An Observation of the Preacher

An Observation of the Preacher

(No. 3072)

A SERMON PUBLISHED ON THURSDAY, DECEMBER 26, 1907.

DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON, ON LORD'S-DAY EVENING,
DECEMBER 25, 1864.

"Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof." Ecclesiastes
7:8.

SOME translators read this passage, "Better is the end of a speech than
the beginning thereof." And I doubt not that many of my hearers quite
concur in that opinion. You endeavor to be patient when we begin, but
as soon as we utter the word, "finally," your eyes begin to glisten,
for the tedious exercise, you think, will soon be over! And if it is so
to the hearers, I grant you it is sometimes so to the speaker! A
speaker s ometimes finds it difficult to begin, more difficult to
continue to edification, not difficult to come to a close, but often
exceedingly pleasant to do so. Well, doubtless many a young preacher
can remember when he first tried to speak–how much better he felt the
end of the speech to be than the beginning! Like the young acrobat,
walking upon a rope on high who tremblingly launches forth and timidly
puts one foot after the other until he reaches the end of his dangerous
task, he was relieved to sit down! Far better was the end of the speech
than the beginning thereof.

I do not think that is a correct version, or a proper translation, but
it is a great truth, for if a man should speak what is mischievous, it
is a good thing when he has done. It is better that he should have done
with it than that he should be continuing in his idle and dangerous
talk. And if a man speaks well and is a good ambassador–and has good
tidings to deliver–it is better that he should have delivered them and
fulfilled his mission. Now you have advanced one stage. You have
received a truth on which your souls can feed. And it is better to have
received it, than not to have received it–and hence the end is better
than the beginning.

I think we must take the text as it stands with a grain or two of salt.
It is relatively rather than absolutely true. "Better is the end of a
thing than the beginning thereof." That is true, or we would not find
it in Scripture. But the application of its truth is particular, not
universal. There are some things which are worse in their ending than
in their beginning. It is true, I believe, of all things which proceed
according to God's order, when God begins them and God ends them, or
when they are begun by God's direction, conducted in God's fear and
ended in God's Presence. In such cases I say the end is better than the
beginning–but the text must not be taken to be absolutely and
indiscriminately true in all cases. With a grain or two of salt,
however, I think it is a maxim worthy of Solomon.

"Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof." Some
pictures in nature will illustrate this. We compare the beginning and
the end. The sower goes forth on a damp and drizzling morning with his
handful of precious seed which he is loath to spare. And as he scatters
it, the rough wind blows into his face and the frost bites his cheek
and, literally, it may be said that he "sows in tears." The beginning,
therefore, is by no means pleasant. Then comes the harvest home, with
the songs and dances of smiling damsels and joyous swains, when the
produce of the fields is safely housed–that is the end thereof. I
think that everyone can see that the harvest is better than the
seedtime! Or a man starts forth upon a long journey. He takes a staff
in his hand. He prepares himself to climb yonder crags. The storm will
come on, but he must press through it. There will be brooks swollen
with the rains, but he must pass through them all. Summoning courage to
his aid, he surmounts every obstacle. He comes in all flushed with the
healthy exercise. He has climbed yonder crags, he has passed through
the brooks, he has braved the storm and now he comes to the blazing
fire to sit down and rest himself, for the journey is over. "Better,"
says the traveler, "is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof.
Toil came but now toil is sweetened, for I look back upon it and can
take my rest." Or see the good ship as the dock gates are opened and
she is drawn out into the river. Flags are flying and everyone cheers
those who are about to

make a venturesome voyage to the East Indies. See her, however, coming
back up the river, well loaded, going into dock–and ask the captain,
who remembers the rough weather as he passed the Cape, and the storm
just as he came off the Peninsula–and he will tell you that he likes
coming up the river much better than going down! Coming home with his
ship well freighted, after a prosperous voyage, he says, with thanks to
God, "Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof."

One more picture. An army of soldiers goes forth to war. Can you look
upon them with pleasure? I know that you crowd the streets and shout as
they march down your thoroughfares and, truly, it is a thrilling sight
to see the stalwart heroes as they go forth to fight their country's
battles. But when you think of the number of those brave men who may
lie dead on the battleground, and how few may ever return, I am sure,
to say the least, it is not a pleasant sight. But when those brave men
who have escaped the storm and crash of battle return to their native
land and again pass through the streets, they feel, if the spectators
do not, that better is the end of war than the beginning thereof!
Someone once said he thought there was never a good war and never a bad
peace. And I believe to a very great extent he was right. Peace is of
itself an inestimable blessing, and war in itself, whether just or
unjust, is a most terrific scourge. So whether you see the sower in the
field, or the traveler starting on his journey, or the voyager
launching upon the deep, or the warrior going forth to the fight–you
are ready to think that, "Better is the end of a thing than the
beginning thereof." I have given you these four pictures because I
shall want to use them as I turn from natural things to more spiritual
things.

I. Let me use this general principle tonight, in the first place, TO
SOOTHE YOUR REGRETS.

This year has all but gone. 1864, then, must soon be numbered with the
things that were. Perhaps someone says, "Would to God that I had this
year to live over again! I have missed many opportunities of doing good
or, when I have availed myself of them, I have not served my God as I
could have desired. I have another year less in which to serve the
Church, the world and my God. I have spent another of my talents and
have so much fewer to put out to usury for my Lord and Master." Now, do
not regret, dear Friend, that the year has passed. It should rather be
to you, if you are a believer in Christ, a subject for congratulation!
Would you wish to have the year over again, when in sober silence you
meditate upon the subject? You have had some sorrows this year. You are
like the sailor I spoke of just now–you have passed through some
storms. Weather-beaten mariner, would you like to have the storms of
this year over again? Do you remember that dreadful night when the ship
was driven so fearfully by the tempest, or the time when you were cast
upon the rocks–and would you like to endure the same again? I see you
shake your head and say, "No! Thank God we weathered that storm, but we
don't want it again." And, Christians, as you think of the losses,
crosses, sufferings and bereavements which you have had during this
year, can you feel any regrets that it is gone? Must not each one of
you say, "I thank God that stormy voyage is over and I have not those
tempests to endure"?

How many snares have you escaped during the past year? In looking back,
must you not observe that your feet have sometimes almost gone and your
steps have well-near slipped? There have been times when sin had almost
tripped you up, when the world had almost taken you in its trap and
when the devil had all but wounded you in a mortal part. You are like a
sailor who remembers the rocks by which he has sailed and the
quicksands from which he has escaped. Would you wish to run such risks
again? Do you wish, sailor, to go again over the bar at such a low
tide, or to be drifted so unpleasantly near that rock as almost to
grate against it? "No," he says, "having escaped those dangers, I am
thankful that they are over and have no wish to have them over again."
And are you not grateful, Christian, that another year of temptation
has gone forever and that the arrows that Satan has shot at you this
year, he can shoot at you no more? Those sword-cuts we received which
threatened to be mortal, we shall never have to dread again! They are
gone and when I say they are gone, it is implied that their mischief
and their power to hurt are gone forever.

But there is another side to this matter. What a multitude of mercies
you have enjoyed this year! How good God has been to us!–

"When all Your mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys– Transported
with the view, I'm lost In wonder, love and praise."

Those of us who have traveled in Switzerland, or in other countries
where the views are glorious to look upon, would not wish that we had
never seen them. On the contrary, we are glad that our eyes have
feasted on those sunny prospects. And you, too, Christian, cannot
regret that you have seen God's mercies, but you will thank God that it
has been your

privilege to have enjoyed such favors. There is another reason, then,
why you should not regret that the year has passed. I address myself to
some who are growing gray. I know there is a tendency in your minds to
regret that so many years have gone, but, my dear Brothers and Sisters
in the Lord, if you should do so, I think you would be guilty of a
folly unworthy of a Believer with such a long experience! Take John
Bunyan's picture of the Christian's progress. He describes Christian as
starting on his pilgrimage to the Celestial City with a burden on his
back that pressed him down, wringing his hands for fear and running
because he is afraid that he will be destroyed in the City of
Destruction. He has not gone a day's journey before he is up to his
neck in the Slough of Despond and floundering in the mire! This is the
beginning of the pilgrimage, but look at the end–he has come to the
river, he dips his foot into it and though it is chill and cold, it
does not stop him. When he gets midway in the river, how does Bunyan
picture him? The angels beckon him from the other side–those very
angels whose voices he had heard ringing clear and sweet across the
stream when he wandered in the groves of Beulah and sat among the
spices there. And now he reaches the bank on the other side and,
leaving his sins, his doubts, his infirmities and his mortality behind,
his disembodied spirit goes up to the celestial land and angel
attendants conduct him to the pearly gates of the golden-paved city!
Oh, infinitely better is the end of a spiritual life than the
beginning! Contrast the Slough of Despond with the Celestial City and
human intellect cannot fail to see how much better, how infinitely
better, the end is than the beginning!

Take this picture as a further illustration of the same point–Moses at
the beginning of his spiritual career is seen killing an Egyptian and
burying him in the sand–just like a young Christian, full of zeal, but
having little prudence. There is the beginning of his public career.
And now I think I see the old man of 120 years, firm of step, with an
eye as clear and piercing as an eagle's, standing up to address the
people whom he has carried, as nursing mother, in his arms! And, having
done this, leaving Joshua, his familiar servant, and all others behind,
he began to climb to the top of Pisgah. He has mounted to its loftiest
crag and, leaning over, he begins to take a full view of the Promised
Land. He sees the palm trees of Jerusalem and Zion, and his eyes linger
on Bethlehem–he catches glimpses of the blue sea afar off, and the
goodly land of Lebanon. And as he looks, one scene melts into the other
and he sees the face of God, for God, Himself, has come down and his
spirit is taken away with a kiss. As to his body, it is buried where no
man knows–but as to his soul, it is with God forever! Truly, in the
case of Moses, better was the end than the beginning, and such shall be
the spiritual end of every man of God who with the simplicity and faith
of Moses, can put his trust in God. I think this is sufficient to
soothe all your regret! Instead of being sorry that these years have
passed, thank God for them and be glad.

II. I shall now use this general principle to endeavor to STOP YOUR
FOREBODINGS.

It may be that many of you are in darkness–darkness which may be felt.
You find it very difficult to accept the truth that God is a God of
Love and One who cares for you. You are, however, only at the
beginning–the beginning of the ways of Providence. Your poor faith is
ready to be staggered by the sufferings you endure and unbelief
prophesies ten thousand things to fill your soul with doubts and
alarms–but the end of all this shall be better than the beginning!
Many Christians have more trials in the earlier part of their spiritual
life than they will ever have afterwards. "It, is good for a man that
he bear the yoke in his youth." You must not consider, because the sun
is just now behind a cloud, that it will always be there. It was a
little child who said when there was an eclipse, "Father, the sun is
put out." It was only a child who said that–no man thought so. Let
your riper experience correct the childishness of your unbelief. God
only hides His face to show it more clearly, by-and-by. The end shall
be better than the beginning. Have you not often seen a day which,
early in the morning, was heavy with fog and rain? As it came on, we
waited patiently and anxiously, for we wished for fine weather–but
those incessant drops of rain still fell. We looked to the wind quarter
and to the rain quarter, we looked with hope and then with fear, but
the drops fell unceasingly and there seemed to be no chance of
intermission. And yet, before noon had come we had seen the sun shining
brightly and we have heard the birds singing more sweetly–and it has
been fair weather after rain. Take that morning as a prophecy to your
poor, doubting, troubled soul of what your path in life will yet be.
You shall yet see that the end is better than the beginning.

Take one picture as an illustration and then I will leave this point.
Poor Joseph has been slandered by his mistress. His character is under
serious imputation. He is put into the round house by Potiphar–he is a
prisoner and must have prisoner's fare. And yet I think that Joseph had
never sat upon the throne of Egypt if he had not been put into the
dungeon. You must "stoop to conquer" and, like gold, you must be put in
the burning coals that you may be refined. But

you shall soon come out and, like that gold, when you shall glitter
with purity you shall know that "better is the end of a thing than the
beginning thereof."

III. And now let us use this simple statement of the text TO ENCOURAGE
OUR FAITH.

The way of sense is to get everything now–the way of faith is to get
everything in God's time. The worldly man lives on the present–the
Christian lives on the future. It will always greatly strengthen faith
if we, according to God's Word, look not so much at present appearances
as at the issue of our lives which is to make amends for all the toils
and disappointments we experience at the commencement of our career. So
surely as God has called you to be a partaker of the Kingdom, you must
renounce the pleasures of this present world. Look at your Lord and
Master. Look at His beginning. "He was despised and rejected of men; a
Man of Sorrows and acquainted with grief." Remember Gethsemane's blood
and sweat, and Gabbatha's terrible flagellation, and Golgotha's mount
of doom? This is the beginning. Would you see the end?–

"The head that once was crowned with thorns, Is crowned with Glory
now."

The mighty Victor drags death and Hell at His triumphant chariot
wheels! He mounts His Father's Throne and amidst the acclamations of
men and angels, He sits down forever and all His enemies shall be made
His footstool! This is the end, or rather, this is the beginning of the
end, for the splendors of the millennium, the Second Advent, and the
eternal honors which shall be cast at Jesus' feet, these are the end.
How much better is the glorious end than the sorrowful beginning! "As
He Is, so are we, also, in this world." You must take the manger, or
you shall never take the throne! You must have the Cross, or you shall
never wear the crown! You must be despised and rejected, or you shall
never be accepted and crowned! You must wade through the mire, or you
shall never walk the golden pavement! Cheer up, then, poor Christian!
Let this Truth of God be a stay to your soul just now, "Better is the
end of a thing than the beginning

thereof."

I will give you two illustrations and then leave this point. You see
that creeping worm, how contemptible is its appearance! You wish to
sweep it away–that is the beginning of the thing. You see that insect
with gorgeous wings playing in the sunbeams, sipping at the flower
bells and full of happiness and life–that is the end thereof. That
worm, that caterpillar, that maggot, if you will, is you! And you are
to be content with that until you are wrapped up in the chrysalis of
death. But you cannot tell what you shall be after death. All that we
know is that when Christ shall appear, "we shall be like Him, for we
shall see Him as He is." Be content to be like He, a worm, a
caterpillar in the beginning that, like He, you may be satisfied when
you wake up in His present likeness!

Again, you see that rough-looking diamond–it is put upon the wheel of
the lapidary. With much care he begins to turn it and to cut it on all
sides It loses much–much that seemed to itself costly. Do you see it
now? The king is to be crowned, the diadem is put upon the monarch's
head with the trumpet's joyful sound. There is a glittering ray which
flows from that diadem and it comes from that very diamond which was
cut just now by the lapidary. You, Christian, may venture to compare
yourself to such a diamond, for you are one of God's jewels. And this
is the time of the cutting process. You must endure it. Be of good
courage and murmur not. Let faith and patience do their perfect work.
In the day when the crown shall be set upon the head of "the King
eternal, immortal, invisible," one ray of glory shall stream from you,
for you shall be His! "You shall be Mine," says the Lord, "in the day
when I make up My jewels."

IV. Have patience with me, in the next place, while I use my text TO
SUGGEST ACTION.

It is very clear that we cannot have an ending if we have not a
beginning. However bright our end might be, we can never know it
experimentally unless we begin. The text therefore, suggests the
question to each one of us, "Have I begun? Has God begun with me?" The
beginning may be dark and gloomy, but you can never have a bright
ending without it. I know the beginning will involve the sacrifice of
many pleasures and the giving up of friends–"pleasures" and "friends"
so-called, but you cannot have an ending with the saints of God in
Heaven unless you have a beginning with the poor and afflicted of His
family on earth! I wonder whether there are some with whom God will
begin now. It will be a blessed thing if He should begin with you, but
it will be a far more blessed thing for you when He comes to the end.
It. will be so blessed, if you should, tonight, be led by the Holy
Spirit to direct your eyes with faith to Christ that the very angels
before the House of God shall have a merrier Christmas because of your
conversion! [See Sermon #2791, Volume 48–a high day in

HEAVEN.] Can I be mistaken in that notion? Did not our Lord

Jesus Christ say, concerning the shepherd who had found his sheep which
was lost. "When he comes home, he calls together his friends and
neighbors," (who are they but the angels who are the friends and
neighbors of Christ in Heaven?) "saying unto them, Rejoice with me, for
I have found my sheep which was lost. I say unto you, that likewise joy
shall be in Heaven over one sinner that repents, more than over ninety
and nine just persons which need no repentance." In Heaven they sing
more and with a more joyful song when sinners turn from the error of
their ways. I wonder whether tonight will be a time for "beginning"
with some of you? Oh, if the Spirit of God is now teaching you your
sinnership, if you feel that you are lost and ruined, I have to remind
you that on the Cross of Calvary, there hung a bleeding Savior and
that–

"There is life for a look at the Crucified One"–

and the moment you glance at Him by faith, the good beginning comes to
you! But, oh, it were vain for fancy to attempt to describe the ending
when the angel convoy shall bear your ransomed spirit upward to be
beatified forever and to be full of eternal life and joy in the
Presence of Jesus Christ, your Lord and Savior. May God begin thus with
some of you tonight!

V. And now to close–THE TEXT SUGGESTS A MOST SOLEMN ENQUIRY and the
enquiry for each one of us is this–If my life were to come to an end
tonight, would my end be better than my beginning? I said when I began
that my text must have some salt with it–and here I must use the salt.
There are some things that are best in the beginning and worst at the
end. There is, yonder, the sinner's feast. Bring in the dishes. Fill
the goblets with sparkling wine–drink deep and sing right merrily. The
lute and the harp are there and the feasters stand up and shout and
sing. But what is that I see? As the night wears away and the morning
light streams in through the windows, "who has woe? Who has redness of
the eyes?" Truly, the end of such feasts is worse than the beginning!
And in that ward of foul disease where they seem to sweep together the
rank refuse of what once was beauty, exceedingly fair to look upon,
truly we learn the lesson that in some cases the end is worse than the
beginning. Beware, you that go to the house of strange women, lest you
find that the end thereof is infinitely worse than the beginning! Stop
your feet before they enter there, lest you go like a bullock to the
slaughter, or a fool to the stocks. And if that one walk is so
notoriously worse in the end than it is in the beginning, such,
likewise, is every walk of sin. See the greedy man as he accumulates
money! Look at the beginning of it–he puts out his money to interest
and makes out his bonds. He takes security for debts and calls houses
and streets after his name. And then see the end of it. The old man is
haggard and wan. He cannot count his wealth, yet he fears he will die
in the workhouse. And when he thinks, in those intervals when his
senses come back and he realizes his own self, it is always with the
shuddering thought, "I must part with you, my treasures. I must part
with you all and go back to my mother earth as naked as I came into
it." So that, you see, there are times when the ending of a thing is a
great deal worse than the beginning.

Someone will doubtless say, "I am not like these men. I am neither
debauched nor avaricious." Well, I will take you at the best. Here is
your beginning–you are a respectable attendant at a place of
worship–you go because others go, not because your heart is right with
God. This is your beginning. I will suppose that for the next 20 or 30
years you will be spared to go on as you do now, professing religion as
far as outward attendance upon the means of Grace will make a
profession, but having no heart in the matter. Shall I show you your
end? Be hushed and silent, tread softly, for I must show you the
deathbed of such an one as yourself! Let us gaze upon him gently. Let
us not disturb him. A clammy sweat is on his brow and he wakes up and
cries, "O God, it is hard to die!" He says to his friends, "Did you
send for my minister?… "Yes, he is coming." The minister comes and
the poor fellow says to him, "Sir, I fear that I am dying." "Have you
any hope?" "I cannot say that I have any. I shall have to stand before
my God–oh, pray for me!" The prayer is offered for him with sincere
earnestness and the way of salvation is for the ten thousandth time put
before him. But before he has grasped the rope, I see him sink. Shall I
picture the scene further? I may put my finger upon those eyelids, for
they will never see anything here again. But where is the man and where
are the man's true eyes? Christ said of the rich man, "In Hell he
lifted up his eyes, being in torments."

And it is so with this man. But why did he not lift up his eyes before?
Because he got so accustomed to hear the Gospel that his soul went to
sleep under it! He cannot sleep now–"being in torments." There is no
sleep in Hell. Oh, what a blessing sleep would be if it could enter the
habitation of the damned! Alas, if any of you should lift up your eyes
there, what a sight you will behold! Here, if you drop off to sleep and
wake up in the Tabernacle, you see the faces of attentive listeners
hearing words of mercy–there, when first you lift up your eyes, you
will gaze into visages more marred with pain than any you have ever
seen before! And if you ask them the cause of their awful grief and why
agony, as with a red-hot plowshare, has made such deep furrows in their
cheeks, they will tell you that you need not ask them, for you will
soon learn the reason yourself! I cannot picture it. Let the Savior's
own Words tell you the terrible Truth of God–"The rich man cried and
said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me and send Lazarus, that he may
dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am
tormented in this flame." There is a frightful meaning in those words!
May you never have to spell it out by the red light of Jehovah's
wrath!–

"You sinners, seek His Grace,

Whose wrath you cannot bear!

Fly to the shelter of His Cross,

And find salvation there!"

Before this last Sabbath of the year closes, I pray that the Lord may
come down in mercy and visit those who have not yet received Christ,
that of them it may be truly said, "Better i s the end of this year
than the beginning thereof." God grant it for Jesus' sake! Amen.

EXPOSITION BY C. H. SPURGEON: PSALM116.

We have read this Psalm many times and have often felt it to be a
photograph of our own spiritual experience, but we will, on this
occasion, read it from one special point of view. Please notice that
this Psalm is exceedingly full of the letter, "I." Cast your eye down
the page and you will be struck with the number of times in which the
first person singular appears. Well, then, let us read the Psalm with
this view, and each of us for himself or herself say, "I," as the
Psalmist did if the Holy Spirit shall enable us to do so.

Verse 1. I love the LORD, because He has heard my voice and my
supplications. If this double declaration is true, it turns the reading
of the Psalm into a devout spiritual exercise for each one of us who
can rightly adopt the Psalmist's language. But can each one of us
truthfully say, "Lord, You know all things; You know that I love You"?
If I can honestly say, "I love the Lord," then I can give the reason
for the love that is in me. It is because He has loved me with an
everlasting love and because He has manifested that love, among many
other ways, in hearing "my voice and my supplications."

2. Because He has inclined His ear unto me, therefore willI call upon
Him as long as Ilive. "Whatever others may do or may not do, I will
call upon Him as long as I live, and I have a good reason for doing so,
'Because He has inclined His ear unto me.' He has stooped from His
Throne in Heaven to listen to my feeble voice. He has bowed Himself in
His majesty to listen to the appeal of my misery. I was brought down
very low in my sorrow, but the Lord brought His ear down as low as my
lips–'He has inclined His ear unto me' and because He has done that,
therefore my heart is inclined unto Him and I will call upon Him as
long as I live."

3. The sorrows of death compassed me."They formed a ring around me from
which I could see no way of escape. I was like a wounded stag that is
surrounded by fierce dogs."

3. And the pains of Hell got hold upon me. "The dogs of Hell had fixed
their cruel teeth in my throat so that it seemed impossible for me to
escape from them."

3. I found trouble and sorrow. "When I searched for something better, I
only found still more trouble and sorrow. I had enough of them without
finding any more, but the more I looked for anything else, the more
trouble and sorrow I found." This is a very graphic description of the
state of heart in which some of us have been more than once. We have
seen no way of escaping from it and we have been in great distress
because we could not discover any way of alleviating our grief.

4. Then I called upon the name of the LORD; O LORD, I beseech You,
deliver my soul. Do you remember, dear Friend, when you prayed such a
prayer as that–short, sharp, sincere, pointed, personal, out of the
depths of your soul? Then let your recollection of that prayer have so
gracious an influence upon your heart that in the remembrance of the
past mercy, when the Lord heard and answered your supplication, you may
find a well of present gratitude!

5. Gracious is thee LORD, and righteous; yes, our God is merciful
Listen to that blessed little sentence, those of you who are full of
sin, and who are therefore afraid that God will cast you away forever!
"Our God is merciful."

6. The Lord preserves the simple: I was brought low and He helped me.
There is here, first, a general Doctrine and then, there is a
particular proof and application of it. It is true, in a general sense,
that the Lord preserves the simple-hearted ones who have learned to
trust in Him. But, in particular, you or I, if saved by His Grace, can
say with the Psalmist, "I was brought low and He helped me." There is a
little book of medicine [See Sermon #240, Volume 5–prayer

ANSWERED, LOVE NOURISHED.] which Mr. John Wesley brought out

and he put to some of the recipes, the word "Proved." He had evidently
tried the medicine and proved it to be efficacious in his own case. In
a similar fashion, we can often put in the margin of our Bibles,
concerning the Word of the Lord, "Proved." We have tried it and proved
it–and therefore we also can personally say, "The Lord preserves the
simple: I was brought low, and He helped me."

7. Return unto your rest, O my soul, for the LORD has dealt bountifully
with you. Cannot we also, dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ, speak
well of our God tonight? If any of us have been wandering at all from
His Presence and so have lost the conscious sense of His love, let us
come back to Him at once! We cannot be happy anywhere else. God has
spoiled you and me, Beloved, for the world, so we must be happy in Him,
for we can never be satisfied anywhere else. Only in our God can our
joy be full. Come back then, my Soul, come back to your Lord! "Return
unto your rest, O my soul; for the Lord has dealt bountifully with
you." He is your true Noah. You can find no real rest anywhere else–
therefore return unto Him even as the dove flew back to the ark with
weary wings after wandering over the wild waste of waters.

8. For You have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, and
my feet from falling. "I have had a trinity of deliverances–my soul
saved from eternal ruin, my eyes delivered from the greatest grief of
all and my life saved from sinful stumbling! 'You have delivered my
soul from death, my eyes from tears, and my feet from falling.'" This
testimony is far in advance of that given in Psalm 56:13 where David
says, "You have delivered my soul from death: will not You deliver my
feet from falling, that I may walk before God in the light of the
living?"

9. I will walk before the LORD in the land of the living. "I will not
walk before some great man so as to seek to please him. I will not walk
before my fellow Believers so as to be merely looking for their
approbation. But, 'I will walk before the Lord.'" This is the best way
of living, so let it be yours and mine, Beloved. Let each of us say, "I
will walk before the Lord in the land of the living."

10. I believed, therefore have I spoken: I was greatly afflicted. I
call your attention again to the repeated use of the word, "I." Three
times in this one verse we have that little personal pronoun. And I
want you, each one, to take this whole Psalm to yourself so far as it
is suited to your case, to make an appeal of it while we are reading
it. "I believed, therefore have I spoken: I was greatly afflicted."

11. 12. I said in my haste, All men are liars. What shall I render unto
the LORD for all His benefits toward me?I expect that we have all of us
said in our haste some things that we had better not have said. They
may have been true, yet for all that, it was a pity that we uttered
them. Yet I am glad that the Psalmist, although he said, "All men are
liars," did not dwell upon that unpleasant truth, but speedily turned
from unreliable man to his ever-reliable God. "What shall I render unto
the Lord for all His benefits toward me?" If all men are liars, if all
earthly comforts fail us, if all human dependences disappoint us–our
God will not do so. Let us leave the broken cisterns without even
grumbling at them, or having bitter feelings concerning them. And let
us turn to God and let this be the question put by each one of us,
"What

shall I render unto the Lord for all His benefits toward me?" [See
Sermon #2758, Volume 47–"RETURN UNTO YOUR REST".] I suggest, dear
Friends, that we, each of us, personally put this question to
ourselves, "What shall I render unto the Lord? What can I do for Jesus?
What can I give to God? What is there, at this particular time, that I
can devise for the Glory of God in order to manifest my love to Him?"
Perhaps in this house, tonight, there may be the conception–perhaps
the birth–of some high and noble enterprise for God. If this question
shall be pressed home upon some ardent spirit here, there may be the
first thoughts, in this House of Prayer, of some far-reaching ministry
which shall be a means of blessing to many lands through all the ages
that are yet to come. God grant that it may be so! What shall I, a
young man just beginning life, render unto the Lord? What shall I, a
man in the full strength of his manhood, render unto the Lord? What
shall I–a man far advanced in years, mature and ripe for Heaven, lume
53 www.spurgeongems.org 7

and soon to be taken there–render unto the Lord? Whoever I am, let me
make haste to answer the question, "What shall I render unto the Lord
for all His benefits toward me?" [See Sermon #910, Volume
16–overwhelming obligations.]

13, 14. I will take the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the
LORD. I willpay my vows unto the LORD now in the presence of all His
people.There never was a better time than the present–and there never
was better place than this for some holy resolve concerning consecrated
service for the Master!

15. Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of His saints. They
are themselves at all times so precious to the Lord that everything
about them is very dear in His esteem–and they are never more precious
than in their deaths. [See

Sermon #1036, Volume 18–PRECIOUS DEATHS.] We constantly have some

of the very choicest of the Lord's saints going Home to their Father.
And when the Lord takes any of them Home to Himself, it becomes those
of us who are left to try to do all the more for our God. Let some of
us be baptized for the dead, let us press forward to fill the gaps in
the ranks of the armies of God and do all that lies in our power to win
the victory for His righteous cause!

16. O LORD, truly I am Your servant; I am Your servant, and the son of
Your handmaid: You have loosed my bonds.Still read this Psalm very
personally–you especially who have had godly mothers. Say, "I am a
born slave– born of one who was your slave, for I delight to use even
such a hard name as that. I am God's servant, born of one of God's
servants–'the son of Your handmaid.'" I like to remember that it was
so in my own case and I can truthfully say to the Lord, "I am Your
servant, and the son of Your handmaid." "You have loosed my bonds," by
making me to feel the bonds of your Grace. There is no liberty like
complete subjection to God. The greatest freedom of thought is to think
only God's thoughts–and the highest freedom of living is to live
according to the rule of holiness in the ways of the Most High.

17-19. I will offer to You the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and will call
upon the name ofthe Lord. I willpaymy vows unto the LORD now in the
presence of all His people. In the courts of the LORD'S house, in the
midst of you, O Jerusalem. Praise you the LORD. And we do and will
praise Him at this time and forever and ever.