his trouble before the Lord. I have heard the dear old man tell how that morning brought a post-letter, with ninepence to pay; and grandmother said, “Troubles never come alone. Here is ninepence to pay for this letter. Shall we take it in?” But when she did take it in, it brought twenty pounds from a society in London, to which the good man had never applied. He could not make out how they knew of him at all; but the Lord knew, and led them to send the money on the day of his greatest need. These stories are a few out of many that are in my wallet, instances which I have gathered in my pilgrimage: I have seen enough, in my own lifetime, to fill a volume concerning the goodness of the Lord in answer to his children’s prayers. When you are as sure that God answers prayer as I am sure of it then you will realize the meaning of the text, “I would have you without carefulness.”

Some people of my acquaintance are full of carefulness. I know a maiden lady now who possesses what many poor people would think to be wealth. She has a fixed, regular, and ample income, but she will not spend it because she must first save a certain sum. At first her ambition was to have enough in hand to bury her. Why, she has enough already to bury twenty of her; but she keeps on nipping and screwing still, and whenever you meet her she talks of how little she eats, and how dear everything is. She might live in plenty, and have something for the cause of God; but instead of that she has always an awful story about her expenses. I believe that if she were made into Empress of China she would be afraid that there would not be enough tea grown in China for her to drink. She is of such a spirit that she is a burden to herself, and a plague to all who are about her. When you once give way to grumbling and grasping, then you are careful, and careful, and careful, till you become good-for-nothing in the service of God. Do, I pray you, brothers and sisters, try to get rid of this disease, for your fretful carefulness will make you a misery to yourself and to your friends; it will destroy your power to do good; and it will cut off your communion with God; for, if you do not trust God, God will not walk with you. I do not care to have a man of my acquaintance who does not believe in me. I cannot bear him if he is always mistrusting me. And so it is with God: he will not commune with you or smile upon you, if you will not trust him; but if you will leave everything with him, and believe that your heavenly Father knows best, you shall have many a kind word from his lips, and you shall find what a good, gracious, loving Father he is. Why, you and I ought to be as happy as the birds of the air, and as merry as crickets on the hearth; for what a God we have, who will take care of us both in this life and in the life to come! All things are ours-the gifts of God-the purchase of a Saviour’s love. Even our troubles are the best troubles in the world. Our cross is a heavy one; but it is the best cross for us. Each man has the cross which best befits him. You could not carry mine, and I could not carry yours half so well as my own. Despite your peculiar trials, you are a happy and a favoured man, and God has dealt infinitely better with you than you ever deserved or could have expected. Praise him, then, and bless his name. Get out of the fidgets, brother, if you can. Get out of the worries, my dear sister. You are a good, dear housewife; and your husband says if he could get a little of the Mary into you, and a little of the Martha out of you, you would be a perfect wife. Is not this a practical suggestion? Let us see whether we cannot, each one, be improved by trying to be without carefulness.

Let us each one give all our thought and care to this one object-How can I please God? How can I avoid sin? How can I be holy? How can I win sinners to Christ? How can I comfort my fellow-Christians? How, in a word, can I live as Christ would have lived? You never find Jesus worrying. If he weeps, it is for the souls of men; if he suffers, it is to redeem men from going down to the pit; and if he dies of a broken heart, it is a broken heart about the sins of others. As for himself, what a delicious carelessness of holy confidence there was about him! He went on board ship, and he knew that a storm would come, a storm that would try the poor little boat, but he lay down and slept. The disciples are all in a worry. They cry “Master, we perish!” And where was their Master? Asleep! You have often thought of the sleep of the Saviour, and almost deemed him negligent. Now, think of the grand confidence of the Saviour in being able to sleep in a storm. If his disciples had been asleep too it would have been the best thing they could have done, for they could not manage the winds or the waves. If they had possessed the moral dignity which ennobled their Lord, and had been able to go down into the hinder part of the ship and to go to sleep with him, they would have woke up in the morning in a calm. The best thing you, my dear brothers and sisters, can do in a great trouble may be to remember that text, “So he giveth his beloved sleep.” Pray over your difficulty, and then go to sleep, and wake up and find it all over, for the Lord has wrought a great deliverance for you. I knew one well who was always in trouble about how he should die. Dear good man, he refused to be comforted, but was often troubled about the horrors of the departing hour; until one night he went to bed, and shut his eyes on earth, and opened them in glory. He never knew that he was away from earth till he knew that he was in heaven, for he died in his sleep; and so it turned out that he had been worrying himself about nothing. Leave everything with God. If I can trust my soul with him, I am sure I can trust my body with him: if I can trust my eternal condition with him, cannot I trust him with a matter of a five-pound note? What, rest on Christ for glory, and not rest on Christ for bread! Come, come; the Lord get you out of that low, unbelieving state. I am nearly at a close, and so I press upon you my text. Like Paul, “I would have you without carefulness.” May you be so through the power of the gracious God who taught the apostle Peter to say in the Spirit, “Casting all your care upon him, for he careth for you.” Amen.

Portions of Scripture read before Sermon-Psalms 23. and 24.

Hymns from “Our Own Hymn Book”-691, 699, 700.