The Devil’s Last Throw

The Devil's Last Throw

(No. 1746)

Delivered on Lord's-day Evening, June 10th, 1883, by

C. H. SPURGEON,

At the [5]Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington,

On an evening when the regular hearers left their seats to be occupied
by strangers.

"And as he was yet a coming, the devil threw him down, and tare him."—
Luke 9:42.

OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST taught the people much by his words, but he
taught them even more by his actions. He was always preaching, his
whole life was a heavenly discourse on divine truth; and the miracles
which he wrought were not only the proofs of his deity, but the
illustrations of his teaching his wonders of mercy were, in fact, acted
sermons, truths embodied, pictorial illustrations appealing to the eye,
and thus setting forth gospel teaching quite as clearly as vocal speech
could have done. When we read of the miracles of our Lord, we should
not only accept them as proofs of his Deity, and seals of his
commission, but as instructions as to the manner of his gracious
working. What he did of old to the bodies of men should be received as
a prophecy of what he is to-day prepared to do to the souls of men. I
am sure I shall not be straining the meaning of the text, or the
intention of the miracle, if, instead of preaching about the youth
possessed of the devil, and dwelling only upon that wonderful display
of power, I endeavor to show that there are parallel cases at this time
in the world of mind. Jesus is able to work in the unseen spirit-world
miracles such as were foreshadowed by those, which he wrought in the
visible natural world.

I suppose that we have never seen Satanic possession, although I am not
quite sure about it; for some men exhibit symptoms which are very like
it. The present existence of demons within the bodies of men I shall
neither assert nor deny; but certainly, in our Savior's day it was very
common for devils to take possession of men and torment them greatly.
It would seem that Satan was let loose while Christ was here below that
the serpent might come into personal conflict with the appointed seed
of the woman, that the two champions might stand foot to foot in solemn
duel, and that the Lord Jesus might win a glorious victory over him.
Since his defeat by our Lord, and by his apostles, it would seem that
Satan's power over human bodies has been greatly limited; but we have
still among us the same thing in another and worse shape, namely, the
power of sin over men's minds. That this is akin to the power of the
devil over the body is clear from holy Scripture. "The God of this
world hath blinded the eyes of them that believe not." "The spirit that
now worketh in the children of disobedience," says the apostle Paul
Satan works in all ungodly men, as a smith at his forge; do you wonder
that they sometimes curse and swear? These are only the sparks from the
forge below, flying out of the chimney. The evil one is found
co-operating with evil natures, finding fire for their tinder, blowing
up the flame that is within them, and in every way assisting them, and
exciting them to do evil; so that, albeit men are not possessed of
devils in the sense in which they were so in Christ's day, yet the evil
one still has power over them and leads them whithersoever he desires.
Do we not constantly meet with persons of this kind? I do. I know
passionate men in whom the fiercest of devils appear to rave and rage;
and I could point out others whose love of lying betrays the presence
of the father of lies. One blasphemes and uses such filthy language
that we are sure his tongue is set on fire of hell, even if the prince
of devils is not ruling it. A man says, "Drink is ruining me, body and
soul. I know that it is shortening my life. I have had delirium
tremens, and I know that I shall have it again if I continue as I am;
but I cannot leave the drink. Sometimes the craving comes over me, and
I seem as if I must swallow the intoxicating draught, whether I will or
no." Whether this is the devil, or whether it is altogether the man
himself, I am not going to argue; but the drink-devil, whose name is
legion, is certainly among us to this day, and we hear persons tell us
that they are anxious to escape from its power, and yet they return to
it, rushing to intoxication as the swine rushed into the sea when the
demons had entered into them.

Need I mention another form of this evil in the shape of unchastity?
How many a man there is—alas, it is true of women too!—struggling
against a fierce passion, and yet that passion conquers them; the
unclean desire comes upon them like a hurricane bearing all before it,
and they yield to it as the sere leaf yields to the blast. Nay more,
they rush into a sin, which they themselves condemn, of which already
they have tasted the bitter fruit: they could not be more eager for it
if it were the purest of all enjoyments. As the moth dashes again into
the candle, which has burned its wings, so do men hurry into the vice
which has filled them with misery. They are possessed and domineered
over by the spirit of lust, and return to their crimes as the oxen
return to the stream.

I need not go further into details, for one man falls into sin in one
way, and another falls after quite a different fashion. All devils are
not alike—though they are alike evil. Anger differs from lust, and
profligacy laughs at covetousness, yet are they all of one brood,
privates in the same dreadful legion. Men practice differing sins, but
their sins all manifests the same evil power. Unless Christ has set us
free we are all in some shape or other under the dominion of the prince
of darkness, the master of the forces of evil.

This poor young man of whom we are to talk to night was brought into a
most horrible condition through the influence of a Satanic spirit. He
was a lunatic: reason had been dethroned. He was an epileptic, so that
if left alone he would fall into the fire or into the water. You have
yourself seen persons in fits of epilepsy, and you know how dreadful
would be their danger if they were taken in a fit in the middle of a
street, or by the side of a river. In this youth's case the epilepsy
was only the means by which the demon exercised his power, and this
made his condition seven-fold worse than if it had been simply a
disease. This afflicted one had become deaf and dumb besides, and very
violent, so that he was capable of doing a great deal of mischief. In
all the Holy Land there was only one who could do anything for him
there was one name by which he could be cured, and only one. It was the
name of Jesus. The Lord Jesus had disciples who had wrought miracles in
his name, but they were baffled by this extraordinary case. They tried
what they could do, but they were utterly defeated, and gave up the
task in despair; and now there remained only one person beneath the
canopy of heaven that could touch this child's case and drive out the
devil. Only one person could now answer the poor father's prayers:
every other hope was dead. That is just the state in which we are:
there is bat one name under heaven whereby we must be saved. Many are
the pretended salvations, but only one is real.

"There is a name high over all,
In hell, and earth, and sky.
Angels and men before it fall,
And devils fear and fly."

That one name is the name of Jesus, the Son of God, to whom all power
is given. He is God, and can deliver any man from the dominion of evil,
whatever form it may have assumed, and however long established the
dominion may be. Cure besides there is none. Nothing else can rescue a
man from the thralldom of his sin but the word of Jesus. When the word
of power is spoken from his divine mouth all things obey; but none out
of the ten thousand voices of earth can deliver us from evil. We are
shut up to heavens unique remedy: God grants that, being so shut up, we
may avail ourselves of it.

This poor lad, although nobody could cure him save Jesus, had a father
that loved him, and nobody could tell the sorrow of that father's heart
because of his poor son. The father had a sharp struggle to get his son
to the disciples, for epileptic persons who are also insane are hard to
manage. I cannot tell how many round about assisted to hold him, all
pitying the poor creature. Alas, the Lord Jesus Christ was away! The
parent's heart was heavy when he found that the great healer to whom he
looked was for a while absent. But when Jesus came down from the
mountaintop the poor demoniac had this one great advantage—that he had
friends to aid in bringing him to Christ. I hope that all here who are
not saved are privileged with relationship to some friend who seeks
their salvation. Perhaps it is a wife who cannot bear that her husband
should remain out of Christ, or a husband who pines till his spouse is
turned unto the Lord, and in either case it is a great help. How often
a mother bears a secret anguish in her breast for her unconverted sons
and daughters! I have known a sister in the family to be the only one
who knew the Lord, and she has pleaded with the Lord day and night,
entreating him to bless the whole of her household. Frequently a
servant in the house becomes its best helper, or it may he a neighbor
who has seen the ungodly conduct of his neighbors never ceases to pry
for them. When some few get together to bring a especially hard case
before Jesus, it is blessed work: for desperate cases grow hopeful
under the influence of prayer. Come, ye saved ones, pray with me now
for these unrenewed sinners, that at this moment they may feel the
power of our Lord Jesus.

I. So, then, my first point shall be, that OUR HOPES ARE ALL AWAKENED.
Here is a poor youth, but bad as he is terribly possessed us he is, he
is coming to Christ! Prayer has been offered for him by his father, and
Jesus is near. All looks well! We will take the ease of a sinner who is
in a similar condition: prayer has been offered for him, and that
prayer has, in some measure, been heard. We have in this congregation,
I trust, some who are coming to Christ, and I am right glad of it.
Coming to Christ is not the best possible condition, for the best
condition is to have already come to him. For a hungry man to be coming
to a dinner is not enough: he must actually reach the table and eat.
For a sick man to be coming to an eminent physician is hopeful, but it
is not enough; he must get to that physician, take his medicine, and be
restored. That is the point. To be coming to Christ is not enough: you
must actually come to him, and really receive him; for to such only
does he give power to become the sons of God.

This poor child was coming, and so are some here: that is to say, they
have begun to hear the gospel with attention. They did not aforetime go
anywhere on the Sabbath nor did they get up very early on a Sunday
morning. I can see a man who seldom rose on a Sunday morning, and when
he did, he read his newspaper. You might see him any time before one
o'clock in his shirtsleeves. Half this city of London is in that
condition every Sunday morning, because they look upon the day as
simply their own day, and not the Lord's-day. They have very short
memories, and do not "remember the sabbath-day to keep it holy:" they
forget all about its being the Lord's-day, and do not reverence it.
This is shameful conduct towards God. If a man on the road were to meet
with a poor beggar, and give him six out of seven shillings, which he
had with him, the beggar would be a wicked wretch if he afterwards
knocked the man down and stole the other shilling. Yet there are
multitudes of people to whom God gives six days out of seven, and
nothing will satisfy them but they must have the seventh all to
themselves, and rob God of it. The man I refer to is repenting of this
wrong, and so you see him coming upon the Sunday morning to hear the
gospel. He hears it very attentively; he leans forward to catch every
word, and he treasures up what he hears.

We are sure that he is coming to Christ, for when he gets home he
reaches down his Bible. He has begun to read the Word of God in an
earnest way. He thought at one time that it was about the dullest book
in the world. He even dared to turn it into a jest, and all because he
never read it; for those who deny the inspiration of Scripture are
almost always people who have never read it for themselves. It is a
book, which carries conviction within itself to candid minds when they
carefully peruse it. Assuredly this man is coming to Christ, for he
searches the Scriptures.

I feel sure he is coming to Christ, for he has begun to mend in many
respects. He has dropped his frequent attendance at his usual place of
worship, namely, the public house. He keeps more at home, and is
therefore sober. Plenty of people in London need no bell to fetch them
into the temples of their gods. We see in some of our churches and
chapels persons going in twenty minutes or half-an-hour after service
begins; but look at the temples of Bacehus at one o'clock, and at six
in the evening, and see how punctual are his votaries! The worshippers
of liquid fire stand outside till the shrine is opened; they are afraid
of being late; they are so thirsty that they long for the time of the
deadly libation. Drink seems to be the water of life to them, poor
creatures that they are! But now our friend of whom we are so hopeful
is not seen waiting at the posts of the doors—the "Blue Posts," I mean.
Thank God, he is looking to another fountain for comfort.

Note also that he has dropped his blasphemy and his unchastity. He is a
purer man in mouth and body than he used to be. He is coming to Christ.
But, as I said, coming is not enough. The thing is really to reach the
Lord Jesus and to be healed by him. I pray you, do not rest short of
this.

Still, this is all hopeful, very hopeful. The man is a hearer; he is
also a reader of the Scriptures; he has begun to mend a bit; and now he
is a thinker, too, and begins to be a little careful about his soul.
While he is at his labor, you can see that there is something working
in his brain, though once it was filled with vanity and wickedness. He
has a weight, too, at his heart, a burden on his mind; he is evidently
in earnest; so far as he knows the teaching of Scripture he is deeply
affected by it. He has learned that he will not cease to exist when he
dies; but that he will continue to be when yonder sun becomes black as
a burnt-out coal. He knows that there will he a day of judgment, when
throngs upon throngs, yea, all the dead, shall stand before the
judgment-seat of Christ to give an account of the things which they
have done in the body; he thinks this over, and he is alarmed. He chews
the cud upon divine truth, and finds time for solitary meditation. That
man is coming to Christ, for there is no better evidence of the face
being set towards Christ and heaven than a thoughtful state of mind.
And I have heard—of course, I cannot tell, for I was not there to see—I
have heard, I say, that the other night he began to pray. If so, I know
that he is coming to Christ, for prayer is a sure token. He has not vet
cast himself fully at the feet of Jesus, but he cries, "Lord, save me."
He is coming, and I am as glad as the birds on a spring morning. The
angels are watching; they are leaning from the battlements of heaven to
see whether it will end rightly, and you and I are very hopeful,
especially those of us who have been praying for this man; for since we
see that there is some change in him, and he begins to think and pray,
we look for his salvation, as men look for flowers when April showers
are falling. So, you see, our hopes are excited.

II. And now I will read the text again,—"As he was yet a coming, the
devil threw him down, and tare him." By this OUR FEARS ARE AROUSED.
What a sight it must have been! Here is the poor father bringing his
lunatic son, and friends are helping him; they are getting him near the
Savior, and he is just coining to him who can cure him, when, on a
sudden, he is taken in a fearful fit, worse than he shall ever suffered
before. He is cast down, thrown about, dashed to and fro; he wallows on
the ground: he seems to be flung up and down as by an unseen hand, we
fear that he will be torn to pieces. See! he falls down like a dead
man, and there he lies. As the crowd gathers around him, people cry,
"He is dead." Does it not seem a dreadful thing that when hope was at
its brightest all should he dashed aside?

I have observed this thing scores of times: I might say, I think
without exaggeration, hundreds of times. I have seen men, just when
they were beginning to hear and beginning to think, taken on a sudden
with such violence of sin, and so fearfully carried away by it, that if
I had not seen the same thing before I should have despaired of them;
but, having often seen it, I know what it means, and I am not so
dismayed as a raw observer might be; though I must confess that it half
breaks my heart when it happens to some hopeful convert whom I hoped to
receive into the church, and to rejoice over. We mourn when we hear
that the man who was somewhat impressed has become worse than
aforetime, and has gone back to the very vice from which we had rescued
him. The case runs on the same lines as our text—"As he was a coming,
the devil threw him down, and tare him."

How does the devil do this? Well, we have seen it done in this
way:—When the man had almost believed in Christ, but not quite, Satan
seemed to multiply his temptations around him, and to bring his whole
force to bear upon him. There is a wicked man in the shop, and the
devil says to him, "Your mate is beginning to be serious: ridicule him.
Tempt him all you can. Treat him to strong drink. Get him away to the
theater, the music-hall, or the brothel." It is wonderful how the
ungodly will lay all kinds of traps for one who is escaping from his
sins. They are fearfully set on keeping him from Christ. This is a free
country, is it not? A wonderfully free country when a Christian man in
the workshop has to run the gauntlet for his very life to this day. A
man may swear, and drink, and do what he likes that is detestable, and
never is there a word of rebuke for him; but the moment he begins to be
serious and thoughtful the wicked are down upon him like so many dogs
on a rat. The devil finds willing servants, and they worry the poor
awakened one; is there any wonder that, as he has not yet found Christ
and is not yet saved, he should for the time be carried away by these
assaults, and feel as if he could not go further in the right road?

I have known in addition to all this that Satan has stirred up the
anxious one's bad passions. Passions that lay asleep have suddenly been
aroused. Moreover, the man has become thoughtful, and from that very
fact doubts which he never knew before have come upon him. He begins to
mend, and now he finds a difficulty in getting his needle through where
the rent was made. He finds that tearing is easier work than mending,
and that running into sin is a much more easy thing than rising out of
the black ditch into which he has fallen. So now, what with those about
him tempting him, his bad passions responding to the temptation and his
doubts overclouding everything, it is not a marvelous thing that the
poor creature grows worse before he gets better. The disease, which
before had been concealed in more hidden and vital parts, seems to be
thrown out upon the surface, and the sight is sickening. This, however,
is not always a bad sign. Doctors rather prefer it to an inward
festering.

So have I seen it when men have been corning to Christ; their boat has
been tossed with tempest, and they have been driven far out upon a
raging sea.

Yes, and I will tell you what I have seen. I have seen a man almost
converted—well-nigh a believer in Christ, on a sudden become more
obstinate in his opposition to the gospel than ever he was before. A
man that was quiet and harmless and inoffensive before has, under the
influence of Satan, just when we hoped the best things of him, turned
round in a rage against the people who sought to do him good, and he
has spoken of the gospel which a little while before he seemed anxious
to understand. Sometimes such persons act as if they were reckless and
profane; just as boys, when they go through a graveyard, whistle to
keep their courage up. Many a man says big things against the gospel
when he is pretty nearly caving in, and he does not like anybody to
know that he is beaten. He is coming to Jesus; but still he does not
want anybody to see that he is so, and therefore he pretends to an
opposition which is not sincere. Have you not discovered that a man is
never so violent against a thing as when he is unwillingly convinced of
the truth of it? He has to try and demonstrate to himself that he does
not believe it by being very loud in his declarations: a secret
something in his soul makes him believe, and he is mad because he
cannot resist the inward conviction.

Do not be astonished—you that are trying to bring men to Christ—if it
should often happen that these lunatics break loose—that these
epileptics have a worse fit just before Christ cures them than ever you
knew them to have had before.

I will describe the usual way in which the devil throws men down and
tears them. You need not listen to this unless you like, because it
does not relate to all of you here; but it is true of a sufficient
number to render it needful for me to speak of it. It is a very curious
thing that if there is a poor soul in London that is well nigh insane
through despair of heart he wants to talk to me. I am often sore
burdened by the attempt to sympathize with the distracted. I do not
know why they should be attracted to me, but they come to tell me of
their evil state of mind—people who have never seen me before. This
fact gives me a wide field of actual practice and careful observation.
I frequently meet with persons who are tempted with blasphemous
thoughts. They have not yet laid hold on Christ, but they are trying to
do so; and at this stage of their experience most horrible thoughts
pass through their minds. They cannot prevent it they hate the
thoughts, and yet they come, till they are ready to lose their reason.
I will tell you what happened to me. I was engaged in prayer alone in a
quiet place one day when I had just found the Savior, and while I was
in prayer a most horrible stream of blasphemies came into my mind, till
I clapped my hand to my mouth for fear that I should utter any one of
them. I was so brought up that I do not remember ever hearing a man
swear while I was a child; yet at that moment I seemed to know all the
swearing and blasphemy that ever was in hell itself; and I wondered at
myself. I could not understand whence this foul stream proceeded. I
wrote to my venerable grandfather who was fur sixty years a minister of
the gospel, and he said to me,—"Do not trouble about it. These are no
thoughts of yours; they are injected into your mind by Satan. The
thoughts of man follow one another like the links of a chain, one link
draws on another; but when a man is in prayer the next natural thought
to prayer is not blasphemy; it is not, therefore, a natural secession
of our own thoughts. An evil spirit casts those thoughts into the
mind." I read also in an old book what they used to do years ago in our
parishes in the "good old times" when nobody had any sense of humanity.
If a poor wretch came to a parish begging, they whipped him through the
place and sent him on to his own parish. Thus should we treat these
diabolical thoughts. Whip them by hearty penitence and send them off to
where they came from, back to their own parish, which is far down in
the deeps. Thoughts of this sort, seeing you loathe them, are none of
yours. Do not let Satan lay his brats at your door, but send them
packing. Perhaps when you know this, it may help to break the chain;
for the devil may not think it worth his while to worry you in this way
any more, when he cannot by this means lead you to despair: he seldom
wastes his time in spreading nets when the bird can see them.
Therefore, tell Satan to begone, for you can see him, and you are not
going to let him deceive you. It may be he will take the hint and
begone.

When this does not answer, I have known Satan to throw the coming
sinner down and tear him in another way. "There," says he, "did you not
hear the preacher speaking about election? You are not one of the
elect. "Perhaps I am not," says one. Perhaps you are, say I, and I
think that whether you are one of the elect or not, you had better
come, on the ground that Jesus says—"Him that cometh to me I will in no
wise cast out. If you come, he will not cast you out, and then you will
find that you are one of the elect. You need not trouble about
predestination you will see that clearly enough very soon. If any man
had a ticket to go to a meeting, and he said, "I do not know whether I
am ordained to get in or not," I should think it very probable that he
was not ordained to eater if he sat at home in the chimney-corner and
did not make the attempt to go; but if, having his ticket, he walked to
the place and went in, I should feel sure that he was ordained to go
in. You will know your election when you have obeyed your calling. Go
you to Christ because you are commanded and invited, and leave the
deeper question to be answered by the facts.

Satan will throw men down and tear them in another way. "Ah!" says he,
"you are too big a sinner." I make short work of that. No man is too
big a sinner. "All manner of sin and of blasphemy shall be forgiven
unto men."

"Oh but," says Satan, "it is too late." Another lie of his. It is never
too late so long as we are in this world, and come to Jesus for pardon.
Generally in the case of young people he puts the clock back, and says
"It is too soon"; and then when they get old he puts the clock on, and
says "It is too late." It is never too late as long as Jesus lives, and
the sinner repents. If a sinner were as old as Methuselah, if he came
to Christ and trusted him he would be saved.

"Oh but," the devil says, "it is no use your trying at all. The gospel
is not true." Ay, but it is true, for some of us have proved it. I
could bring before you to night, if it were necessary, men and women
who lived in sin and wallowed in it, and yet the Lord Christ has saved
them by his precious blood. They would rejoice to tell you how they
have been delivered from the reign of sin by faith in Jesus, though
they could never have delivered themselves. The gospel is true. Our
converts prove it. Conversion is the standing miracle of the church;
and while we see what it works every day in the week, we are confident
and sure. When men that were passionate, dishonest, unchaste, covetous,
become holy, gracious, loving, pure, generous, then we know that the
gospel is true by the effect, which it produces. A lie would never
produce holiness and love. Out of the way, devil! It is all in vain for
you to come here with your falsehoods; we know the truth about you, and
about the gospel, and you shall not deceive us.

And then the devil will come with this—"It is of no use. Give it up;
give it up." Many and many a man who has been on the brink of eternal
life, has been thrown down and torn with this," It is of no use; give
it up. You have prayed, and you have not been answered: never pray
again. You have attended the house of God, and you have become more
miserable than ever: never go again. Ever since you have been a
thinking man and a sober man, you have had more trouble than ever you
had. See, says the devil, "what comes of your religion." Thus he tries
to induce the newly awakened to give it up. But oh, in God's name let
me implore you do not turn from it, for you are on the brink of the
grand discovery. Another turf turned, and there is the golden treasure.
After all your striving—your long striving—never give up the search
until you have found your Savior; for your Savior is to be found. Trust
in him this night, and he is yours forever.

III. I shall not detain you much longer. But as our hopes have been
awakened and our fears have been aroused, let us look on the scene till
OUR WONDER IS EXCITED. Did you notice when I was reading in the ninth
chapter of Mark, how Jesus healed this poor child? He did heal him, he
healed him of all that complication, healed him of the devil's
domination, healed him of the epilepsy, healed him of being deaf and
dumb, healed him of being a lunatic, healed him of pining away; and in
one moment that young man was completely saved from all his ills. He
could speak; he could hear; he was cured of his epilepsy, and was no
more a lunatic, but a happy rational being. The whole thing was done at
once. Wonder, and never leave off wondering!

"Can a man be changed all at once? It must take a long time," says one.
I admit there are certain qualities, which come only by education and
patient watchfulness. There are certain parts of the Christian
character that come of culture, and must be watered with tears and
prayer. But let me assure you, not as a matter of theory, but as a
matter which I have seen for thirty years, that a man's character may
be totally changed in less time than it takes me to tell you of it.
There is such power in the name of Christ that, if that name be
preached and the Spirit of God applies it, men can be turned right
round. There can be a total reversal of all their conduct, and, what is
more than that, of all their inclinations, and desires and wishes, and
delights and hates; for God can take away the heart of stone and give a
heart of flesh. The child of darkness can be translated into the
kingdom of light. The dead heart can be quickened into a spiritual
existence, and that in a single moment, by faith in Jesus Christ. When
that poor epileptic child was healed, it is said that the people were
amazed. But how much greater will be our amazement if we see the Lord
Jesus work such a miracle upon you, have struggled to get better, you
have prayed to get better, and all seems to be unavailing. Now, just
trust Christ, the blessed Son of God who reigns in heaven, who died for
sinners, and now lives for sinners. Only trust him, and this blessed
deed is done, you become a new creature in Christ Jesus, and commence a
holy life, which shall never end. This wonder can be performed now.

This cure was perfected at once, and it remained with the youth. The
most charming point about it was that the Lord Jesus said, "Thou dumb
and deaf spirit, I charge thee, come out of him, and enter no more into
him." Enter no more into him—there is the glory of it! Though the
epileptic fit was ended, yet the young man would not have been cured if
the devil had returned to take possession of him again, The Savior's
cures endure the test of years. "Enter no more into him" preserved the
young man by a life-long word of power.

I never dare to preach to anybody a temporary salvation. "Believe in
the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved," not for to night
merely, but for ever. When God saves a man he is saved: not for weeks
and years, but eternally. If Christ turns the devil out of him he shall
enter into that man no more for ever. Now, this is a salvation that is
worth your having, and worth my preaching. A temporary, I had almost
said, a trumpery salvation, that saves a man for a few months and then
lets him perish, is not worth preaching or having; but that which so
makes a man new as to put into him "a well of water springing up into
everlasting life"—that is worth worlds. I will tell you a story of
Christmas Evans which I like to tell on this point. Christmas Evans was
once describing the prodigal's coming back to his father's house, and
he said that when the prodigal sat at the father's table his father put
upon his plate all the daintiest bits of meat that he could find; but
the son sat there and did not eat, and every now and then the tears
began to flow. His father turned to him and said, "My dear son, why are
you unhappy? You spoil the feasting. Do you not know that I love you?
Have I not joyfully received you?" "Yes," he said, "dear father, you
are very kind, but have you really forgiven me? Have you forgiven me
altogether, so that you will never be angry with me for all I have
done?" His father looked on him with ineffable love and said, "I have
blotted out thy sins and thy iniquities, and will remember them no more
for ever. Eat, my dear son." The father turned round and waited on the
guests, but by-and-by his eyes were on his boy, they could not be long
removed. There was the son weeping again, but not eating. "Come, dear
child," said his father, "come, why are you still mourning? What is it
that you want?" Bursting into a flood of tears a second time, the son
said, "Father, am I always to stop here? Will you never turn me out of
doors?" The father replied, "No, my child, thou shalt go no more out
for ever, for a son abides for ever." Still the son did not enjoy the
banquet; there was still something rankling within, and again he wept.
Then his father said, "Now, tell me, tell me, my dear son, all that is
in thy heart. What do you desire more?" The son answered, "Father, will
you make me stop here? Father, I am afraid lest, if I were left to
myself, I might play the prodigal again. Oh, constrain me to stay here
for ever!" The father said, "I will put my fear in thy heart, and thou
shalt not depart from me." "Ah! then," the son replied, "it is enough,"
and merrily he feasted with the rest. So I preach to you just this—that
the great Father when he takes you to himself will never let you go
away from him again.

Whatever your condition, if you trust your soul to Jesus, you shall be
saved, and saved forever.

"Once in Christ, in Christ for ever:
Nothing from his love can sever."

"But what if we fall into great sin?" says one. You shall not abide in
great sin. You shall be kept and preserved by that same power which has
begun the good work, for it will surely carry it on even to the end.

Just two or three sentences and I have finished. I have been speaking
about the devil throwing some down and tearing them when they are
coming to Christ. Are there any of you who do not know anything about
it? Well, I am glad that you do not. If you come to Christ without
being thrown down and torn I am glad of it. I have endeavored to help
those that are terribly tormented; but if you are not so tried, do not
wish to be. There were here this morning two or three of the good
fish-people from Newhaven, and when I saw them in their picturesque
costumes they reminded me of a story that I heard about an old fishwife
who used to live near Edinburgh. A young man visited her, and began
speaking to her about her soul. She was going out, and she took up her
great load of fish to carry on her back, much more than most men would
like to carry. The young man said to her, "Well, you have got a great
burden there, good woman. Did you ever feel a spiritual burden?" She
put down her load and said, "You mean that harden which John Bunyan
speaks about in the Pilgrim's Progress, do you not?" "Yes," he said.
"Well," she said, "I felt that burden before you were born, and I got
rid of it, too; but I did not go exactly the same way to work that John
Bunyan's pilgrim did." Our young friend thought that she could not be
up to the mark to talk so, for he fancied that John Bunyan could not
make a mistake. "Well," she said, "John Bunyan says that Evangelist
pointed the man with the burden on his back to the wicket-gate, and
when he could not see the gate, Evangelist said, 'Do you see that
light?' And he looked till he thought he saw something like it. 'You
are to run that way—the way of that light and that wicket gate.' Why,
she said, "that was not the right direction to give a poor burdened
soul. Much good he got out of it; for he had not gone far before he
fell into the Slough of Despond, up to his neck in the mire, and had
like to have been swallowed up. Evangelist ought to have said, 'Do you
see that cross? Do not run an inch, but stand where you are, and look
to that; and as you look your burden will be gone. I looked to the
cross at once and lost my load. "What!" said the young man, "did you
never go through the Slough of Despond?" "Yes," she said, "I have been
through it far too many times; but let me tell you, young friend, that
it is a deal easier to go through the Slough of Despond with your
burden off than it is with your burden on." There is much blessed truth
in this story. Do not any of you be saying to yourselves, "How I wish I
could get into the Slough of Despond!" If you say that, you will get
in, and then you will say, "How I wish I could get out of the Slough of
Despond!" I have met with persons who fear that they never were saved
because they have not experienced much terror. I meet with others who
say that they cannot be saved because they experience too much terror.
There is no pleasing people. Oh that they would look to Jesus whether
or no! After I was preaching Jesus Christ from this platform once,
there came a man into the vestry who said to me," Blessed be God that I
entered this Tabernacle. I come from Canada, sir. My father, before he
found true religion had to be locked up in a lunatic asylum, and I
always thought that I must undergo a similar terror before I could be
saved." I said, "No, no, my dear friend, you are to believe in the Lord
Jesus Christ, and if you do that, despond or not despond, you are a
saved man." This gospel I preach to you. Believe in the Lord Jesus
Christ. Trust him quietly, humbly, simply, immediately. Trust him to
make you a holy man—to deliver you from the power of the devil and the
power of sin, and he will do it: I will be bound for him that he will
keep his word. Jesus is truth itself, and never breaks his word. He
never boasts that he can do what he cannot do. He has gone into heaven,
and he is therefore "able to save them to the uttermost that come unto
God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them." Only
trust him. Trust him to overcome the evil you have to fight with. You
will conquer it, man, if you will only trust Jesus. Woman, there is
hope for you if you will trust the wounded, bleeding, dying, risen,
living Savior. He will battle for you, and you shall get the victory.

God bless you, everyone, and may we all meet in heaven to praise the
Son of God forever and ever.