Or, as some read it, “The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” So that the text is not only concerning the past, but it may rightly be considered as relating to the present also. Some of the rarest pearls have been found in the deepest waters, and some of the choicest utterances of believers have come from them when God’s waves and billows have been made to roll over them. The fire consumes nothing but the dross, and leaves the gold all the purer. In Job’s case, I may truly say, with regard to his position before God, he had lost nothing by all his losses, for what could be purer and brighter gold than this which gleams before us from our text, revealing his triumphant patience, his complete resignation, and his cheerful acquiescence in the divine will? “The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

There are two points to which I ask your earnest attention while we meditate upon this subject. The first is the exhortation drawn from the text,-learn to see the Lord’s hand in everything, in giving and in taking; and, secondly,-and this is a harder lesson,-learn to bless the Lord’s name in everything, in giving and in taking.

First, let us learn to see the Lord’s hand in everything.

Our whole history seems to be divided, as our text divides itself, into a beholding of God’s hand in giving, and then a beholding of it in taking.

We are then, first of all, to behold God’s hand as a giving hand. If we are believers, all the comforts and mercies that we have are to be viewed by us as coming from the hand of our gracious Heavenly Father. Job confessed that the Lord had given him the camels, and the sheep, and the oxen, and that the Lord had given him his seven sons and three daughters; everything which he had ever possessed he looked upon as having been the gift of God. Job did not say, “I worked hard to obtain all that stock that I have now lost.” He did not complain, “I spent many weary days and many anxious nights in accumulating all those flocks and herds that have been stolen from me.” He did not ascribe any of his wealth either to his own wit or to his own industry, but he said of it all, “The Lord gave it to me.” In his mind’s eye, he took an inventory of all that he once had, and of all that he had lost, and he said of the whole, “It was all the Lord’s gift to me.”

Now, beloved, whatever may be the possessions which you have at the present time, whatever may be the number of those who are the comfort of your life,-husband or wife, parents or children, kinsfolk of any sort,-say of all of them, “The Lord gave them to me;” and, as a Christian, learn the wisdom of never ascribing any earthly comfort to any earthly source. The worldling may not always be able to say what Job said concerning his possessions. Some of what he has may not have been obtained honestly; the Lord did not give any of that to him. Some of what he has may turn out to be a curse rather than a blessing; but the believer in Christ may say, with the utmost truthfulness, with regard to all that he has, “It is all the gift of my loving and tender Heavenly Father.”

And, brethren, there is associated with this fact that all our possessions are God’s gifts, the remembrance that they are all undeserved gifts. They are gifts in the fullest sense of the word the gifts of God’s grace. They are not given to us because we have merited them, for we have never deserved even the least of all the mercies which the Lord hath so bountifully bestowed upon us. We may say of the whole river of his favour, which flows continually side by side with us as we journey along the pathway of our pilgrimage, that there is not a drop of it which comes to us of debt or by law, but all comes through the free gift of God’s grace. All that we have, over and above what would have been our portion in the pit of hell, is the gift of God’s mercy towards us. It is of the Lord’s mercy, and because his compassions fail not, that we are not consumed. Every believer can truly say, with Job, “ ‘The Lord gave,’ yes, the Lord gave even to me, an-unworthy one who sat as a beggar at his gate, and received from his own hand countless tokens of his infinite lovingkindness.”

And I may add, with regard to these gifts, that they have been given to us with wondrous kindness and thought fulness on God’s part. Some here, I think, will have to say that they have found themselves provided for by God’s forestalling their wants. He has gone before them in the way of his providence, and mysteriously cleared a path for them. Before they have felt the pinch of poverty, the pinch has been averted. There are others of God’s servants here, who have sometimes been brought very low, yet they can bear witness that, hitherto, their bread has always been given to them, and their waters have been sure; and while God’s mercy comes to us very sweetly when forestalling our need, there is equal sweetness if it comes when the need has been felt. No food is so palatable as that which has hunger for its sauce. To know what it is to be poor, will make us more grateful if God ever gives us abundance. But time would fail me to tell all the love and care of God towards each one of us, every day of our lives, and to recount how he not only continues but even multiplies his favours. It is impossible for us to count them, for they are more in number than the hairs of our head, or the sand on the seashore, or the stars in the midnight sky.*

Now, as everything we have is freely and graciously given to us by God, this should make us feel, in the first place, that this truth sweetens all that we have. I daresay there is many a little thing in your house that is of no great value in itself, but it was given to you by someone who was very dear to you. How much a child values that Bible that was given to her by her mother, who wrote her name in it! Many a man has, in his house, things which an auctioneer would appraise at a very small amount, but which the owner prizes very highly because they were given to him by someone whom he greatly esteemed, and who gave them to him as a token of his love. In like manner, look at the bread on the table of a believer as a love-token from God. The Lord gave it to him; and if there were upon his table nothing but that bread, it would be a token of God’s gracious condescension in providing for his needs. Let us learn to look thus at everything that we receive in this life, for such a view of it will sweeten it all. We shall not then begin to calculate whether we have as much as others have, or as much as our own whims or wishes might crave; but we shall recognize that all we have comes from the hand and heart of our Heavenly Father, and that it all comes to us as a token of our Father’s love, and with our Father’s blessing resting upon it.

This fact should also prevent any believer from acting dishonestly in his daily avocations, or even from wishing to obtain anything that is not his own by right. All of you, who belong to God, have what God has given you; so mind that you do not mix with it anything that the devil has given you. Do not go into any worldly enterprise, and seek to gain something concerning which you could not say, “The Lord my God gave it unto me.” Men of the world will engage in such transactions, and they will say that you are not as sharp as you might be because you will not do the same. But you have a good reason for refusing to gain even a shilling upon which you cannot ask God’s blessing. A sovereign, dishonestly procured, though it might gladden your eyes for a little while, and help to fill your purse, would certainly bring a curse with it, and you do not want that. You would not like to have to confess to yourself, concerning anything you possessed, “I dare not tell my Heavenly Father how I got it, though he knows; and I dare not ask his blessing upon it, nor do I think he would ever give it to me. He will probably turn it into a rod, and sharply scourge me for having dared to use such unholy means to get what I ought not to have even wished to possess.” Some of God’s people might have been very happy if they had not been greedy and grasping. He that hasteneth to be rich will soon find that he will fall into many snares and abundant temptations. It is an evil thing when people cannot be content although they have enough for all their necessities, for even the world’s proverb says that “enough is as good as a feast.” Yet many stretch out their arms, like wide-encircling seas, and try to grasp in them all the shore. Such people, sooner or later, begin to rob others right and left, and very many of them come down to poverty and the Bankruptcy Court, disgraced and dishonoured. Let it not be so with you, beloved, but be ye content with such things as ye have, whether God gives you little or much; and, above all things, pray that you may have nothing but what he gives you, nothing in your house or shop but what comes in at the front door in the light of day, nothing but what may be seen coming in if any eye should be watching. That man is truly happy who can say of all his substance, be it little or be it much, “The Lord gave it to me.”

Further, as it is the Lord who gives us all the wealth that we possess, how very foolish are those people who are proud of possessing a little more of this world’s wealth than others have! There are some, who seem to be thoroughly intoxicated by the possession of a larger income than their neighbours enjoy. They even seem to fancy that they were made of better material than was used in the creation of ordinary mortals. Did not a broad grin appear on the faces of many aristocrats when someone said, in Parliament, that we were all made of the same flesh and blood? Of course, all those, who were in their right senses, knew that it was true; but insanity in high places seemed to be moved to utter contempt at the bare mention of such a thing. When a man is poor, unless he has brought his poverty upon himself by extravagance, or idleness, or his own wrongdoing, the man is a man for all that, and none the worse man for being poor. Indeed, some of the best of men have been as poor as their Lord was. I have known many, who have been very poor, yet who have been the excellent of the earth, in whom a true saint of God might well take delight. There always will be various ranks and conditions among men, and there is a certain respect which is due from one to another which should never be withheld where it is rightly due; but, at the same time, whenever a man begins to say that, because God has given him more than he has given to another, therefore he will despise his poorer brother and look down upon him, it must be dishonouring and displeasing to God, and it is extremely likely that he will turn round, and make the proud man bite the dust. How often those, who have held their heads so very high, have been rolled in the mire, and how easily that might be made to come to pass with others!

A further inference arising out of this truth that God gives us all that we have, is that it ought never to be difficult for us to give back to God as much as ever we can. As he has given us all that we have, it is but right that we should use it to his glory; and if, under the rule of his grace, and under the gospel, he does not so much claim a return from us as a matter of right, but leaves our liberality to be aroused by the love which constrains us, rather than by the law which compels us; yet let us not give God less because he gives us more. Under the Mosaic dispensation, the Jew gave his tenth by compulsion, but let us willingly give to God more than that, and not need to be constrained to do it, except by the sweet constraint of love. Do I owe every penny that I have in this world to the bounty of God’s hand? Then, when God’s cause and God’s poor are in need, let no one have to beg of me to give to them. I always feel ashamed when I hear people say that we are “begging for God’s cause.” God’s cause has no need to be a beggar from those who would be beggars if it were not for God’s grace. Oh, no, no; it must never be so! We ought to be like the children of Israel in the wilderness, who gave so generously towards the building and furnishing of the tabernacle that Moses had to restrain their liberality, for they had already given “much more than enough for the service of the work, which the Lord commanded to make.” Let us try to imitate the liberality which God has manifested toward us in the gift of his well-beloved Son, and in all the covenant blessings which come to us through him. All those who have received so much from God should count it their privilege and delight to give back to him all that they can.

These reflections might suffice for this part of the subject, but I shall add one more. “The Lord gave;”-then we must worship the Giver, and not his gifts. How can we so degrade ourselves as to worship that which God has given to us? Yet you know that many make idols of their gold, their lands, their husbands, their wives, their children, or their friends. It is no unusual thing for a little child to be the god of the family; and wherever that is the case, there is a rod laid up in store in that house. You cannot make idols of your children without finding out, sooner or later, that God makes them into rods with which he will punish you for your idolatry. “Little children, keep yourselves from idols,” was the injunction of the loving apostle John, and he wrote thus in love, because he knew that, if God sees us making idols of anything, he will either break our idols or break us. If we really are his people, he will, in some way or other, wean us from our idols, for he wants our love to be given wholly to himself; so it is best for us to keep the creature in its right place, and never to let the joys or comforts of this life usurp God’s rightful position in our hearts. God has been pleased so to fashion the world that it should always be under our feet; and, as Christians, we should always keep it there. The dearest thing we have on earth should ever be estimated by us at its proper value as a gift from God but as nothing more than that; and never be allowed to occupy our heart’s throne, which should always be reserved for the Lord alone.

But now we are to think, for a while, of the Lord’s hand taking away from us as well as giving to us. Job said, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away.” Some of you have come to this service very sad and heavy of heart because that dear child of yours is dead. Well, I do not blame you for sorrowing over your loss, but I pray you also to remember that it is the Lord who hath taken your child away from you. You say that it was the fever that took away your dear one, and perhaps that was the immediate cause of your child’s death; but if you can realize that the fever was only the instrument in God’s hand to remove the dear little one from your care to his own, surely you will dry your tears. And as for that substance of yours, which has almost melted away under the fiery trial to which it has been subjected, so that poverty seems now to stare you in the face, you will be able to bear even that when you remember that it is the Lord’s hand that has taken away what his hand bad first given.

So long as we look at the secondary causes of our trouble, we see reasons for sorrow; but when our faith can pierce the veil, and see the Great First Cause, then our comfort begins. If you strike a dog with a stick, he will try to bite the stick, because he is a dog; but if he knew better, he would try to bite you, and not the stick. Yet that is the way that we often act with the troubles that come to us; we fly at the second causes, and so are angry and petulant with them; but if we would always recollect that it is God who taketh away, as well as God who gives;-that he is at the back of all our trials and troubles;-that his hand weighs out our share of grief, and measures our portion of pain, then we should not dare to rebel and bewail; but, like David, we should say, “I was dumb, I opened not my mouth; because thou didst it;” even if we could not get up higher still, and say, with Job, “The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

Further, when once we know that God has done anything, that fact forbids any question concerning it. It must be right because he did it. I may not be able to tell why, but God knows why he did it. He may not tell me the reason; but he has a reason, for the Lord never acts unreasonably. There never was any action of his, however sovereign or autocratic it might appear to be, but was done “after the counsel of his own will.” Infinite wisdom dictates what absolute sovereignty decrees. God is never arbitrary, or tyrannical. He does as he wills, but he always wills to do that which is not only most for his own glory, but also most for our real good. How dare we question anything that God does?

My dear sister, rest assured that it is better that you should be a widow, and seek to glorify God in your widowhood. My dear young friend, believe that it is better that you should be an orphan; otherwise, God would not have taken away your parents. It is better that you, dear friends, should lose your eyes; it is better that you should be poor, or diseased, or else the Lord would not let you be so, for “no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly.” If health and wealth were good things for you, God would let you have them. If it were a good thing for saints never to die, they never would die. If it were a good thing for them to go to heaven at once, they would go there at once. If you are walking uprightly, you may know that you have all things, which, all things considered, would be good for you. Some things, which might be good in themselves, or good for others, might not be good for you; and, therefore, the Lord in love withholds them from you. But, whatever he gives, or takes away, or withholds, raise no questions concerning it, but let it be sufficient for you that the Lord hath done it.

Besides, when we know that the Lord takes away our possessions, the knowledge that they are his effectually prevents us from complaining. Suppose you are a steward to a certain nobleman, and that his lordship has been pleased to entrust you with ten thousand pounds of his money. By-and-by, he withdraws it from your charge, and invests it somewhere else. Well, it never was your money; you might have complained if it had been. But you are only a steward, and if your lord pleases to withdraw his own money, are you going to be out of temper with your master because he does what he wills with his own? Suppose you have a banker,-and we are, as it were, the Lord’s bankers,-and suppose that, a week or two ago, you paid into the bank a thousand pounds, or more, and the clerks or those in authority were pleased to take charge of your money. But suppose that you went to the bank to-day, and drew it all out; they did not get angry with you. You would not like to have a banker who was only civil to you when you were paying in money; and if we are God’s bankers, he sometimes puts his treasure into our keeping, and sometimes takes it out; but it is not our treasure any more than our money is the banker’s when we entrust it to his care. It is on deposit with us, and we ought to be paying to God good interest upon it. Whatever God has given to us, he never gave it as our own freehold. It was always on a lease;-a lease, too, that had to be renewed every moment; for, if God chose to cancel it, he could do so whenever he pleased. How dare we then complain?

To use another figure, our position is like that of a nurse, into whose care a mother placed her babe, and the nurse dandled the child, and was glad to have the charge of it; but when she had to return it to its mother, she cried over the loss of the little darling. Yet it was not the nurse’s child, given to her to keep; it was only hers to nurse. So it was with your children whom God has taken home to himself; they were not yours to keep. The Lord put each one of them, for a while, into your charge, and said to you, “Christian mother, take this child, and nurse it for me, and I will pay thee thy wages;” so, when he called the child back to himself, why should you complain as though he had wronged you? Or, to use another illustration, which has been frequently employed in this connection,-a gardener had been specially careful in tending one particular rose, which was very fair to look upon; but, when he went, one morning, to his favourite rose-bush, he found that the flower, of which his had taken such care, was gone. He was very vexed, for he thought that some bad boy had stolen into the garden, and taken away his best flower. He was complaining very bitterly of his loss, when someone said, “The master has been down in the garden this morning, and he has been admiring this rose-bush, and he has taken away that fine bud of which you were so proud.” Then the gardener was delighted that he had been able to grow a flower that had attracted his master’s notice; and, instead of mourning any longer, he began to rejoice. So should it be with anything upon which we have set our hearts. Let each one of us say to our Master, “My Lord, if it pleases thee to take it, it pleases me to lose it. Why should I complain because thou hast taken from me what is really thine own?

“ ‘If thou shouldst call me to resign

What most I prize,-it ne’er was mine;

I only yield thee what was thine:

Thy will be done!’ ”

The second part of my discourse must be briefer than the first part, yet it is equally important. It is this, Learn to bless the Lord’s name in everything. Learn to ring the bells of his praise all day long; and, for the matter of that, all night long too.

First, bless the name of the Lord when he reveals his hand in giving. “Ah!” you say, “that is an easy thing to do.” So it ought to be, my brethren and sisters in Christ, and it is a neglect of our duty when we do not do it. We come down to our breakfast in the morning, rejoicing in health and strength, and we go out to our day’s engagements, yet I hope not without thankfulness that we are in health, and that we have food to eat, and raiment to put on. We are out all day, and things prosper with us, but I trust that we do not accept all this as a matter of course, but that we praise the Lord for it all the day long; and then, when we go home again at night, and God is still with us, I hope we do not fall asleep before we again praise him. John Bunyan used to say that the very chickens shame us if we are ungrateful, for they do not take a drink of water without lifting up their heads, as if in thankfulness for the refreshing draught. If we, who are the Lord’s children, do not bless him for the mercies which so constantly come to us from him, we are of all people the most ungrateful. Oh, for a grateful frame of mind, for I am sure that is a happy frame of mind. Those who are determined to murmur, and to complain of God’s dealings with them, are sure to find plenty of things to complain of; while those who are of a thankful spirit will see reasons and occasions for gratitude in everything that happens. Do you remember a touching story, told some years ago, of a poor mother with her two little fatherless children? On a cold winter’s night, they discovered an empty house, into which they went for shelter. There was an old door standing by itself, and the mother took it, placed it across a corner of the room, and told the children to creep behind it so as to get a little protection from the cold wind. One of the children said, “Oh mother, what will those poor children do that haven’t got any door to set up to keep out the wind?” That child was grateful even for such a poor shelter as that; yet there are some, who have thousands of greater blessings than that, and yet do not see God’s hand in them, and do not praise him for them. If that has been the case with any of us, let us turn over a new leaf, and ask God to rule it with music lines, and then let us put on them notes of thanksgiving, and say to the Lord, with David, “Every day will I bless thee; and I will praise thy name for ever and ever;” or say, with one of our old poets,-

“My God, I’ll praise thee while I live,

And praise thee when I die,

And praise thee when I rise again,

And to eternity.”

Praising God is one of the best ways of keeping away murmuring. Praising God is like paying a peppercorn rent for our occupation of our earthly tenement.* When the rent is not paid, the owners generally turn the tenants out, and God might well do so with us if he were like earthly landlords. If we are not grateful to him for all the bounties which we constantly receive from him, he may make the stream to stop, and them what should we do? Ungrateful mind, beware of this great danger! Thankfulness is one of the easiest virtues for anyone to practise, and certainly it is one of the cheapest; so let all Christians especially comply with the apostolic injunction, “Be ye thankful.” It is a soul-enriching thing to be thankful. I am sure that a Christian man, with gratitude for a small income, is really richer than the man who lives a graceless life, and is plentifully endowed with worldly wealth. David spoke truly when he said, “A little that a righteous man hath is better than the riches of many wicked.” So, let others do as they will, we say, “Give us, Lord, whatever thou wilt, whether it be little or much, so long as thou dost give with it the light of thy countenance, our souls shall be abundantly content.”

Thus are we to bless the name of the Lord for all that he gives us.

But it is a much more difficult thing to bless the name of the Lord for what he takes away from us; yet, difficult as it is, I venture to say that many believers, who have forgotten to praise God while he was giving to them, have not forgotten to praise him when he was taking away from them. I do not know how thankful Job had been before this trying period in his history, but I do know that his trials brought out this expression of his thankfulness; it is his first recorded praise to God. Some of us need to lie a little while upon a sick-bed in order to make us thankful for having had good health for so long; and we need to be brought low, and to have our spirits depressed, in order to make us grateful that we have had such cheerful spirits, and been blessed with so many comforts. It is not natural or easy for flesh and blood to praise God for what he takes away; yet this painful experience often wakes up the gratitude of the Christian, and he who forgot to praise the Lord before makes up for it now.

Brethren, praise is God’s due when he takes as well as when he gives, for there is as much love in his taking as in his giving. The kindness of God is quite as great when he smites us with his rod as when he kisses us with the kisses of his mouth. If we could see everything as he sees it, we should often perceive that the kindest possible thing he can do to us is that which appears to us to be unkind. A child came home from the common with her lap full of brightly shining berries. She seemed very pleased with what she had found, but her father looked frightened when he saw what she had got, and anxiously asked her, “Have you eaten any of those berries?” “No, father,” replied the child, to his great relief; and then he said to her, “Come with me into the garden;” and there he dug a hole, put the berries in, stamped on them, and crushed them, and then covered them with earth. All this while, the little one thought, “How unkind father is to take away these things which pleased me so much!” But she understood the reason for it when he told her that the berries were so poisonous that, if she had eaten even one of them, she would in all probability have died in consequence. In like manner, sometimes, our comforts turn to poison, especially when we begin to make idols of them; and it is kind on the part of God to stamp on them, and put them right away from us, so that no mischief may come to our souls. Surely that child said, “Thank you, father, for what you have done; it was love that made you do it;” and you also, believer, can say, “Thank God for my sickness, for my poverty, for that dead child of mine, for my widowhood, for my orphanhood,-thank God for it all. It would have been ruinous to me to have left me unchastened. Before I was afflicted, I went astray; but now have I kept his word. Blessed be his name for all that he has done, both in giving and in taking away.”

It is a grand thing when we do not judge God’s dealings with us simply by the rules of reason. From the first moment when the love of God is revealed to us, right on to the hour when we shall be in the presence of the Father in glory, we may depend upon it that there is infinite love in every act of God in taking from us, just as much as in giving to us. Jesus said to his disciples, “As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you.” The Father always loved Jesus with infinite love,-he loved him as much when he was on the cross as he did when he was on his throne. And, in like manner, Jesus always loves us with an unchanging love,-a love which can never fail us. He loves us as much in the furnace of affliction as he will love us when we shall be with him in glory; so let us bless his name, whether he gives or takes away. I invite every mourning soul here to bless God’s name at this moment.

“Ah!” says one, “I wish I could get a little more happiness to sustain me under my many trials.” Well, let me just remind you of the poor widow woman who went out to gather a few sticks to make a fire, that she might bake some cakes for herself and her son. When the prophet Elijah met her, what did he say to her? He told her to make him a little cake first, and afterwards, he added, “make for thee and for thy son. For thus saith the Lord God of Israel, The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the cruse of oil fail, until the day that the Lord sendeth rain upon the earth. And she went and did according to the saying of Elijah: and she, and he, and her house, did eat many days. And the barrel of meal wasted not, neither did the cruse of oil fail, according to the word of the Lord, which he spake by Elijah.” Notice that he said to the woman, “Make me a little cake first;” and God seems to say to you, “Praise me first, and then I will bless you.” Say, as Job did a little later in his history, “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” I believe it marks the turn of the tide, with a saint, when he can say to the Lord, with good old John Ryland,-

“Thee, at all times, will I bless;

Having thee, I all possess.”

The sky soon begins to clear when the Christian begins to say, “The Lord’s will be done;” “not as I will, but as thou wilt.” This is a sign that the chastisement has had its due effect; the rod will probably be put away now. Ye mourning souls, take down your harps from the willows and sound forth at least a note or two to the praise of the Lord your God. Praise him with such notes as these: “Truly God is good to Israel, even to such as are of a clean heart … I will not fret myself because of him who prospereth in his way, because of the man who bringeth wicked devices to pass.… O my God, I believe that all things are working together for my good, and that thou art my gracious Heavenly Father, full of compassion, and overflowing with love.” If you talk like this, Christian, and mean what you say, it will be a blessing to yourself, a comfort to others, and an honour to your God.

As I speak thus, I am reminded that these comforting truths belong only to true believers; and as I send you away, I dare not put the words of my text into all your mouths, for, alas! some of you cannot see our Father’s hand in anything that happens to you. You are without a parent, except that wicked one of whom Christ said to the Jews, “Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do.” Yet, remember, you who cannot claim God as your Father, that the door of his grace is not yet shut. He is still willing to receive you; if you will come to him, confessing your sins, and seeking mercy through the precious blood of Jesus, he is both able and willing to give you a new heart and a right spirit, to save you here and now, and to adopt you at once into his family. Then will you also be able to see his hand both in giving and in taking away, and you also will learn to bless his name at all times. If God the Lord shall deal thus graciously with you, his shall be the praise for ever and ever. Amen.

VANITY DEPRECATED

A Sermon

Published on Thursday, February 7th, 1907, delivered by

C. H. SPURGEON,

at the metropolitan tabernacle, newington,

On a Lord’s-day Evening, in the year 1864.

“Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity; and quicken thou me in thy way.”-Psalm 119:37.

There are divers kinds of vanity. In the play of the frivolous and the sport of the idle, we see but one sort of vanity,-light, open, and undisguised. The cap and bells of the fool, the motley of the jester, the mirth of the world, the dance, the lyre, and the cup of the dissolute,-these men know to be vanities; they wear upon their forefront their proper name and title. Yet another species of vanity, and more deceitful, can be discovered in the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches. A man may follow vanity as truly in the counting-house as in the theatre. If he is spending his life in amassing wealth, he is heaping to himself vanity quite as much as though he openly passed his days in vain show or empty pageant. All the fools do not dance or drink; all the fools do not make jests; full many there are, of sombre mood, who spend money for that which is not bread, and their labour for that which satisfieth not.

Moreover, there is such a thing as solemn vanity,-the vanity that may be seen among those who observe the empty ceremonials of religion, invest themselves with strange garments, and affect the odour of sanctity. Or, turning from the gorgeous fane to the lowly conventicle, vanity may even be discovered beneath the broad brim of the Friend who, seeking after the world rather than after Christ, thinks that he rebukes the world’s vanity, when the world may well rebuke his. Vanity, I say, is quite as certainly to be found among the sober as among the frivolous. Unless we follow Christ, and make God the great object of our life, we only differ from the most frivolous in degree, and possibly the degree may not be so great as we suppose.

You will all understand my text, as you hear it, to mean, first, “Turn away mine eyes from looking upon the levities of men, the tomfoolery of the world.” But it means more than this. “Turn away mine eyes from looking at the world’s pride, at the world’s wealth, at the world’s substantial temptations.” These, as the royal preacher has said, are vanity. “Vanity of vanities,” said Solomon, “all is vanity,” as he looked at everything beneath the sun. And we may say of everything short of Christ, “Turn away mine eyes from beholding it, lest my heart should love it.”

The psalmist goes on to couple with this another petition: “Quicken thou me in thy way.” Beholding vanity is sure to bring deadness into the soul. You all know that this is true, not only of that which is frothy, but of all that, however specious, is not sterling. If you let the cares of this world enter into your mind too much, do they not destroy your spirituality? If honour be your game, or even if you are hunting after an honest livelihood without casting the care of it upon God, you know that your grace declines, your faith grows weak, and your love becomes ready to expire. No high degree of grace can be attained when the eyes are fixed upon debasing things. We must have our eyes where we profess that our hearts already are,-beyond the skies. We must be looking for Christ to reveal the exceeding riches of his grace and glory, and not after vanities to display the pleasure of this present evil world, or else our souls will soon lose the force and strength of piety, and we shall have good reason to cry, “Quicken thou me in thy way.”

Beloved, I hope you all know what the psalmist means by being quickened in God’s way. Often, your spirits get lethargic and dull when, suddenly, the Spirit of God comes upon you, and once more your former vigour returns; and, instead of creeping, you begin to run in the way of God’s commandments. Pray, then, this prayer as well as the former one, “Quicken thou me in thy way,” for, as the looking at vanity will make us dull, so our souls being quickened will be sure to turn off our eyes from vanity. As the first part of the text acts upon the second, so the second will act also upon the first. Put the two together, and may they be graciously fulfilled in the experience of every one of us!

To amplify the teaching of the text, I shall now call your attention to four things,-a tacit confession; a silent profession; a vehement desire; and a confident hope.

First, then, I observe here a tacit confession. It is not stated in so many words, but it is really meant.

The psalmist seems to impeach himself, and unburden his breast before God, deploring, indeed, a natural tendency towards vanity. What!-is it so after all that David has known of fellowship with the real? Does the vain still attract him? What!-when God’s covenant has been peculiarly delightful to the shepherd-king, do the mirth and revelry of this world and the gewgaws of earth still attract him? He seems to confess it. He would not need to have his eyes turned off from vanity if there were not a something in his heart that went after it; he would not ask God to turn them off unless he felt that he needed a stronger arm than his own to keep him in fitting restraint. It is very easy for you and me to stand up and play the wise man,-ay, and in the closet to pray like wise men; we may feel, in our own souls, that we have got experience now, and shall never be again intoxicated by the world’s draughts, never more be deceived by its lies; but no sooner does Madam Bubble show her face, than her strange fascinations draw our eyes. Let the world ring the bell, and straightway we start up, and our heart wanders, too oft before we are aware of it. We know they are vain things,-know it thoroughly; but yet, knowing it, we do not in our own nature therefore avoid them. Reckless of the snares, the birds are foolish enough to fly into them. Though we know that the draught is poisoned, yet is it so sweet that, unless prevented by God’s grace, you and I would soon be drunken with it. Every child of God knows that he is a fool, or he is a great fool indeed if he does not know it. Every heir of heaven understands that there is within himself a very sink of vanities; his vicious tastes respond to the vile compounds of earth, as “deep calleth unto deep.” It is clear enough, I think, if you turn over the prayer, that the psalmist confesses that his heart goes after vanity.

He confesses, yet again, that his eyes are on it now. He says, “Turn them off.” What does he mean but that they are on it? And some of us, in coming up to the house of God to-night, and, perhaps, while sitting here, have had to confess that our eyes are on vanity. Why, some of you believers may have been thinking of some silly snatch of a song that you heard before you were converted, or some idle tale that was told you the other day. You would gladly forget it, but it has followed you in here,-ay, and may even follow you to the communion table. Or, possibly, your worldly cares have come up with you hither, and my poor talk has scarcely had power to lift you up from your families, and from your shops, and from all the carking anxious thoughts that burden you. Your heart is on these things now. When you stood up to sing about Christ, and asked him to set you as a seal upon his heart, where were your flighty imaginations roaming? We tried to pray just now; but while the preacher’s words went up to heaven, did not your hearts wander, I wot not where?

The confession assumes another character, as it seems to hint that, no sooner are our eyes on vanity, than our heart goes after it. What! can we not manage our own eyes? What! are we such vain creatures that the mere sight of vanity is a temptation to us? Surely, to see vanity ought to be sufficient to make us avoid it! Some men say that they will look at evil, and knowing that it is evil, they will be safe from the danger of being betrayed by it. Ah, how many have proved the hollowness of that pretence! Brethren, the tree of knowledge of good and evil has brought little benefit to mankind; it has certainly brought a curse. Beware of the hope to be as gods through eating again of that tree; we are more likely to be as devils than to be as gods through feeding upon it. Oh, no! I know enough of sin without looking at it. There is enough knowledge of my sinfulness forced upon me by my daily temptations and failures, without my going to this place or to the other, that I may look upon sin. Do not tell me that you went into bad company just to ascertain its character. Do not tell me, young man, that, having heard a certain thing condemned, you thought you ought to see it for yourself. That will not do; that is not a believer’s desire, nor a godly man’s wish. He cries, “Turn away mine eyes. Lord, let me speak unto thee humbly. Am I so sinful and so weak that I have only to see a ditch, to fall into it,-only to see a fire, to put my finger into it? I am not like that in other things: how is it that I am so besotted in the carnality of my mind? Yet so it is, Lord; thou knowest, and thy servant feels that it is so.” Therefore, let the confession stand, “Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity.”

The psalmist’s confession seems to go a little deeper, for he seems to say that he cannot keep his own eyes off vanity: “Turn away mine eyes.” What, Lord! have I not an optic nerve? Is there not a power in my head to turn which way it wills? Am I compelled to look at vanity? Nay, not compelled by physical necessity; but, still, so compelled by the disposition of this vile nature of mine that, unless thou dost keep thine hands on my head, and turn mine eyes from beholding vanity, I shall surely be looking at it. We will go anywhere to see vanity. It is strange what mountains men will climb-into what depths they will dive-what leagues they will travel-what wealth they will spend, only to see vanity! And when they have seen all they can see, what does it come to but the sight of so much smoke, after all? And yet, brethren, we cannot keep our eyes off it. If anybody tells you that there is a lewd or unseemly thing, a juggle, or some witchcraft, do you not feel an inward craving, an unholy desire to see it? Is not that a well-known principle of human nature? There is a little tract, I think, entitled, “Don’t read it;” and why was it so entitled, think you? Because, whatever tract might remain unread, that one is certain to be read. “Don’t read it,”-the prohibition provokes appetite, and the moment you and I hear “don’t” said, inclination begins to be astir. Thank God that this morbid propensity is restrained and subdued by sovereign grace through the love of Jesus; but, still, the natural bias is toward evil, and toward evil only. Therefore, Lord, “Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity.” The confession goes very deep, you see.

But there is even more in the next clause: “Quicken thou me in thy way.” He seems to confess that he is dull, heavy, lumpy, all but dead. Do not you feel the same? I hope you do not; but I often do, and I am afraid you often do, even the best of you; and when we think of how fast our spirits ought to move along the heavenly road, constrained and moved by love like that of Jesus, I think we all must cry,-

“Dear Lord! and shall we ever lie

At this poor dying rate?

Our love so faint, so cold to thee,

And thine to us so great?”

Yes, we are dull if God leaves us for a moment,-so dull and so doting that the best motives cannot quicken us; otherwise, the psalmist would not have needed to appeal to the Almighty to effect that of which he was himself capable. What! will not the thought of hell quicken me? Can I think of sinners perishing, and yet not be awakened? Will not the thought of heaven quicken me? Can I think of the reward that awaiteth the righteous, and yet be dull and stupid? Will not the thought of death quicken me? Can I think of dying, and standing before my God, and yet be slothful in my Master’s service? Will not Christ’s love quicken me? Can I think of his dear wounds, can I sit at the foot of his cross, and think of him, and yet not be stirred to something like fervency and zeal? Yet it seems that no such consideration can quicken to zeal, but that God himself must do it; or else there had been no need to cry, “Quicken thou me.” It struck me, as I turned this text over, that it was wonderful how poverty-stricken the psalmist felt himself. What does a beggar ask for? The poorest beggar that I ever met never asked me, so far as I remember, for anything less than a drink of water and a bite of bread; but here is a man who does not ask God for anything so little as that, but he asks for life itself: “Quicken thou me.” The beggar has life; he only asks me for means to sustain it. But here is a poor beggar, knocking at mercy’s door, who has to ask for life itself; and that beggar represents me,-represents thee,-represents, I am sure, every Christian who knows himself. You may well ask, every day, even for spiritual existence. It is not, “Enlarge me, Lord; enrich me in heavenly things;” but, “Oh, do keep me alive! Quicken thou me, O Lord!” You see that the confession thus takes us into the most secret places of man’s want. I pray God to teach us all so to feel what our true state is that, with humble, sincere, and devout hearts, we may pray the prayer, “Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity; and quicken thou me in thy way.”

The text likewise involves a silent profession. Do you observe it? It is not all confession of sin; there is a profession of something.

There is a profession at least of this, “Lord, I know it is vanity.” That is something. “O my God, how I bless thee that I do know the hollowness of the world, and the plague of my own heart! It always was so, but I did not always think so.” There are some of you, who do not think that even worldly amusements are vanity. You love them; there is a sweetness and a substance in them to you. Perhaps you are like the lady, who said to the minister that she loved to go to the play, because, first of all, there was the pleasure of thinking of it before she went, and then there was the pleasure of being there; then there was the pleasure of thinking of it afterwards, and the pleasure of telling it to one’s friends. “Ah!” said the man of God, “and there is another pleasure you have forgotten.” “What is that, sir?” asked the lady. “It is the pleasure of thinking of it on a dying bed, madam.” Small pleasure that! Some of you have never thought of that last pleasure, and therefore the world’s vanity is very satisfactory to you. I know what a pig would say if he were to talk. As he munched his husks, he would say, “I cannot tell what to think of those stupid men; they call these husks empty, and throw them away. I think them very luscious and substantial.” You would, then, attribute the quality of the taste to the nature of the beast. It is after the manner of a pig; and so sinners say, “We cannot make out why these strict people, these Puritans, find fault with worldly amusements; we find them very sweet.” Yes, but you see that it is only a sinner who says so; it is only a sinner who feels so; the true child of God knows that both the pleasures of this world and its cares are alike vanity. I know how some of you have often felt when you were busy. Encumbered with many things, more than you could manage, a friend has complimented you, and said, “I am glad you are getting on so well. Appearances bespeak a thriving trade.” “Well,” you reply, “I think I am. I am grateful for business.” But, as your friend turned his head, you thought to yourself, “Ah! but I should be more grateful if I had more grace, for I feel that much business needs much grace to balance it, or else the more I get the poorer I shall be.” You felt that it was vanity unless you could have God’s blessing and the presence of Christ with it.

It is a feature of this profession that, seeing this vanity, you do not want to love it, and would avoid being ensnared by it. If I say, “Turn away mine eyes from it,” I do in effect confess before God that I do not love it. I hope there are many of us here who can say, “Lord, our evil heart sometimes goes after it, but we do not really love it; in the bottom of our souls, there is a hatred of sin so deeply rooted that, if the loss of our eyes would take away temptation, and prevent us from sinning, we would thank God never to allow us to see a ray of light again, for sin is so terrible an evil to us that even blindness would be a blessing if it enabled us to escape from sin.”

The second clause of the text has in it likewise the nature of profession: “Quicken thou me in thy way.” The man who can pray thus is already in God’s ways. He professes that he loves them,-that he desires to be obedient to God’s will, and to continue to make greater progress in God’s ways. What say you, dear brethren? Some of you find the ways of righteousness very rough; yet, would you leave them? Some of you are reproached and persecuted for Christ’s sake; yet, would you like to go back to the ways of sin? The devil has put a horse at your door, and there is a golden bridle on it; and it ambles so softly! “Now mount,” says he, “and come back, and serve your old master; nobody will laugh at you then. Everyone will call you a good fellow; charitable, and kind, and liberal. Come back,” saith he, “and I will treat you better than before. Will you mount and ride?” “No,” the very least of us would say; if we had the highest offer for the renunciation of Christ, we would not leave him.

“Go you that boast in all your stores,

And tell how bright they shine;

Your heaps of glittering dust are yours,

But my Redeemer’s mine.

‘I would not change my blest estate

For all that earth calls good or great;

And while my faith can keep her hold,

I envy not the sinner’s gold.”

No, Lord, I may be weary in thy way, but I will never weary of thy way.

And now, in the third place, there is before us here a vehement desire,-how vehement, those only experience who know the bitterness of vanity, and the disappointment which it brings.-how vehement those only can describe who know the excellence and sweetness of divine quickening.

The psalmist breathes his whole soul out in this prayer. He seems to plead most vehemently, his body and his soul seem to pray together. “Turn away mine eyes,” says the body. “Quicken thou me,” says the soul.

This is a most reasonable and a most practical desire.

How reasonable it is! When a Christian is not quickened in God’s way, he is very uncomfortable. The happiest state of a Christian is the holiest state. As there is the most heat nearest the sun, so there is the most happiness nearest to Christ. I am persuaded that no Christian ever finds any comfort when his eyes are fixed on vanity,-nay, that he never finds any satisfaction unless his soul is quickened in the ways of God. The world may find happiness elsewhere, but he cannot. I do not blame ungodly men for going to their pleasures. Why should I blame them? Let them have their fill; that is all they have to enjoy. I heard of a converted wife, who despaired of her husband’s salvation, but she used to be always very kind to him. She said, “I am afraid he will never be converted;” but whatever he wished for she always got for him, and she would do anything for him, “for,” said she, “I fear that this is the only world in which he will be happy, and therefore I have made up my mind to make him as happy as I can in it.” But you, Christians, must seek your delights in a higher sphere, because you cannot be happy in the insipid frivolities of the world, or in the sinful enjoyments of it.

Besides being uncomfortable, it is very dangerous. A Christian is always in danger when he is looking after vanity. We heard of a philosopher, who looked up to the stars, and fell into a pit; but, if they fall deeply who look up, how deeply do they fall who look down! No Christian is ever safe when his soul is so slothful or drowsy that it wants quickening. Of course, you do not understand me to mean that his soul is in danger of being lost. Every Christian is always safe as to the great matter of his standing in Christ, but he is not safe as regards his standing and happiness in this life. Satan does not often attack a Christian who is living near to God; at least, I think not. It is when the Christian gets away from God, and gets half starved, and begins to feed on vanities, that the devil says, “Now I will have him.” He may sometimes stand foot to foot with the child of God who is active in his Master’s service, but the battle is generally short. He that slips as he goes down into the Valley of Humiliation invites Apollyon to come and fight with him.

Again, for a Christian to have his eyes fixed on vanity is injurious to has usefulness; nay, more, it does positive damage to others. When a Christian man is found setting his affection upon worldly things, what do worldlings say? “Why, he is one of our own kith and kin; he is just like us. See, he loves what we love, where is the difference between us and him?” Thus the cause of Christ gets serious injury. How can you, my dear brother, from the pulpit, for instance, preach concerning a certain sin when you are yourself guilty of it? I should like, for instance, to hear a man, who swears that baptism regenerates when he knows it does not, rebuke a countess for saying that she is “not at home” when she is. I should like to hear him rebuke a draper for “a white lie” across the counter. I should like to hear him rebuke the devil, for, methinks, he could scarcely venture to do it. Unfaithfulness to the Spirit of God is as great a sin as ever Satan committed. No, my brethren, we must keep ourselves clear of these sins, or else, for practical purposes, the tendon of Achilles has been cut, and we cannot serve God with might and main. We can only do some trifling service for him when our garments are spotted and our souls are set on vanity.

For all these reasons, then, let the Christian pray this reasonable prayer that he may be kept from vanity.

Did I say that this is a very practical prayer? So, in truth, it is. You will observe that the former part is practical, though the latter may seem spiritual. The psalmist says, “Turn away mine eyes.” Now, the man who prays after this fashion will not fail in the directness of his aim. He who is diligent in praying this prayer will not be negligent in his life. He will not pray, “Turn away mine eyes from vanity,” and then go and drink death-draughts of carnal pleasures. He will not pray, “Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity,” and then go and turn his eyes on the very evil that he deprecated. No, brethren; there is something so practical in the text that I commend it to your earnest observation. Make it your prayer to-night, each one of you!

Lastly, there is, in the text, an expression of confident hope.

The psalmist does not pray like a waverer who will receive nothing of the Lord. It seems to me that he has an unmoved confidence that God will turn away his eyes from vanity, and that God can quicken him. Have any of you backslidden? Let this sentence comfort you to-night. Do not lose the belief that divine love can restore you. Have you sunk very low? Do not, I pray you, doubt the efficacy of the right hand of the Most High to bring you back again. Satan will get a great advantage over you if you begin to think that God cannot quicken you. No, be assured that he can. And let me tell you that he can do so readily. It may cost you many pains, but it will cost him none. He that made the world out of nothing can certainly restore to you the joy which you have lost.

And may I tell you what I think is the means which God often uses with his people to restore and quicken them, and take their eyes from vanity? I think it is a sight of Christ. At any rate, my personal witness is that I never know the vanity of this world so well as when I see the beauties and the perfections of the Lord my Master. That true man of God, Dr. Hawker-I am told by a friend of mine who visited him one morning,-was asked to go and see a review that was then taking place at Plymouth. The doctor said, “No.” My friend pressed him, and said, “I know you are a loyal subject, and you like to see your country’s fleets; it is a noble spectacle.” The doctor said, no, he could not go; and being pressed until he was ashamed, he made this remarkable answer, “There are times when I could go and enjoy it, but mine eyes have seen the King in his beauty this morning, and I have had so sweet a sense of fellowship with the Lord Jesus, that I dare not go to look upon any spectacle lest I should lose the present enjoyment which now engrosses my soul.” I think you and I will have felt the same thing, in our measure, when Christ has manifested himself to us. What! look on vanity, my Lord, when thy pierced hand has touched my heart? What are the grandest buildings of this world, with all their pomp of architecture, compared with thee, thou Great Foundation Stone, thou chief Corner Stone, elect and precious? What is the music of this world, with all its swell and roll, compared with thy name, Immanuel, God with us?

“Sweeter sounds than music knows

Charm me in Immanuel’s name:

All her hopes my spirit owes

To his birth, and cross, and shame.”

What are the world’s feasts compared with thee, O Christ? Its dainties are not sweet, for I have tasted of thy flesh. Its wines are no longer luscious, for I have sipped from the cup of thy blood. What are the world’s choicest offers that she can make me of honour or of wealth? Hast thou not raised me up together and made me to sit together in heavenly places with thyself, and hast thou not made me a king and a priest unto God, and shall I not reign with thee for ever and ever? Christian, thou mayest carry on such musing as this by the hour together. Thou mayest boast thyself in God, and thy leviathan faith may swim in this boundless deep of Jesu’s love. Thou surely, after this, canst never wish to go back to the pool wherein the minnow of this world disports itself. Here thou canst bask thyself in the rays of a meridian sun, and wilt thou afterwards cry for a farthing candle because thou hast lost its beams?

Shame on thee, Christian, if thy soul is taken up with vanities! Let those love them who find their all in them, but thou canst not. The sight of him who is white as the lily for perfection, and red as the rose for sacrificial suffering, must have taken away the beauty of this world for us. Says Rutherford, “Ever since I ate the bread of heaven, the brown bread of this world has not been to my palate; and since I have feasted on the food of angels, I cannot eat the ashes that satisfy the men whose portion is in this life.” And truly it is so. Arise, Sun of righteousness, and our love of darkness shall be dispelled while we are charmed with thy light! We hear of some who worship the sun at its rising; that is sad idolatry; but rise, Sun of righteousness, and we will worship thee, and there shall be no idolatry in that. Thou art not like the sun that burns out human eyes when they look upon it; but we will look into thy face until thy transporting light shall only burn out our sight for this world to help us to gaze upon thyself without a veil between.

Oh, that I were talking thus for you all, but I am conscious that I am not. I do pray, however, that you, who love vanity, may find out how vain it is before you come to die. The other night, I lay awake, and tossed to and fro many hours before I fell asleep. I realized then, more than at any other time in my life, what it was to die. My every bone seemed to tremble. I lay, as I thought, upon a bed of sickness; the room seemed hushed around me; the ticking of my clock sounded like the ticking of the death-watch. I thought I heard them whisper, “He must die;” and then my soul seemed to fling itself back upon the realities of God in Christ, and I asked myself, “Have I preached or have I prayed for this? But now is Christ able to save me. He is my only hope, and my only plea. Is it true that Christ came into the world to save sinners?” And I recalled those cogent and blessed arguments which prove that Christ is the Sent One of God, and my soul rejoiced that it could die in peace. And then I could but think of that sweet rest which Jesus brings when you can throw yourself on him. And now, to-night, in the recollection of that strange vision of the shadow of death, through which I passed, I can but ask others, “What will you do when you come really to die, if you have no Saviour?” Men and women, if you have no Christ to trust to, what will you do? You must soon have the death-sweat wiped from your clammy brows; you must soon have the needed drop of water administered to your parched lips. What will you do when death shakes the bones within the strong man, and makes each nerve thrill with the dread music of pain? What will you do when death, and hell, and judgment, and eternity, and the great white throne have become real things to you, and your business, and even your children and your wife seem banished from your eyes? Let a brother’s love beseech you to flee from the wrath to come, and to fly to Christ for salvation. God knoweth how I love your soul. It is for the sake of men’s souls that I suffer contempt and scorn, and will gladly bear it,-ay, and will provoke it more than I have ever done,-provoke it because this dull, dead age needs provocation,-needs to be stirred up, even its ministers need to be stirred up to something like honesty and zeal for the souls of men. I say that I will gladly bear reproach for your souls’ slake; and will not you-oh! will not you-be persuaded to think on those things that make for your eternal peace? The gates of heaven are up there; the gates of hell are down yonder. The cross of Christ points you to heaven; follow its guidance. Look to the wounds of Jesus. These are the gates of pearl through which you must enter heaven. But if you will turn to your vanities and to your sins, and follow them, and delight yourself in worldly pleasures, then hell is your portion as surely as you sin. May the Lord give faith to those who have none, and help us who have believed through grace to walk in his ways; and unto his name shall be the glory, world without end! Amen.

Exposition by C. H. Spurgeon

PSALM 119:81-88

Verse 81. My soul fainteth for thy salvation: but I hope in thy word.

The psalmist was so full of longings, hungerings, thirstings, for God’s salvation that he had come even to faintness through the strength of his desire. Yet, in his faintness, he was not too far gone to hope; and we also have good ground for hoping and believing that God, who gave us his Word, will stand to it, for he is both able and willing to fulfil all that he has promised.

82. Mine eyes fail for thy word, saying, When wilt thou comfort me?

He looked out for a message from God as the watchers of the night looked for the breaking of the morning. His eyes ached to behold the comforts of his God. Oh, blessed state of strong desire! I pray God that we may all experience it.

83. For I am become like a bottle in the smoke; yet do I not forget thy statutes.

When an empty skin bottle was hung up in one of the smoky dwellings of the East, it became withered, cracked, useless; and the psalmist says, “ ‘I am become like a bottle in the smoke,’-I seem to be good for nothing, withered, dried up;-‘yet do I not forget thy statutes.’ ” A good memory is one of the best of things for us to possess; but a good memory for that which is good is better still.

84. How many are the days of thy servant? when wilt thou execute judgment on them that persecute me?

“I am not going to live here for ever, Lord; let me not have to wait to be vindicated until I am in my grave. O my God, hasten the day of my deliverance!”

85, 86. The proud have digged pits for me, which are not after thy law. All thy commandments are faithful: they persecute me wrongfully; help thou me.

God’s Word is all true; the longer we test and try it, the more shall we find it to be worthy of our fullest confidence. Those who doubt its truth have never really proved its power. Those who mistrust it, in any degree, are as yet like inexperienced mariners who are constantly doubting and fearing what is going to happen; but those who have long done business on the great waters of the ocean of divine inspiration, and who have seen the wonders of the Lord there, will tell you that, though heaven and earth shall pass away, God’s Word shall endure for ever. We have seen a thousand things in the course of our earthly pilgrimage, but there is one thing that we have never seen, and that we never shall see, namely, God proving unfaithful to his promise, and deserting his people in their time of need.

What a short yet comprehensive prayer the psalmist prayed when he uttered those three words, “Help thou me”! “ ‘Help thou me,’-that I may never be frightened by those who wrongfully persecute me;-that I may never do anything to deserve their persecution;-that I may be able to behave myself wisely while they are plotting against me.” If you are in business, write this prayer on your shops, your offices, and your ledgers; if you are sick, have this petition hanging before your eyes, that you may be constantly reminded to cry to the Lord, “Help thou me.”

87. They had almost consumed me upon earth; but I forsook not thy precepts.

Therefore his enemies could not consume him. As long as the believer holds fast to God’s precepts, he is indigestible even to the old dragon himself; and no adversary shall ever be able to devour him as long as the Word of God is in his heart.

88. Quicken me after thy lovingkindness; so shall I keep the testimony of thy mouth.

“Give me more true spiritual life, inspirit me, revive me, ‘quicken me.’ ” At this very moment, good Lord, if I am cold, and half frozen, and almost dead, yet since I am like the trees, whose life is in them even when they have lost their leaves, give me a new spring-time: “Quicken me after thy lovingkindness.” We all need this quickening if we are to hold on and hold out to the end; and, blessed be the name of the Lord,-

“New supplies each hour we meet

While pressing on to God.”