The Desolations of the Lord, the Consolation of His Saints

The Desolations of the Lord, the Consolation of His Saints

A Sermon

(No. 190)

Delivered on Wednesday Morning, April 28, 1858, by the

REV. C.H. SPURGEON

at the Music Hall, Royal Surrey Gardens

On behalf of the Baptist Missionary Society.

"Come, behold the works of the Lord, what desolations he hath made in
the earth. He maketh wars to cease unto the end of the earth; he
breaketh the bow, and cutteth the spear in sunder, he burneth the
chariot in the fire."–Psalm 46:8-9.

IT SEEMS THAT EVERYTHING Christlike must have a history like that of
Christ. His beginnings were small–the manger and the stable. So with
the beginnings of that society which we love, and which we believe to
be the very incarnation of the Spirit of Christ. Its beginnings also
were small; but its latter end shall doubtless greatly increase–for,
hath not the end of Christ become exceedingly glorious? He hath
ascended up on high; he sitteth at the right hand of God, our Father;
and doubtless this agency which God now employeth for the conversion of
the world, shall have its ascension, and God shall greatly magnify it.
But as Christ was called to suffer, so must everything Christlike
suffer with him. The Christian who is the most like his Master will
understand the most of the meaning of that term, "fellowship with him
in his sufferings;" and inasmuch as the Missionary Society is like
Christ, and hath Christ's heart, and Christ's aim, it also must suffer
like Jesus. This year we have been made to sip of that cup. The blood
of our martyrs has been shed; our confessors have witnessed to the
faith of the Lord Jesus; at the hands of bloodthirsty and cruel men
they have met their fate, and again the seed of the church has been
sown in the blood of the martyred saint.

I felt that in addressing you this day, it would be far from me to
offer you any advice or counsel, when I am but as the youngest among
you all, but that I might be permitted, as sometimes the child doth
comfort its parents, to utter some few words of consolation which might
cheer you in the present distress, and nerve your arm for future combat
with the great enemy of souls. And upon what subject could I address
you, which could be more full of consolation than the present? "Come,
behold the works of the Lord." Turn ye from man's bloodshed, and behold
your God at work; and from the desolations of rebellion and carnage,
and anarchy, turn your eyes here to the desolations which the Lord hath
made in the earth. You see how, though the battle-bow still doth twang
with the arrow, and though the spear is still imbrued in the heart's
blood of men, yet he breaks the bow, and cuts the spear in sunder, and
burns the chariot in the fire.

We shall regard this text this morning, first, as a declaration of what
has happened, and secondly, as a promise of what shall be achieved.

I. First of all, we shall look upon it AS A DECLARATION OF WHAT HAS
ALREADY OCCURRED. "Come, behold the works of the Lord, what desolations
he hath made in the earth."

1. And now let us commence the discussion of this part of our subject,
by inviting you to the sad spectacle of the desolations which God in
his providence has in different ages brought upon divers nations. As it
is said of man, that he is full of trouble, so it is with nations; they
also are full of sorrows, and some of them exceeding bitter. Wars have
devastated countries; plagues have thinned our populations; all kinds
of evil have swept athwart the most potent empires, and many of them
have been compelled, at last, to yield to the destroying angel, and
they slumber with the mighty dead. Doubtless there hath a wail gone up
from the face of the earth, when the invasions of barbarians have put
an end to the promise of civilization–when cities, renowned for the
culture of the arts and sciences, have suddenly become sacked and
burned–when nations that had made great advances in knowledge have
been carried away captive, and the sun has been made to go back many a
degree on the dial of the earth's history.

But I beg you now turn your eyes, and read the page of history, and
mark the various catastrophes which have happened to this world; and I
appeal to you, as persons who have understanding, and who can trace the
Lord's hand in these matters–have not all these things worked together
for good? and hitherto, have not the revolutions, the destructions of
empires, and the falls of dynasties, been eminent helps to the progress
of the gospel? Far be it from us to lay the blood of men at God's door.
Let us not for one moment be guilty of any thought that the sin and the
iniquity which have brought war into the world is of God; but, at the
same time, as firm believers in the doctrine of predestination, and as
firmly holding the great truth of a divine providence, we must hold
that God is the author of the darkness as well as of the light–that he
creates the providential evil as well as the good–that while he
sendeth the shower from on high, he also is the father of the
devastating storm. Oh! I say, then, come and see the Lord's hand in
"Aceldama, the field of blood." Come ye, and behold the Lord's hand in
every shake of the pillars of the constitutions of the monarchies of
earth. See the Lord's hand in the crumbling of every tower and the
tumbling down of every pinnacle which had aspired to heaven. For he
hath done it–he hath done it! God is present everywhere.

And now, I again say, can you not see in all these things, a gracious
as well as a terrible God? Can you not feel that everything that has
yet happened to the world, has really been for its good? Wars,
contusions, and tumults, are but the rough physic wherewith God will
purge the diseased body of this earth from its innumerable ills. They
are but a terrible tornado with which God shall sweep away the
pestilence and fever that lurk in the moral atmosphere; they are but
the great hammers with which he breaks in pieces the gates of brass, to
make a way for his people; they are but the threshing wains, with which
he doth thresh the mountains and beat them small, and make the hills as
chaff, that Israel may rejoice in the Lord, and that the sons of Jacob
may triumph in their God. As it hath been in the beginning, so it shall
be even unto the end. The noise and the tumult of war in India shall
produce good; the blood of our sisters shall be avenged, not by the
sword, but by the gospel. On India's blood-red gods, the arm of the
Lord shall yet be felt; the might of him that sits upon the throne
shall be acknowledged by the very men, who, first in the fray, have
blasphemed the God of Israel. Let us not fear, let us not tremble; the
end of all things cometh at last, and that end shall certainly be the
desired one, and all the wrath of man shall not frustrate the designs
of God. The past troubles assure us for the present, and console us for
the future. "Come, behold the works of the Lord, what desolation. he
hath made in the earth."

2. But now, turning from this somewhat dreary subject, I must invite
you next to look at some desolations which will ever be fair in the eye
of the follower of Jesus–the desolations of false worship. What a
pleasant theme! O that we had but power truly to enlarge upon it! Will
you turn your minds back to the origin of idolatry, and tell me, if you
can, what were the names of the first gods whom men profanely
worshipped? Are they known? Are not their names blotted out from
history? Or, if any of them be mentioned, are they not a by-word, a
hissing, and a reproach? What shall we say of idolatries which are of
later date–those which have been noted in Holy Scripture, and
therefore handed down to infamy? Who is he that now bows before the god
of Egypt? Hath the sacred Ibis now a worshipper? Do any prostrate
themselves before the Nile, and drink her sweet waters, and think her a
deity? Hath not that idolatry passed away? and are not the temple and
the obelisk still standing–"the desolations which the Lord hath made
in the earth?" Talk we of the gods of Philistia? Do we mention Baal and
Dagon? Where are they? We hear their names; they are but the records of
the past; but who is he that doth them homage? Who doth now kiss his
hands to the queen of heaven? Who boweth himself in the grove of
Ashtaroth, or who worshippeth the hosts of heaven, and the chariots of
the sun? They have gone! they have gone! Jehovah still standeth, "the
same yesterday, to-day, and for ever." One generation of idols hath
passed away, and another cometh, and the desolations stand–memorials
of the might of God.

Turn ye now your eyes to Assyria, that mighty empire. Did she not sit
alone? She said she should see no sorrow. Remember Babylon, too, who
boasted with her. But where are they, and where are now their gods?
With ropes about their necks they have been dragged in triumph by our
discoverers; and now in the halls of our land, they stand as memorials
of the ignorance of a race that is long since extinct. And then, turn
ye to the fairer idolatries of Greece and Rome. Fine poetic conceptions
were their gods! theirs was a grand idolatry, one that never shall be
forgotten. Despite all its vice and lust, there was such a high mixture
of the purest poetry in it, that the mind of man, though it will ever
recollect it with sorrow, will still think of it with respect. But
where are their gods? Where are the names of their gods? Are not the
stars the last memorials of Jupiter, Saturn, and Venus? As if God would
make his universe the monument of his destroyed enemy! Where else are
their names to be found? Where shall we find a worshipper who adores
their false deity? They are past, they are gone! To the moles and to
the bats are their images cast, while many an unroofed temple, many a
dilapidated shrine, stand as memorials of that which was, but is
not–and is passed away for ever.

I suppose there is scarce a kingdom of the world where you do not see
God's handiwork in crushing his enemies. It is to the shame of the
idolater that he worships a god that his fathers knew not. Although
there be some hoary systems of iniquity, in most cases the system is
still new–new compared with the giant mountains, the first-born of
nature–new compared with these old idolatries that have long since
died away in the clouds of forgetfulness. It seems to me to be a very
pleasing theme for us to speak of these desolations that God has made,
For mark this–again we say it–as it was in the beginning, it is now,
and ever shall be. The false gods shall yet yield their sway; the
temples shall yet be unroofed; their houses shall be burned with fire,
and their names shall be left for a reproach. their dignity shall not
be honored, neither shall homage be given unto their name O thou that
fearest for the ark of the Lord, thou that tremblest at the firmness
with which falsehood keeps its throne, look thou on these desolations
and be of good cheer; God hath done mighty things, and he will do them
yet again. One can never pass, even in our own country, a ruined abbey,
or a destroyed priory, or an old broken down cathedral, without a sweet
satisfaction. They are fair ruins, all the fairer because they are
ruined, because their inhabitants are forgotten, because the monk no
longer prowls our streets, because the nun, though she is here and
there to be found, yet is no more honored, because the apostate church
to which they belong has ceased to have power among us, as once it had.
We will, therefore, seek to honor God, and in all our journeyings we
will think of this text–"Come, behold the works of the Lord, what
desolations he hath made in the earth."

3. And now, in the next place, let me ask you to remember what
desolations God has made with false philosophies. As for stones and
timbers, they are things that must decay in the common course of
nature, and one might be apt to think that some of the desolate temples
we behold were rather the trophies of the tooth of time, than of the
hand of God, but thought is a lasting thing: a bold philosophy that
shapes into words the wandering thoughts which have taken possession of
the hearts of men is an enduring thing; and how have some philosophers
believed that they were writing books which would be read for ages!
They believed that their philosophy most certainly was eternal, and
that to the last day their disciples would be had in reverence. Let any
classical student remember how many systems of philosophy have passed
away before the progress of the kingdom of Christ. The mighty
Stagyrite, once the great master of all minds, who even held in sway
many a Christian spirit, at last lost his empire before a purer truth.
But I forbear to mention these things; I would rather allude to the
passing away of false systems of philosophy in modern times;for there
are some of our fathers here, whose hairs have but just turned grey,
who can remember the rise and fall of some seven or eight theories of
infidelity. You can look back, and you can remember when it was a
cursing obscenity with Tom Paine, having just also been the leering,
scowling thing that Voltaire made it. You remember how it was the
soaring, airy, speculating, scheming thing of Robert Owen; and then you
recollect how it became the base, grovelling thing called Secularism.
Men have trembled at that, and have thought it will last. I believe I
shall live to see the last Secularist buried, and that at the funeral
there will be attending the leader of some new system of infidelity,
who, despite his hatred to God, will have to say over the tomb, out of
very spite against the one who precedes him, "Here lies a fool, yclept
a Secularist." You need not be afraid of these things; they live each a
very little while. A near moon brings a new phase of the system. The
thing that they have fashioned with the utmost diligence, and which
they deliver with the most earnest declamation, which they think they
have proved with the sureness of logic, which they have built, as they
think, upon a rock, against which the gates of heaven shall not
prevail, how soon it is crumbled to dust, and not a vestige of it is
left–scarce a remembrance of it–but all is past away and gone. And
even so shall it be. As it was in the beginning, it is now, and ever
shall be. "Every tongue that riseth against thee in judgment thou shalt
condemn." The words of the wise are like the leaves of the tree of
life, and they fade not; but the words of the wicked are like the
autumn leaves, all withered, soon to become skeletons, and be blown
away by the blast, to be heard of no more.

Planted by the rivers of water, the tree of the church still groweth,
like a young cedar, fresh and green. But these things are like the
heath in the desert: they see not when good cometh; from earth itself
they fail to draw their nourishment, and heaven denies to the cursed
thing its genial shower, and therefore soon it dies, and without a
memorial it passeth away. Be of good cheer, beloved! It matters not
where the enemy attack our intrenchments, they have been, and they
shall be routed. We tell the enemies of Christ to look to the thousand
defeats that they have suffered beforehand; we warn them of their folly
in attacking us again. Woe unto you! woe unto you! Though ye quit
yourselves like men, ye Philistines, ye must, ye shall be servants unto
Israel. Woe unto you, for the voice of a king is in our midst! Your
fathers felt our might. Remember who it was that cut Rahab and wounded
the dragon. Your sires have trembled before us; our fathers put ten
thousand of your sires to flight, and we will do the same with you; and
when we have done it we will say of you, "Aha! aha! aha!" and will make
you a byword with our children, and a proverb with our menials for
ever.

4. But my text has a special reference to war–the desolation of war.
Have you not noticed how magnificently peace winneth its reprisals at
the hand of war? Look through this country. Methinks if the angel of
peace should go with us, as we journey through it, and stop at the
various ancient towns where there are dismantled castles, and high
mounds from which every vestige of a building has long been swept, the
angel would look us in the face, and say, "I have done all this:
warscattered my peaceful subjects, burned down my cottages, ravaged my
temples, and laid my mansions with the dust. But I have attacked war in
his own strongholds and I have routed him. Walk through his halls. Can
you hear now the tramp of the warrior? Where now the sound of the
clarion and the drum?" The sheep is feeding from the cannon's mouth,
and the bird builds his nest where once the warrior did hang his
helmet. As rare curiosities we dig up the swords and spears of our
forefathers, and little do we reck that in this we are doing tribute to
peace. For peace is the conqueror. It hath been a long duel, and much
blood hath been shed, but peace hath been the victor. War, after all,
has but spasmodic triumphs; and again it sinks–it dies, but peace ever
reigneth. If she be driven from one part of the earth, yet she dwelleth
in another; and while war, with busy hand, is piling up here a wall,
and there a rampart, and there a tower, peace with her gentle finger,
is covering over the castle with the mees and the ivy, and eating the
stone from the top, and letting it lie level with the earth.

I think this is a fine thought for the lover of peace; and who among us
is not? Who among us ought not to be? Is not the gospel all peace? And
do we not believe, that when the gospel is fully preached, and has its
day, wars must cease, to the end of the earth! I therefore say, beloved
brothers and sisters, may we not console ourselves under all the recent
outbreaks of a most bloodthirsty and cruel massacre, in the fact, that
God hath made desolations, even in war. He hath made desolations in the
earth, and, as it hath been, so shall it be even unto the end. There is
not now a rampart which shall not be sealed by peace. O ye hoary
bastions, ye shall yet be destroyed, not by the cannon ball, but by
something mightier still. Charged with love, this day we shoot against
you the great guns of the gospel of Christ, and we believe that they
shall move and shake you to your deep foundations, and ye shall
crumble; or if ye stand, ye shall be uninhabited, except by the owl and
the bittern. I have a fond belief that the day is coming, when Nelson,
on the top of his monument, shall be upset, and Mr. Whitfield set
there, or the apostle Paul. I believe that Napier, who stands in the
square there, will lose his station. We shall say about these men,
"They were very respectable men in the days of our forefathers, who did
not know better than to kill one another; but we do not care for them
now!" Up goes John Wesley where stood Napier! Away goes some one else,
who was an earnest preacher of the gospel, to occupy the place high
over the gate where another warrior rides upon his horse. All these
things, the trickery of an ignorant age, the gewgaws of a people who
loved bloodshed despite their profession of religion, must yet be
broken up for old iron and old brass; every statue that stands in
London shall yet be sold, and the price thereof cast at the apostles'
feet, that they may make distribution as every man hath need. Wars must
cease, and every place where war reigneth and hath now its glory, must
yet pass away, and fade and wither. We give all honor to these men now,
for these are the days of our ignorance, and God in some degree winketh
at us; but when the gospel spreads, we shall then find that when every
heart is full of it, it will be impossible for us to tolerate the very
name of war; for when God has broken the bow and burned the chariot, we
shall break the image and dash the sculpture into a thousand atoms, We
shall think, when the trade is done, the men that did it may well be
forgotten.

II. I think there is enough to cheer our hearts, and nerve us all for
the great battle of Christ. The desolations of the past should lead us
to hope that there shall be the like, and greater, in the future. And
now I am to look upon my text, and very briefly, AS A PROPHECY WHICH IS
TO BE FULFILLED.

I should only needlessly occupy your time, if I were to go over all my
heads again, because really every person will be quite as competent as
I am to discern how what hath been shall be in a yet higher sense. But
we must observe once more, in noticing this as a prophecy, the figure
of our text. It was usual, after a great battle, and especially if
peace was then firmly established, for the conquerors to gather up the
arms of the vanquished into one great heap, and then setting fire to it
all, as Israel did to the spoils of Jericho, everything was consumed.
One of these days, when Christ shall come in his glory, or when the
kingdoms of this world shall become the kingdoms of our Lord and of his
Christ–not to say anything which would look like proclaiming the
second coming here to-day, although I most firmly believe it, and am
sorry that we should ever have allowed, in any of our missionary
meetings, any discussion upon a point which involves the faith of a
great proportion of us, who hold this to be as dear and precious a
doctrine as any other in the word of God, and we therefore think it
unfair that we should at any time have anything said against this; when
we meet together in the common bond of union for the spread of the
gospel of Christ, we think it a sore thing that we should be attacked
then; however, leaving all that, whether it be by a spiritual or a by a
personal coming–we believe that one of these days, we shall be roused
from our beds by one who shall say to us, "Come, behold the works of
the Lord, what desolations he hath made in the earth;" and when we
arrive at the spot appointed, it may be, as the old Ephesians brought
out all their books and burned them in the street, we shall see our
soldiers marching rank and file, and lay down their arms, and all that
they have of murderous implements, piling them into one heap; and happy
is that mother's child who shall be there to see it! But see it some
one shall, when it shall be truly said, as the fire is kindled over all
these things,."He breaketh the bow, and cutteth the spear in sunder; he
burneth the chariot in the fire."

Happy the day, when every war-horse shall be houghed, when every spear
shall become a pruning-hook, and every sword shall be made to till the
soil which once it stained with blood. It is of that my text
prophecies, and my text naturally brings me to that, as the great
climax of the gospel. This will be the last triumph of Christ, before
death itself shall be dead, death's great jackal, war, must die also,
and then shall there be peace on earth, and the angel shall say, "I
have gone up and down through the earth, and the earth sitteth still
and is at rest; I heard no tumult of war, nor noise of battle." This is
what we hope for. Let us fight on, with diligence and earnestness.

And now, having thus enlarged upon my text, you will permit me to offer
a few remarks on a more practical subject.

The question naturally arises, "Why has not this promise been more
abundantly fulfilled in our own times" Many say, "This is divine
sovereignty." Well, we believe divine sovereignty with all our hearts;
it is a doctrine which we delight to dwell upon, and ever to
acknowledge; but we cannot make divine sovereignty the great sepulcher
for our sins. We cannot have it that everything is to be laid at the
door of divine sovereignty. We believe there is a sovereignty that ever
overrules the sins of the church, as well as of the world. We hold that
in the highest and purest sense, but we do think it is a very gross
mistake for us always to be saving, if we are defeated, "It is divine
sovereignty." Israel of old did not say so. They looked for the
accursed thing that was in the camp. They did not say, "Divine
sovereignty," when they were beaten by Benjamin; but they enquired of
the Lord. They were not content to say it was sovereignty. It was
sovereignty, no doubt. but they desired to find another reason which,
when discovered, might help them to remove the difficulty, and enable
them to conquer.

And now, beloved, there are many reasons, I think, why we do not
prosper as we could desire in the missionary field; and permit me very
briefly to hint at one or two. I shall mean no offense to any.

One reason is, because we have not a thorough and entire unanimity with
regard to the matter. Now, I know something of the Baptist
denomination. I have wandered through every county of England, pretty
well, and been to a great number of the churches, and I grieve to see
that there are many of our churches still standing totally aloof from
the missionary field. If they stood aloof from our particular society,
I might not so much regret, if they chose to have one of their own; but
they have not one of their own either. There is the great thing for
which I would blame them. That they should have some objection to unite
with those whom they think to be different from them in doctrinal
opinions, would not only be excusable, but possibly there might be
occasions when it would be praiseworthy; but that any of us, who hold
strongly the doctrines of the grace of God, and who, perhaps, give
greater prominence than others to the truth as it was taught by Calvin,
and, as we believe, taught by Christ, should therefore have no
missionary society, is a great and crying sin; and I really think that
a defection of a large part of our body, however it may be caused, may
be one reason why we have not had such an abundant blessing from God.
For, look ye here! Ye say ye can do without them. Very well: so said
the people to Joshua, when he led his troops to attack Ai. They said,
"Let not all the people go up, but let about two or three thousand men
go up and smite Ai; and make not all the people to labor thither; for
they are but few." They thought it would be unnecessary, and Joshua
left behind him a large part, and only took with him his strong,
able-bodied men. But, together with "the accursed thing" that Achan had
concealed, I believe that the want of all the army of Israel was a
part-cause of the defeat at Ai. So it is with us. Ah! if there be a
means whereby we can get every brother who calls himself a Baptist to
unite himself with this society, if there be any method of love, if
there be any way of making concessions, if there be any mode or any
means whereby we all could be bound together in the holy brotherhood as
a denomination, I think we are each of us bound to make it. I am sure,
as far as I am concerned, I may say that there is not to be found upon
the surface of the world one more strongly attached to the old faith,
as I believe it to be–the old, strong, doctrinal faith–coupled with
the earnest preaching of the gospel to every creature; yet I find
myself not out of place in preaching for a Baptist Mission, nor out of
place in helping it, and throwing my whole heart into it. It seems to
me, it was founded by ourselves: the very men who held these truths
were the first leaders in it; and it seems to me the most strange and
marvellous thing, that any brother should, from his love to sound
doctrine, stand aloof from missions. I am sure it is a stab against our
prosperity as churches at home, if we do not come forward to help the
missions at large.

I am just saying this, because it may reach to the ears of many of the
brethren who are possibly not present to-day. I trust they will think
the matter over. We do not ask them to come with us–we will be very
glad if they will–but do let them at the very least have a society of
their own. Let them be doing something, and do not let it be said that
there is a Baptist existing who does not love to send the gospel to the
utmost ends of the earth. That maniac nonsense about God doing his own
work, and our sitting still and doing nothing, ought to have been
buried long ago. I know not how to characterise it: it has done us
immense damage. We know that God has accomplished his own work; but he
always has worked and always will work with means. The men who do not
approve of working by means, and stand by and say, "I do not sympathise
with it," I do not wonder that God does not work with them: they do not
deserve to be worked with, if they think so. Let us cast away that, and
let us say, "If we can agree with these brethren who associate in
missions we will do so; if we cannot agree with those who associate in
one society, we will do it somehow else; but do it we will, for it is
our anxious wish that the kingdoms of this world should become the
kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ." But again, it is not all that,
my brethren. It is a want of real love to missions in all our churches:
and if this should fall scatheless and if any should say, "It is not so
of the church of which I am a member," let it be so; I do not mean,
when I speak generally, to include each individual. It is, I believe,
one reason of our want of success, or of that measure of want of
success that we have, that there is not a true love of missions in the
churches that really help them. Many love missions; they love the cause
of Christ; but they do not love Zion better than their own households.
but, as far as I can judge, there are many whose attention to the
mission field is confined to that one day in the year when the sermon
is preached. Some of them confine that day very closely too; for the
very smallest threepenny piece that can be discovered is appropriated
to the collection on that occasion. They love the mission, yes, they
do, but their love is that old sort, of which it is said, "She never
told her love." They never tell it by any contribution, but they keep
it very still in their hearts. We cannot think but that they do desire
that the gospel should fly abroad, for they sing it with lusty lungs
and with voice vociferous; but when there is aught to be dune, they
pinch and screw–the purse-string is made half the ordinary
circumference, and it cannot be undrawn. There is little to be given
for Christ. Christ must take the dregs, the sweepings of their wealth.
Ah! if our churches loved missions, if we had more of the true Spirit
in our midst, we should find scores of our young men rising up to go
out and preach the gospel to the heathen; and then the church, taking
an interest in the young men who sprang from its own bowels, would
think it its duty to maintain its missionary, and send him forth
preaching the gospel to every creature.

I remember Edward Irving once preached a sermon to a vast congregation,
upon missions; I think he preached for four hours; and the object of
the sermon was to prove that we were all wrong–that we ought to send
out our missionaries without purse or scrip, giving them nothing!
Edward never volunteered to go himself! If he had done so at the end of
the sermon, we might have endorsed his philosophy. But he stayed at
home, and did not go. Now, we are no believers in that. We think that
if a man cannot have help, it is his business to go without it. If a
man loves the ministry, if he can only preach Christ's gospel in
poverty, God bless him in his poverty; if he has to be a tent maker,
like Paul, and to work for his own living, and to go forth without
purse or script.But as a church we cannot have that. "No, no;" we say,
"brother, if you are going to a foreign land, and you give your life
and health, and if you renounce the comforts of your family, we cannot
let you go without anything. The least we can do is to provide for your
needs." And one says, "There! though you go without purse or scrip, you
cannot get across the sea except you have a ship, I will pay your
passage-money." Another says, "You cannot preach to these people
without learning the language; and while you are learning the language
you must eat and drink. It is quite impossible that you can live by
faith, unless you have something that you can nourish your body with:
there is the fund to support you, that you may give all your time to
the preaching of the word." Ah! if we did but love Christ better, my
brothers' and sisters, if we lived nearer to the cross, if we knew more
of the value of his blood, if we wept like him over Jerusalem, if we
felt more what it was for souls to perish, and what it was for men to
be saved–if we did but rejoice with Christ in the prospect of his
seeing the travail of his soul, and being abundantly satisfied–if we
did but delight more in the divine decree, that the kingdoms of this
world shall be given to Christ, I am sure we should all of us find more
ways and more means for the sending forth the gospel of Christ.

But to conclude. Perhaps, I may say, and some of you may with tears
confess it is true, it is a want of a revived godliness in our church
at home which prevents our hoping for any great success abroad. Ah!
brethren, we must till our own vineyards better, or else God will not
make us successful in driving the plough across the broad acres of the
continents. We want to have our brethren more earnest in prayer. Look
at our prayer-meetings–a miserable handful of people, compared with
the congregation. We want to have them more earnest in labor. Look at
many of our agencies, dying for want of effective laborers, when they
are to be found, but they are not willing to come forth. Where is the
zeal of olden times? We are not among those that say, "The former times
were better than now." In some respects they were, in others not so
good; but if they were better, it is not ours to bemoan, but ours to
labor to make these better still. We want–gathering up all things into
one–we want the outpouring of the divine Spirit in our churches at
home. Just as the anointing oil was first poured on Aaron's head, and
then went to the skirts of the garment, so must the Holy Spirit be
poured on England, and then shall it go to the utmost borders of the
habitable earth. We want to have Penticosts at home, and then, Hedes
and Parthians and Elamites shall hear the word. "Begin at Jerusalem,"
is Christ's ordinance, and it is Christ's method. We must begin there;
and as we begin there, in circles wider and wider and wider, yet the
gospel shall spread, till, "like a sea of glory, it spreads from pole
to pole."

Now, dear brethren and sisters, in repairing to our homes this morning,
let us carry away at least one thought. Let us believe firmly that
God's purpose shall be accomplished; let us hope joyously that we may
be the instruments of its accomplishment; and then let us labor
prayerfully, that our wishes may be consummated. What is there that you
can do to-day for Christ? Oh! if you love Christ, do not let this day
pass till you have done something for him. Speak for him; give to him;
pray for him. But let each day be spent as a mission day, and be you
each day a missionary for Christ. Begin at home. Enlarge your charity;
but begin first at home. Let your own houses be cared for, and then
your own synagogues; and then, after that, you may send your
missionaries to every part of the earth. I beg for a good collection
to-day. It is the first time we have met together in this place, and
there is a large number of us; if we do not give a right good
collection to-day, we shall not save our own credit. That is a poor way
of putting it. It will be a disgrace to us if we do not give well
to-day; but besides that, if we save our own credit, we shall not
approve our love to Jesus. Give as God hath given to you.
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