The New Song

The New Song
A Sermon
(No. 496)
Delivered on Sunday Evening, December 28th, 1862, by the
Rev. C. H. SPURGEON,
At the Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington
"O sing unto the Lord a new song; for he hath done marvellous things:
his right hand, and his holy arm, hath gotten him the victory."–Psalm
98:1.
THERE MUST BE NEW SONGS on new occasions of triumph. It would have been
absurd for Miriam with her timbrel to conduct the music of the
daughters of Israel to some old sonnet that they had learned in Egypt.
Nay, an old song could not have spoken out the feelings of that
generation, much less could it have served to utter a voice, the
jubilant notes of which distant posterity should echo. They must have a
new song while they cry the one unto the other, "Sing unto the Lord,
for he hath triumphed gloriously: the horse and his rider hath he
thrown into the sea." The like had never been known before, but
henceforth father to son must show forth its fame. In after times, when
Deborah and Barak had routed the hosts of Sisera, they did not borrow
Miriam's song; but they had a new psalm for the new event. They said,
"Awake, awake, Deborah; awake, awake, utter a song: arise, Barak, and
lead thy captivity captive, thou son of Abinoam." In after years, at
the building of the temple, or on the solemn feast days, it was ever
the wont of the inspired poets of the age to cry, "O come, let us sing
unto the Lord a new song." Thus the grateful notes of praise have
gathered volume and augmented their compass as the ages have rolled
onwards; and these as it were only the rehearsals for a grand oratorio.
What then, shall be the marvellous novelty and the matchless glory of
that song which shall be sung at the last upon Mount Zion, when ten
thousand times ten thousand of the warriors of God shall surround Jesus
the conqueror, when we shall hear a voice from heaven as the voice of
many waters, and like great thunders, when shall be heard the voice of
harpers, harping with their harps; what shall be, I say, the strange
novelty of that new song which they shall sing before the throne, when
the four and twenty elders and the four living creatures shall fall
before God upon their faces, and worship him for ever and ever? Would
that our ears could anticipate that tremendous burst of "Hallelujah!
hallelujah! hallelujah! the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth."
I want to carry your minds, if I can, to-night, for a little season to
that last and grandest, because the decisive victory, which shall tell
out the name and fame of Jehovah in all his mighty attributes, and in
all his majestic deeds, when the battle shall be over for ever, and the
banner shall be furled and the sword shall be sheathed, because the
last foe shall be destroyed, and placed beneath the feet of the
Almighty victor; "His right hand, and his holy arm, hath him the
victory." My text seems, however suitable it may be to other occasions,
to be most fitting to that last and most splendid triumph.
Three things there are in it: victory transcendent; Deity conspicuous;
holiness glorified.
I. First in our text we perceive very clearly VICTORY TRANSCENDENT.
What shall we say of that victory? The shouts thereof already greet our
ears, and the anthem that celebrates it is already prepared, when all
the principalities and powers of this world shall be laid low, the
pride of earth shall burst like a bubble, the great globe itself shall
dissolve, and the things that are seen shall be folded up like a
vesture, worn out, and crumbled with decay, that victory will be
transcendent; there shall be none comparable to it; it shall stand
matchless and unrivalled in all the wars of God, of angels, or men.
Well, we must say of that victory, there shall be none to dispute the
claim of God the Most High. The most splendid victories of one army
have frequently been claimed by the opposite partisans. If you stand
beneath the triumphal arch in Paris, you will see the names of some
battles which you simple-minded Englishmen always thought had been won
by British soldiers; but you discover that our history was all a
mistake, and that the Frenchmen really retired victorious from the
plain. I suppose in America it is always difficult to ascertain who has
been the conqueror; and where there are no generals, and the whole
affair seems to be which shall kill the most and wade through the most
blood, there naturally must be difficulty in ascertaining who has won
the day. But in this case there shall be no dispute whatever. The
dragon's head shall be so completely broken, that he can do nothing but
bite his iron bonds and growl out his confession that God is stronger
than he. The hosts of hell shall have been so utterly routed, that the
deep groans of dismay and shrieks of terror shall be the confession
that Omnipotence rules their terrible doom. As for Death, when he shall
see his captives all loosed before his eyes; as for the grave, when the
key shall be rent from her grip, and all her treasures plucked from her
grasp–death and the grave shall both acknowledge that their victory is
gone for ever; Christ has been the conqueror, the Son of God who in our
nature has already taken away the sting. There may be to-day some who
write their names down as Atheists; there may be others who openly avow
that they are the adversaries of God; and throughout the universe there
are never wanting those who are hopeful that the issue will turn out as
they wish–they are hopeful that wrong will master right; that evil
shall drive out good, and darkness extinguish light. But there shall
not be one such being left on that great day of victory; it shall be
acknowledged even by the lip of despair that the Lord God, "with his
own right hand, and his holy arm, hath gotten him the victory."
Blazoned across the sky in lightnings such as the eye of terror has
never beheld before; thundered out with trumpet louder than even that
which startled the sleeping dead, every tongue in earth and hell shall
confess, because every ear hath heard, that the Lord reigneth, and is
king for ever and ever.
But further, as this victory will be certainly beyond all dispute, let
me remind you it will be transcendent, because there shall be nothing
that can occur to mar it. When the last shock of the dread artillery
shall have been endured by the hosts of God's elect; when the last
charge shall have driven the foes before them as thin clouds fly before
a Biscay gale; then, as the heroes sit down to read the story of the
war, they shall discover that there is nothing to mar the splendor of
that glory, for it has been a victory throughout. Of all other
victories we read, at one time the balance trembled–sometimes the host
on this side wavered; perhaps for the first half day it seemed not only
doubtful which would win, but it appeared as though the adversary at
length defeated would certainly be the conqueror. But, beloved, when we
shall read history in the light of heaven, we shall discover that God
was never conquered–that never did the ranks reel; we shall see that
even the most disastrous strokes of Providence, even the most dire
calamities that ever occurred to the Church, were only the on-march,
the tramp of victories yet to come. I am certain that those things we
most deplore to-day will even become the subjects of the most
marvellous gratitude to-morrow. We look to-day upon the black side of
the question, and say, "Ah! here, indeed, goodness was foiled;" but
when we look at the whole matter through, we shall see that every dark
and bending line meets in the center of the divine plan, and that which
seemed the most incongruous and out of place with its fellow, was the
most fitting and the most necessary of the whole programme. Satan at
the last shall not be able to put his finger upon any spot of the
battle-field and say, "Here my hosts routed the troops of Emmanuel."
Everywhere it shall be seen that, from the dawning day, when first he
struck the blow at Eve and made her sin, to the very last, when Christ
shall drag him up the everlasting hills, led captive at his chariot
wheels, from the first to the last, the Lord's "right hand, and his
holy arm, hath gotten him the victory."
Remember, too, that this is a victory all along the line. The general's
cautious eye marks that there the left wing has driven the adversary
back, but for that right wing bring up the reserves, let not the ranks
be broken. Stern liners, let your chivalry be seen yonder for that wing
reels. Generally in the battle some part must fail, while in this
portion or the other there shall be success. Ah! but at the last when
Christ shall stand, and bare his brow in heaven's sunlight, and all his
angels shall be with him, it shall be seen that they were everywhere
triumphant. The blood on Madagascar's rocks shall not defeat the
on-march of God's armies. Saints may be burned, may be sawn in sunder,
may wander about in sheep skins and goat skins, but they shall be
victorious everywhere. Spain may shut her gates against the gospel, and
the inquisition may make that place its stronghold, but as sure as
there is a God in heaven, Christ shall be conqueror there. Tyrants may
pass edicts to exterminate Christians, conclaves may make decrees to
drive out the religion of Jesus, but in every place, in every land,
where ever foot of man has trodden this green earth, shall there be
victory; from the north to the south, from the east to the west,
everywhere shall be triumph–China and Japan, Brazil and Chili, the
islands of the south, the frozen regions of the north, even Africa with
her sable sons, the dwellers in the wilderness shall bow before him and
lick the dust at his feet. There shall be victory all along the line.
Not from one place merely, but from all, shall be heard the tune–"His
own right hand, and his holy arm, hath gotten him the victory."
And it shall be a victory Sustained by the news of the morrow. Not so
among the embattled hosts of men. How hard to brook the morrow! Then
the general's brow is dark, and his eye is heavy, for the list of the
dead and wounded is brought in for inspection. "Another victory like
this," says one, "and I am defeated for ever. It is dearly purchased,"
saith he, "with the blood of these mothers' sons. My comrades and
companions in arms must bite the ground to let the country live." But
in that last great battle of God the muster-roll shall be found without
one missing in it; as they call their names they shall all answer,
there shall not be one left dead upon the field. "How so? How so?"
saith unbelief, "are they not dead and buried now? Have not their
bodies lain to bleach upon the side of the Alps? Have they not been
burned in the fire and scattered as ashes to the four winds? Do not the
saints sleep to-day in our cemeteries, and in our grave-yards, and doth
not the deep engulf full many a body that was a temple of the Holy
Ghost?" I answer, yes, but they shall come again. Refrain thine eyes
from weeping, O daughter of Jerusalem; refrain thine heart from sorrow,
for they shall come again from the land of their captivity. We that are
alive and remain shall not have the preference beyond them that sleep,
"For the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised
incorruptible, and we shall be changed; so when this corruptible shall
have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on
immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written,
Death is swallowed up in victory." "His right hand, and his holy arm,
hath gotten him the victory."
And sometimes, on the morrow, the general feels the glory of the
victory is marred, for there are many prisoners; they are not dead,
their corpses lie not on the field, but they have been taken off by the
opposite parties, and they are a prey; and who knoweth what may become
of them; what dungeons may contain them; to what tortures they may be
put. But in this last victory of God, there shall be no prisoners, no
prisoners left in the hand of his enemy. I know there are some who say
that we may be children of God, and yet fall from grace and perish. My
brethren, it is a foul slander upon the faithfulness and power of the
Redeemer. I know that all he undertakes to save he will save, and he
will bring the troops off from the battle field, every brow crowned
with laurel, not one slain, not one a prisoner; the gates of hell shall
never enclose the ransomed of the Lord; amongst the groans of the lost
there shall never be heard a sigh from one that was once a saint before
God. There are no prisoners. March out your prisoners, Prince of Hell,
bring forth, if you can, one soul that Jesus bought with blood, one
soul that the Spirit quickened, one soul that the Eternal Father gave
to the hands of the Great Surety to keep for ever–bring him forth. Ah!
ye have none. "Shall the prey be taken from the mighty, or the lawful
captive delivered?" Thus saith the Lord, the God of hosts, "My ransomed
shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon
their heads;" then shall it be said, "His right hand, and his holy arm,
hath gotten him the victory."
But, beloved, after the battle is over, the conqueror wipes his brow
and says, "Ah, but the scattered hosts may rally, and they who were
driven to-day like chaff before the wind, may rise again, and long may
be the campaign, and fierce the struggle, before we have stamped out
the sparks of war. "Sleep on your arms," saith he, "you may be attacked
to-morrow, be ready for the cry of boot and saddle,' for there may be a
charge again ere many hours are spent." But not so in this case: the
victory is crushing, total, final; it is once for ever with evil, with
darkness, with hell; they shall never again be able to tempt the
righteous, or to cast them down, or to pale their cheeks with fear;
they shall never be able again to win the world to their dominion, they
are routed, routed, routed for ever. Hosts of evil, it is not your heel
that is bruised–your head is broken; the Lord hath used his people as
his battle-axe and his weapons of war, and he hath cleft ye and left ye
without might or strength for ever and for ever. So, dear friends, this
is our joy and comfort, that once the battle over, the whole campaign
is ended; there shall be no further onslaughts; we rest eternally; we
triumph everlastingly; no more fights to risk, no more conflicts in
which to tug and strive. This shall be the note that shall ring
throughout the arches of eternity–"The Lord's right hand, and his holy
arm, hath gotten him the victory for ever and for ever."
I think these are two good reasons why I should say this victory is
transcendent–there is none to dispute it, and there is nothing to mar
it.
But yet further we will venture to enlarge upon this victory by shewing
its particulars. The ultimate triumph and victory of God in all his
purposes will lie in several things. How glorious the fact that all
whom he ordained to save are saved! Calling was the first work which he
wrought in them; they were called every one of them, but like the rest
of mankind they would not come; their wills were so desperate that they
resisted long; the minister preached at them; their mother wept over
them; their father entreated them; providence came and hewed them;
afflictions broke them in pieces, and they were unsaved still; but not
in one case where God ordains to call has the calling failed. In every
case where his electing love hath set its purpose, the will is turned
round, the affections yield, the judgment gives way, the man is
subdued–he is called, he is quickened. There may be some such here
to-night, who think, "Well, I never would be saved upon such terms as
acknowledging the sovereign grace of God, even if he wills to do it."
Thy will must give way before the crushing force of the will of God. He
hath mysterious ways of finding an entrance into the most reluctant
heart, and taking up his throne there for ever.
How clearly is this victory seen in the subjugation of the lusts and
passions of the called sinner! He may have been a drunkard, he thought
he could not give it up, but the rod of iron "dashes in pieces the
potter's vessel." He may have loved the pleasures of the flesh, they
were dear to him as his right eye, but grace overcame the most darling
lust, and threw to the earth the most pampered sin.
Not less conspicuously will it appear in the perseverance of every
saint. Not a stone will have been left unturned by the adversary to
prevent the saints holding on; the caverns of hell will be emptied
against God's redeemed; Satan and his myrmidons will do their utmost to
cast them down to destruction, but they shall hold on their way, they
shall wax stronger and stronger, and when at last the gates of heaven
shall be fast closed, because there are no more to enter, it shall be
proclaimed, while devils bite their iron bands in shame, that not a
soul who was written in the Book of Life was lost, not one whom Jesus
bought with blood has been unredeemed, not one quickened by grace
suffered to die, not one who truly began the heavenly race turned aside
from it, not one concerning whom it was said, "These are mine, and in
the day when I make up my jewels they shall be mine;" not one of these
is lost, but all saved, saved eternally. Oh! that will be a splendid
victory! What can be greater? You that know the conflict through which
the child of God has to pass will bear me witness that if you get to
heaven, you will sing with all your might the conqueror's hymn. And I
think we all should do the same. I remember saying once that if ever I
got to heaven I would sing the loudest there, for I owed the most to
sovereign grace. But when I came down stairs, one said to me, "You made
a mistake, I shall sing more loudly than you, for I owe more than you
do." And I found that was the general opinion, that each brother and
each sister thought that he owed most to divine grace. Now, if we are
all to sing loudest what a shout of triumph there will be! And I
suppose the verse in our hymn is quite true to the apprehension of each
of us–
"Then loudest of the crowd I'll sing,
While heaven's resounding mansions ring
With shouts of sovereign grace."
What a transcendent triumph!
Not a few shall there be to share the triumph, but a multitude that no
man can number; for the glory shall be enhanced by the salvation of so
many. Heaven is none of your narrow places for narrow-hearted bigots.
No, brethren, our largest imagination never yet could grasp heaven, but
it will hold multitudes of multitudes. Nor will the praise be any the
less, when we consider that there were so many of such varied clans and
climes, some of all kindreds on the face of the earth, swarthy or
white. There shall be found in heaven the vilest sinner that lived,
there shall be brought thither the proudest rebel, and the stoutest
hearted, and the most obstinate of sinners; there shall be such in
heaven as would have made a wonder in hell, some, I say, who would have
been such great sinners, had they been suffered to go to hell, that
their dreadful fall would even hell itself appal, but they are in
heaven, saved by sovereign grace. And, O beloved! as there are such
persons, this will help to make the victory grand, that they were saved
by such means, such simple means, by the simple preaching of the
gospel; not by wisdom, not by science, not by eloquence, but by the
simple telling out of the story of the cross. How this will tend to
make the triumph brighter than it could have been in any other way.
And, O beloved, this victory will excel all others in the routing of
such foes, such cruel, such crafty, such mighty, such numerous foes.
Sin, sin, it is a name of horror–sin o'erthrown. Death–what glooms
are concentrated in that word!–death destroyed. Satan–what craft,
what cruelties, what malice linger there–Satan bound hand and foot,
and led captive. Such a victory over such foes. I find no words in any
tongue by which I can describe its magnitude. And oh! the results of
that victory, how bright! Souls knit to Christ by such love, tongues
tuned to such music, hearts burning with such fire, heaven filled with
such devout, such holy inhabitants, the ears of Deity regaled with such
grateful music, heaven filled with such myriads of happy spirits. The
peaceful results, setting aside the overthrow, will be enough to make
this victory grander than all the triumphs of men or angels put
together.
Say now, and gather up all your enthusiasm to say it–What a victory
shall that be, when there shall not be a single trophy in the hands of
the adversary. The victory shall be unparalleled in this, that all the
success which the enemy thought he had achieved shall only tend to make
his defeat the more galling, and add lustre to the victorious King of
kings. You see sometimes hanging up in old minsters tattered flags,
that were taken from the adversary; sometimes when the report of battle
comes in, we are told the battle was won, that so many cannon and so
many flags were left with the enemy. But, O Lord God! thou hast not
left a single trophy in the hands of thy foe. I said he had no
prisoners, but he shall not even have a flag, not one truth rent in
pieces, not one doctrine of revelation hung up to rot in the minsters
of hell; not one single attribute of God that shall be trailed in the
mire, not one single truth of Christianity to be laughed at, and
despised by fiends, not a trophy; there shall not a hair of your head
perish, not so much as that shall Satan gain, not a bone, not a
fragment of the saint, either of his body or his spirit–no trophies
left. And all this will make hell angry, to think that God gave him
vantage-ground, let him contend with poor feeble men; but God was in
man, and fought with Satan–man, a poor feeble worm, fought with Satan,
and, like David, he threw the stone of faith at the giant's head, and
destroyed him with his own weapons. God hath destroyed death by the
death of Christ, destroyed sin by the great sin-bearer, yea he has
destroyed the dragon by the seed of a woman, who bruised his head with
that very seed whose heel the serpent once did bite. Glory be unto
thee, O Lord! This is thy victory. The more we muse upon it, the higher
doth our rapture rise, and the more prepared do our hearts grow to peal
forth the words of the Psalmist, "His right hand, and his holy arm hath
gotten him the victory."
II. Secondly; observe that DEITY IS CONSPICUOUS HERE.
Man is not made mention of. There is no name of Moses, or of the
prophets, or of the apostles here; I read not the names of Chrysostom
and Augustine, nor of those modern fathers of the Church, such as
Calvin, and Zwingle–the stars are lost in the blaze of the sun. O God!
how glorious is thy right arm, and how do thy disciples, thy children,
hide their heads and say, "Not unto us, but unto thy name be all the
glory!" But mark, beloved, as they are not mentioned it is not because
the mention need to be avoided, for the more we talk of
instrumentalities, or rather think about them–(I do not say the more
we think of them, but the more we think about them)–the more persuaded
we shall be that it only adds to God's glory to use men, for men are
such poor tools to work with. You have heard of the celebrated painter
who gained renown by painting with poor brushes, when the good ones
were stolen; and Quintin Matsys, who made a cover for the well without
tools, when all the proper tools were taken away; he wrought the
ironwork with such poor implements as he could get. So was the skill of
the painter or artisan admired in that he could produce such effects
under such disadvantageous conditions. Ah! then what an artist must he
be! they exclaim concerning the one. And they look upon this piece of
ironwork, and say of the other, "What! no graving tools, no casting,
how could he do it?" So when we shall come to look at men, when we look
at them in the light which eternity shall reveal, we shall say of the
best of them, "How can the Lord have won such victories with such poor
things as these!" So that you may mention the instruments every one of
them, from righteous Abel down to the last preacher of the Word, and
yet it shall be true, that the victory shall speak the sole praise of
the General. No doubt, dear friends, this will be a part of the
splendor of the triumph to think that he did win by man. It was in man
that Satan conquered: Adam and Eve were led astray by the crafty wiles
of Satan. It is by man that death came, and by man comes the
resurrection of the dead. This will be gall and wormwood in the cup of
the lost, when they shall see the Man Christ Jesus, the seed of the
woman, sitting at the right hand of God. This is judgment's greatest
terror, "Hide us from the Lamb;" and this shall be hell's greatest
horror, "Hide us from the Lamb; let us not behold his face." But glory
be unto thee, most gracious God, for thou hast lifted man up above all
the works of thy hands, and given him dominion above all creatures, so
that principalities and powers are put beneath his feet in the person
of Christ. And all this only proves that "His own right-hand, and his
holy arm, hath gotten him the victory."
I wish I might enlarge here and speak of the conspicuous glory of God
in this respect, that all the persons of the Trinity will be glorified,
the Father, the Son, the Spirit. All the attributes of God, his
unsearchable greatness, and his unrivalled majesty, his grace, his
power, his truth, his justice, his holiness, his immutability, these
shall shine forth with resplendent lustre. His wondrous works and his
terrible acts shall declare his praise; they shall be the theme of
every tongue, and the topic of every conversation. "Men shall speak of
the glory of thy kingdom, and talk of thy power." All his decrees shall
be seen in their final accomplishment, every one of them fulfilled, the
counsel answering to the providence. Of all that the Father willed, of
all that the Son performed, of all that the Spirit revealed, not one
thing is frustrated. How shall I gather up these things? O for the
voice of a mighty angel! O for a seraph's lip of fire, to speak now of
the splendor of that last day, when not only the great but the little,
not only the abundance of God's providence, and the great deeps of his
counsel, but even the small deeds of his lovingkindness shall be made
to sing forth his praise, when not only the leviathian deeds of God
shall make the deep to praise the Lord, but even the little fish that
move therein, shall leap up to join the chorus, and everywhere from
everything, for everything, there shall be heard the tune–"His right
hand, and his holy arm, hath gotten him the victory."
III. We have in our text a third thought, which we can only hint at. In
all this–HOLINESS WILL BE GLORIFIED.
Note the adjective,–"His holy arm." When we contemplate any actions of
God, you will notice that the name which cherubs utter, "Holy, holy,
holy, Lord God of Sabaoth," is always brought out. Where Christ bears
sin, and overcomes it, I hear the cry of "Holy, holy, holy," from the
cross. Where Jesus breaks the tomb, and conquers death, I seem to hear
the note of "Holy, holy, holy," for it makes the day holy on which the
deed was done. And when he ascends to glory, and the Father says, "Well
done," we seem to hear still the note, "Holy, holy, holy." In
everything, from the manger to the cross, and from the cross onward to
the crown, holiness becometh God's house, and all God's acts for ever.
Is it not, dear friends, after all the hinge of the struggle? Is not
this the point, just as you know in great battles, there is some one
mountain or hill, which is the object of struggle, not for the value of
that particular hill, but because on that the battle will depend, so
holiness is just the point, the rallying point between God and Satan.
Here are the two war-cries. The hosts of evil cry, "Sin, sin, sin;" but
the cry of the armies of the Lord of hosts is this, "Holiness,
holiness, holiness." Every time we strike a blow it is "Holiness;" and
every time they attack us it is "Sin." Sin is the real object of their
aim. When Satan attacks, it is to stab at holiness, and when we resist,
it is to guard holiness, or to drive back his sin. Mark you, this, I
say, is the point of the battle, and by that ye shall be able to judge
on which side you are. What is your war-cry? What is your war-cry? When
Cromwell fought with the soldiers of the covenant at Dunbar, you will
remember they were distinguished by their cries, on the one side, "The
Covenant, the Covenant;" and on the other side, "The Lord of hosts, the
Lord of hosts." And so to-night there is the cry on either side, "Sin
and the pleasures thereof." Is that your war-cry, friend? You say
"No,"–how is it then you were at the theater the other night? You say
"No,"–how is it then you frequent the tavern? You say "No,"–how is it
then you have got so many misgotten gains about you now? You say,
"No,"–how is it you make appointments for deeds of sin, and perhaps
to-night, or to-morrow night, intend to fulfill them? I tell you, sirs,
there are many of you whose war-cry to-night is "Sin, and the pleasures
thereof." On the other hand, I trust there are not a few in this vast
throng, who can say, "Oh! sir, feebly though I speak it, yet my war"
cry is Holiness, and the cross'"–that goeth with it, "Holiness, and
the cross." Ah! beloved you are just now on the side that is laughed
at, the world points at you and says, "There are your saints." Yes,
here they are, sir, what dare you say against them? Abide your time,
man, and have your jeering out; ye shall change that laugh for
everlasting howlings by-and-bye. "There are your Methodists; there are
your hypocritical professors." What, sir, dare you say it? The servants
of the living God will know how to answer you in that day, when their
king shall be revealed in the clouds of heaven, and his glory shall be
manifest, and they shall share his triumph, and all flesh shall see it,
for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. The world knoweth us not,
because it knew him not. "It doth not yet appear what we shall be, but
when he shall appear, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he
is." Come, we will pass that question again to-night, "What is your
war-cry?" There has been a good deal of wickedness these last few days
in London. I love to see holy mirth; I delight to see men well feasted.
I like Christmas; I wish it came six times a-year. I like the
generosity of those who give to the poor. Let it be extended. I would
not stop a smile. God forbid me! But cannot men be happy without
drunkenness? cannot they be mirthful without blasphemy? Is there no
possibility of being happy without lasciviousness? Are there no other
ways of finding true pleasure besides selling your soul to the devil? O
sirs! I say there have been thousands in this huge city who have been
going about the streets, and whose cry has been, "Sin, and the
pleasures thereof! Where is the music-hall? Where is the Casino? Where
is the Coal Hole? Where is the tavern? Where is the ball-room? Sin, and
the pleasures thereof." O Satan! thou hast many soldiers, and right
brave soldiers they are, and never are they afraid of thy cause, nor
ashamed of thy name nor of thy unholy work. Ay, thou art well served, O
prince of hell! and rich will be thy wages when thy drudges earn the
fire for which they have labored. But I hope and trust there are some
to-night who will change their watch-note. Ye have not nailed your
colors to the mast, have you? Even if you have, by God's grace I would
pull the nails out. Are ye determined to die? Will you serve the black
prince for ever, and perish with him? Jesus Emmanuel, the captain of
our salvation, bids me cry to you, "Enlist beneath my banner." Believe
in him, trust in him, and live. Oh! trust the merit of the cross, the
virtue of the blood, the tears, and the dying groans. This it is to be
a Christian, and ever afterwards this shall be your
war-note–"Holiness, and the cross thereof!" O take this, all! Fear
not. The cross with holiness will bring the mortifying of the flesh,
the shame of the world, and the reproach of men. Take both, for now the
battle is raging. But, O my brethren, another crush, and another, and
another, and another, and we shall gain the top of the hill, and the
shout of "Holiness and the cross!" shall be answered by the echoes all
round the world, for everywhere holiness shall be victorious, and men
shall know the Lord. Ay, and the echoes of heaven shall answer, too,
and the spirits of the sanctified shall cry, "Holiness, and the crown
thereof!" Then we will change one word of our watch-note; and as our
enemies have broken before us and are utterly destroyed; as they melt
away like the fat of rams; as unto smoke they consume away, we will
sing for ever, "Holiness, and the crown thereof! holiness, and the
crown thereof!" But that shall be only one note: this shall be the
song–"His own right hand, and his holy arm, hath gotten him the
victory."
I would that some soul would believe in Jesus to-night, that it might
share in the victory. I would that young man's heart would be given to
Christ to-night, or yours yonder. He deserves it of you: if it were
only his mercy in having spared you, he deserves it. And thou
greyheaded sinner there, does he not deserve thy heart for sparing thee
so long? Yield, I pray thee; his love meets thee. Yield; his terrors
threaten thee. Yield; lay down thy weapons, and be for ever forgiven.
May God help thee to do it. The Lord prove his sovereignty and his
power to-night in the conversion of many of his chosen; and unto him
shall be the glory for ever and ever. Amen.