There Go The Ships

DELIVERED BY

C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.

"There go the ships." Psalm 104:26.

I was walking, the other day, by the side of the sea, looking out upon
the English Channel. It so happened that there was a bad wind for the
vessels going down the Channel and they were lying in great numbers
between the shore and the Goodwins. I should think I counted more than
a hundred, all waiting for a change of wind. All of a sudden the wind
shifted to a more favorable quarter and it was interesting to see with
what rapidity all sails were spread and the vessels began to disappear
like birds on the wing. It was a sight such as one might not often see,
but worth traveling a hundred miles to gaze upon, to see them all sail
like a gallant squadron and disappear southward on their voyages.
"There go the ships," was the exclamation that naturally rose to one's
lips.

The Psalmist thought it worth his while to pen the fact which he, too,
had noticed, though it is very questionable whether David had ever seen
anything like the number of vessels which pass our coasts. Certainly he
had seen none to be compared with them for tonnage. The first lesson
which may be learned from the ships and the sea is this–every part of
the earth is made with some design. The land, of course, yields "grass
for the cattle and herb for the service of man." But what about the
broad acres of the sea? We cannot sow them, nor turn them into pasture.
The reaper fills not his arms from the briny furrows! They give neither
seed for the sower nor bread for the eater, neither do herds of cattle
cover them as they do the thousand hills of earth.

Remorselessly swallowing up all that is cast upon it, the thankless
ocean makes no return of fruit or flower. Is not the larger part of the
world given up to waste? "No," says David, and so say we–"There go the
ships." The sea benefits man by occasioning navigation and yielding,
besides, an enormous harvest of fishes of many kinds. Besides which, as
the blood is necessary for the body, so it is necessary for this world
that there should be upon its surface a vast mass of water in perpetual
motion. That measureless gathering together of the waters is an amazing
instance of Divine Wisdom in its existence, its perpetual ebb and flow
and even in its form and quantity. In the ocean there is not a drop of
water too much nor a drop too little! There is not a single mile of sea
more than there ought to be, nor less than there should be.

An exact balance and proportion is maintained and we little know how
the blooming of the tiny flower or the flourishing of the majestic
cedar would be affected were the balance disturbed. Between the tiny
drop of dew upon each blade of grass and the boundless main there is a
relation and proportion such as only an infinite mind could have
arranged. Remember, also, that the ocean's freshness tends to promote
life and health among the sons of men. It is good that there is sea, or
the land might devour its inhabitants by sickness. God has made nothing
in vain. Ignorance gazes on the stormy deep and judges it to be a vast
disorder, the mother of confusion and the nurse of storms. But better
knowledge teaches us what Revelation had before proclaimed, namely,
that in wisdom has the Lord made all things.

But does not the ocean grievously separate lovers and friends? Many a
wife thinks of her husband on the far-off Pacific. Many a mother casts
an anxious thought towards her sailor boy. And both are half inclined
to think it is a mistake to place so vast a portion of the globe as a
cruel dividing gulf between loving hearts. Others evidently thought so
in years gone by, for among the figurative excellencies of the new
earth we are told that there shall be no more sea. But what a mistake
it is to think that the sea is a divider–it is the great uniter of the
races of men–for, "there go the ships." It is the highway of nations
by which they reach each other far more readily than they could have
done had no sea existed and arid deserts or towering mountains had
intervened.

This is one instance in which we do not understand God's designs, for
we judge them upon the surface. As the sea apparently divides, but
really unites nations, so often in Providence things look one way, but
go another. We say, "All these things are against me," when all things
are working together for our good! We judge that to be a curse which,
in the deep intent of God, is a rich blessing! And we write that down
as among the ills of life which, in God's esteem, is

reckoned to be among its choicest mercies. Judge not according to the
sight of the eyes, or the changeful feelings of the heart! But
unstaggeringly believe in the Infallible Goodness of our great Father
in Heaven!

As the child mistakes God's design in the sea, so will you also mistake
His designs in Providence if you set up yourself as the measurer of the
infinite–

"Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust Him for His Grace.
Behind a frowning Providence He hides a smiling face."

Our subject, however, shall not be the uses of the sea, but this one
simple matter–"There go the ships."

I. And, first, WE SEE THAT THE SHIPS GO. "There go the ships." The
ships are made to go. The ship is not made to lie forever upon the
stocks, or to be shut up in the docks. It is generally looked upon as
an old hulk of little service when it has to lie up in ordinary and rot
in the river. But a ship is made to go, and, as you see that it goes,
remember that you also were made to go. Activity in Christian work is
the result and design of Grace in the soul. How I wish we could launch
some of you!

You are, we trust, converted, but you as yet serve but slender uses.
Very quiet, sluggish and motionless, you lie on the stocks by the month
together, and we have nearly as much trouble to launch you as Brunel
had with the "Great Eastern." I have tried hard to knock away your
blocks, remove your dogshores, and grease your ways, but you need
hydraulic rams to stir you! When will you feel that you must go and
learn to "walk the water as a thing of life." O, for a grand launch!
Hundreds are lying high and dry and to them I would give the motto,
"launch out into the deep." The ships go, when will you go, too?

The ships, in going, at last disappear from view. The vessel flies
before the wind and very speedily it is gone–and such is our destiny
before long. Our life is gone as the swift ships. We think ourselves
stationary, but we are always moving on. As we sit in these pews so
quietly, the angel of time is bearing us between his wings at a speed
more rapid than we can guess. Every single tick of the clock is but a
vibration of his mighty wings and he bears us on, and on, and on, and
never stays to rest either by day or night. Swift as the arrow from the
bow we are always speeding towards the target. How short time is! How
very short our life is! Let each one say, "How short my life is!"

No man knows how near he is to his grave. Perhaps if he could see it,
it is just before him. I almost wish he could see it, for a yawning
grave might make some men start to reason and to thought. That yawning
grave is there, though they perceive it not–

"A point of time, a moments space, May land me in yon heavenly place,
Or shut me up in Hell."

"There go the ships," and there go you, also! You are never in one
place. You are always flying, swift as the eagle, or, to come back to
the text, as the swift ship, yet, "all men think all men mortal but
themselves." The oldest man here probably thinks he will outlive some
of the younger ones. The man who is soonest to die may be the very man,
of us all, who has the least thought of death! And he that is nearest
to his departure is, perhaps, the man who least thinks of it. Just as
in the ship all were awake and every man praying to his God except
Jonah, for whom the storm was raging, so does it often happen that in a
congregation every man may be aroused and made to think of his latter
end except the one man, the marked man, who will never see tomorrow's
sun. As you see the ships, think of your mortality!

The ships, as they go, are going on business. Some few ships go here
and there upon pleasure, but for the most part the ships have something
serious to do. They have a charter and they are bound for a certain
port. And this teaches us how we should go on the voyage of life with a
fixed, earnest, weighty purpose. May I ask each one of you, have you
something to do, and is it worth doing? You are sailing, but are you
sailing like a mere pleasure yacht, whose port is everywhere, which
scuds and flies before every fitful wind and is a mere butterfly with
no serious work before it? You may be as heavily laden and dingy as a
collier, there may be nothing of beauty or swiftness about you, but
after all, the main thing is the practical result of your voyage.

Dear Friend, what are you doing? What have you been doing? And what do
you contemplate doing? I should like every young man here just to look
at himself. Here you are, young man. You certainly were not sent into
this world merely to wear a coat and to stand so many feet in your
stockings! You must have been sent here with some intention. A

noble creature like man–and man is a noble creature as compared with
the animal creation–is surely made for something. What were you made
for? Not merely to enjoy yourself. That cannot be! You certainly are
not "a butterfly born in a bower," neither were you made to be
creation's blot and blank.

Neither can you have been created to do mischief. It were an evil thing
for you to be a mere serpent in the world, to creep in the grass and
wound the traveler. No, you must be made for something. What is that
something? Are you answering your end? We were made for God's glory.
Nothing short of this is worthy of immortal beings! Have we sought that
glory? Are we seeking it now? If not, I commend to your consideration
this thought, that as the ships go on their business, so ought men to
live with a fixed and worthy purpose. I would say this, not only to
young men, but with greater earnestness, still, to men who may have
wasted 40 years.

O, how could I dare to stand before this congregation tonight and have
to say, "Friends, I have had no objective. I have lived in this world
for myself, alone. I have had no grand purpose before me"? I should be
utterly ashamed if that were the fact. And if any man is obliged to
feel that his purpose was such that he dares not acknowledge it, or
that he has only existed to make so much money, or gain a position in
life, or to enjoy himself, but he has never purposed to serve his God,
I would say to him, Wake up, wake up, I pray you, to a noble purpose,
worthy of a man! May God, the ever-blessed Spirit, set this before you
in the light of eternity and in the light of Jesus' dying love! And may
you be awakened to solemn, earnest purpose and pursuit.

"There go the ships," but not idly. They go upon business. These ships,
however, whatever their errand is, sail upon a changeful sea. Today the
sea is smooth like glass. The ship, however, makes very small headway.
Tomorrow there is a breeze which fills out the sail and the ship goes
merrily before it. Perhaps, before night comes on, the breeze increases
to a gale and then rushes from a gale into a hurricane. Let the mariner
see to, it when the storm-winds are out, for the ship needs to be
staunch to meet the tempest. Mark how in the tempestuous hour the sea
mingles with the clouds and the clouds with the sea. See how the ship
mounts up to Heaven on the crest of the wave and then dives into the
abyss in the furrow between the enormous billows–until the mariners
reel to and fro and stagger like drunken men.

Soon they have weathered the storm and, perhaps, tomorrow it will be
calm again. "There go the ships" on an element which is a proverb for
fickleness, for we say, "false as the smooth, deceitful sea." "They
go," you say, "upon the sea, but I dwell upon the solid earth." Ah,
good Sir, there is not much to choose. There is nothing stable beneath
yon waxing and waning moon. We say "terra firma," but where, where is
terra firma? What man has discovered the immovable rock? Certainly not
he who looks to this world for it! He has it not who thinks he has, for
many plunge from riches into poverty, from honor to disgrace, from
power to servitude.

Who says, "My mountain stands firm, I shall never be moved"? He speaks
as the foolish speak! It is a voyage, Sir, and even with Christ on
board it is a voyage in which storms will occur! It is a voyage in
which you may have to say, "Master, do You not care that we perish?"
Expect changes, then. Do not hold anything on earth too firmly. Trust
in God and be on the watch, for who knows what may be on the morrow?
"There go the ships."

II. But now, having spoken upon that, our second point is, HOW GO THE
SHIPS? What makes them go? For there are lessons here for Christians.
We leave our steamships out of the question, as they were not known in
David's day and, therefore, not intended. But how go the ships? Well,
they must go according to the wind. They cannot make headway without
favoring gales. And if our port is Heaven, there is no getting there
except by the blessed Spirit's blowing upon us. He blows where He
wishes and we need that He should breathe upon us.

We never steer out of the port of destruction upon our venturesome
voyage till the heavenly Wind drives us out to sea. And when we are out
upon the ocean of spiritual life we make no progress unless we have His
favoring breath. We are dependent upon the Spirit of God even more than
the mariners upon the breeze. Let us all know this and, therefore,
cry–

Celestial Breeze, no longer stay

But fill my sails and speed my way." It is not possible to insist too
much on the humbling Truth of God, "Without Me you can do nothing." It
helps to check self-confidence and it exalts the Holy Spirit. Unless we
honor Him, He will not honor us. Therefore, let us cheerfully
acknowledge our absolute dependence upon Him.

But still, the mariner does not go by the wind without exertion on his
own part, for the sails must be spread and managed so that the wind may
be utilized. One man will go many knots, while another with the same
breeze goes but few, for there is a good deal of tacking about needed,
sometimes, to use the little wind, or the cross wind which may prevail.
Sometimes all the sails must be spread, but at other times only a part.
Management is required. If some were spread, they might take the wind
out of others, and so the ship might lose instead of gaining. There is
a deal of work on board a ship. I believe that some people have a
notion that the ship goes of itself and that the sailors have nothing
to do but sit down and enjoy themselves. But if you have ever been to
sea as an able-bodied seaman, you have discovered that for an easy life
you must not be one of a ship's crew!

And so, mark you, we are dependent upon the Spirit of God, but He puts
us into motion and action. And if Christian men sit down and say, "Oh,
the Spirit of God will do the work," you will find the Spirit of God
will do nothing of the sort! The only operation which He will be likely
to perform will be to convince you that you are a sluggard and that you
will come to poverty. The Spirit of God makes men earnest, fervent,
living and intense. He "works in us to will and to do of His own good
pleasure." We have sails to manage to catch the favoring breeze and we
shall need all the strength we can obtain if we are to make good
headway in the voyage of life.

Some professors say, "God will save His own people." I am afraid He
will never save them! They expect there will come good times when a
great number of the elect will be gathered in, but they fold their arms
and do nothing at all to promote the spread of the Gospel. When they
see others a little busy, they say, "Ah, mere excitement!" and so on.
They tell us God will have His own, to which I generally reply that I
believe He will, but I do not believe He will have them, because if
they were His own they would not talk in that fashion, for those who
are God's own people have a zeal for God and a love for souls.

Do you not remember what God said to David? "When you hear the sound of
a going in the tops of the mulberry trees then shall you bestir
yourself." Not, "Then shall you sit still and say 'God will do it.'"
When David heard the angels coming over the tops of the trees to fight
the Philistines–when he heard their soft tread among the leaves, like
the rustling of the wind–then he was to bestir himself! And so, when
God's Spirit comes to work in the Church, the Christian must bestir
himself and not sit still. "There go the ships." They go with the wind,
but they are the scene of great industry, or else the wind would
whistle through the yards and the ship would make no voyages. Thus,
Brothers and Sisters, we see dependence and energy united–faith
sweetly showing itself in good works.

"There go the ships." How do they go? Well, they have to be guided and
steered by the helm. The helm is a little thing, but yet it rules the
vessel. As the helm is turned, so is the vessel guided. Look you well
to it, Christian, that your motives and purposes are always right. Your
love is the helm of the vessel! Where your affection is, your thoughts
and actions tend to be. If you love the world, you will drift with the
world! But if the love of the Father is in you, then your vessel will
go towards God and towards Divine things! O, see to it that Christ has
His hands on the tiller and that He guides you towards the haven of
perfect peace!

The ship being guided by the helm, he who manages the helm seeks
direction from charts and lights. "There go the ships," but they do not
go of themselves, without management and wisdom. Thought is exercised
and knowledge and experience. There is an eye on deck which at night
looks out for yonder revolving light, or the colored ray of the light
of the ship just ahead there. And the thoughtful brain says, "I must
steer south-west of such a light," or, "to the north of such a light,
or I shall be upon the sands." Besides mere lookouts upon the sea, that
anxious eye also busies itself with the chart, scans the stars and
takes observations of the moon. The captain's mind is exercised to
learn exactly where the vessel is and where she is going, lest the good
ship unawares should come to mischief.

And so, dear Brethren, if we are to get to Heaven, we must study well
the Scriptures. We must look well to every warning and guiding light of
the Spirit's kindling and ask for direction from above, for as the
ships go not at haphazard, so neither will any Christian his way to
Heaven unless he watches and prays and looks up daily, saying, "Guide
me in a plain path, O God." The voyage of a ship on the main ocean
seems, to me, to be an admirable picture of the life of faith. The
sailor does not see a road before him, or any land mark or sea mark,
yet is sure of his course. He relies upon fixed lights in Heaven, for
far out he can see no beacon or light on the sea.

His calculations, based on the laws of the heavenly bodies, are sure
guides on a wild wilderness where no keel ever leaves a furrow to mark
the way. The Late Captain Basil Hall, one of the most scientific
officers in the navy, tells the fol-

lowing interesting incident. He once sailed from San Blas, on the west
coast of Mexico. After a voyage of 8,000 miles, occupying 89 days, he
arrived off Rio de Janeiro, having in this interval passed through the
Pacific Ocean, rounded Cape Horn and crossed the South Atlantic without
making land or seeing a single sail except an American whaler. When,
within a week's sail of Rio, he set seriously about, determining by
lunar observations, the position of his ship, and then steered his
course by those common principles of navigation which may be safely
employed for short distances between one known station and another.

Having arrived within what he considered, from his computations, 15 or
20 miles of the coast, he hove to, at four o'clock in the morning, to
await the break of day, and then bore up, proceeding cautiously, on
account of a thick fog. As this cleared away, the crew had the
satisfaction of seeing the great Sugar Loaf Rock which stands on one
side of the harbor's mouth, so nearly right ahead, that they had not to
alter their course above a point in order to hit the entrance of the
port. This was the first land they had seen for nearly three months,
after crossing so many seas, and being set backwards and forwards by
innumerable currents and foul winds. The effect upon all on board was
electric and, giving way to their admiration, the sailors greeted the
commander with a hearty cheer. And what a cheer will we give when,
after many a year's sailing by faith, we, at last, see the pearly gates
right straight ahead and enter into the fair havens without needing to
shift a point! Glory be to the Captain of our salvation! It will be all
well with us when the fog of this life's care shall lift, and we shall
see the Light of Heaven!

Once more, how go the ships? They not only go according to the wind,
guided by the helm and the chart, but some ships will go better than
others, according to their build. With the same amount of wind one
vessel makes more way than another. Now it is a blessed thing when the
Grace of God gives a Christian a good build. There are some Church
members who are so oddly shaped that somehow they never seem to cut the
water! Even the Holy Spirit does not make much of them. They will get
into harbor at last, but they will need a world of tugging. The snail
did get into the ark–I often wonder how he did it–he must have got up
very early that morning! However, the snail got in as well as the
greyhound, and so there are many Christian people who will get to
Heaven, but Heaven, alone, knows how, for they are such an odd sort of
people that they seem to make no progress in the Divine Life. I would
sooner live in Heaven with them forever than be with them 15 minutes
here below!

God seems to shape some Christian minds in a more perfect model than
others, so that, having simplicity of character, warmth of heart,
zealous temperaments and generous spirits, when the wind of the Spirit
comes they cut through the foam. Now, I suspect that some good people
have, by degrees, become like the "Great Eastern" a short time since,
namely, foul under water. They cannot go because they are covered with
barnacles. A ship is greatly impeded in its voyage if it carries a
quantity of barnacles on her bottom. I know lots of Christian people–I
could point them out tonight, but I will not–who are covered with
barnacles. They cannot go because of some secret inconsistency, or love
of the things of this world rather than the love of God.

They need laying up and cleaning a bit, so as to get some of the
barnacles off. It is a rough process, but it is one to which some of
God's vessels have to be exposed. What headway they would make towards
Heaven if that which hinders were removed! Sometimes, when a man is on
a bed of sickness he is losing his barnacles and, sometimes, when a man
has been rich and wealthy and has lost all he had, it takes off the
barnacles. When we have lost friends we love, and whom we have made
idols of, we have been sorry to lose them–but it has cleaned off our
barnacles. And when we have got out to sea there has been an ease about
the going and we have scarcely known how it was, but God knew that He
had made us more fit for His service by the trials of life to which He
exposed us.

That is how the ships go. There are many mysteries about them and there
are many in us. God makes us go by the gales of His Spirit. O, that we
may be trim for going, buoyant and swift to be moved, and so may we
make a grand voyage to Heaven with Christ Jesus at the helm!

III. Thirdly and briefly. When I saw these ships go I happened to be
near a station of Lloyd's. I noticed that they ran up flags as the
vessels went by, to which the vessels replied. I suppose they were
asking questions–to know their names and what their cargo was, where
they were going, and so on. Now I am going to act as Lloyd's tonight,
and put up the flags and ask you something about yourselves. The third
point, then, will be–the ships go, LET US SIGNAL THEM.

And, first, who is your owner? "There go the ships," but who is your
owner? You do not reply, but I think I can make a guess. There are some
hypocrites about who make fine pretensions, but they are not
holy-living people! They even dare

to come to the Lord's Table and yet they drink of the cup of devils!
They will sing pious hymns with us and then sing lascivious ditties
with their friends. I would say to such a man–you are a rotten vessel,
you do not belong to King Jesus! Every timber is faithful in His
vessels. They are not all what we should like them to be and, as I have
said already, they, too, are often covered with barnacles, but still
they are all sincere. The Lord builds His vessels with sound timber and
unless we are sincere and right, Christ is not our Owner, but Satan is.

The painted hypocrite is known through the disguise he wears. There is
another vessel over there, a fine vessel, too. Look, she is newly
painted and looks spick and span. You can see nothing amiss with her.
What white sails, and do you notice the many flags? Take the glass and
read the vessel's name, and you will see in bold letters,
"Self-righteousness." Ah, I know that the owner is not the Lord Jesus
Christ, for all the ships that belong to Him carry the red Cross flag
and cannot endure the flaunting flag of self-righteousness! All God's
people admit that they must be saved by Sovereign Grace! Anything like
righteousness of their own they pump overboard as so much leakage and
bilge-water.

I see another vessel over yonder, with her sails all spread and every
bit of her colors flying. There, there, what a blaze she makes! How
proud she seems as she scuds over the water. That vessel is "The
Pride," from the port of Self-Conceit, Captain Ignorance. I do not know
where she is more often to be seen, but sometimes she crosses this bit
of water. I should not wonder if she is in sight here, now, and you may
be sure she does not belong to our Lord Jesus. Whether it is pride of
money, or person, or rank, or talent, it comes of evil, and Jesus
Christ does not own it! You must get rid of all pride if you belong to
Him. God grant us to be humble in heart. I could mention some more
vessels that I see here tonight, but I will not.

I will rather beg each man and woman to ask himself, "Can I put my hand
on my heart and say, 'I am not my own, I am bought with a price?' Did
Jesus buy me with His precious blood and do I acknowledge that there is
not a timber, spar, rope, or bolt in me but what belongs to Him?"
Blessed be His name, some of us can say there is not a hair of our head
or a drop of our blood but what belongs to Him! Yours are we, You Son
of David, and all that we have! I hope there are vessels here which are
owned by the Lord Jesus Christ. Let them never be ashamed to confess
their Owner. A vessel on proper business is never ashamed to answer
signals. If there should be a smuggler or pirate in the offing, the
crews would not be likely to answer signals. But those who are on
honest business are ready to reply. And so, Brothers and Sisters, be
ready to give a reason for the hope that is in you with meekness and
fear. Never show in your actions that you are ashamed of Jesus, but
always let the broad flag be flying in whatever waters you are–"Christ
is mine, and I am His. For Him I live. His reproach would I bear and
His honor would I maintain."

Our next inquiry is, what is your cargo? "There go the ships," but what
do they carry? You cannot tell from looking at them far out at sea,
except that you can be pretty sure that some of them do not carry much.
Look at that showy brig! You can tell by the look of her that she has
not much on board–from the fact of her floating so high it is clear
that her cargo is light. Big men, very important individuals, very
high-floating people are common, but there is nothing in them! If they
had more on board they would not sink deeper in the water. As we said
this morning, the more Divine Grace a man has the lower he lies before
God.

Well, Brothers and Sisters, what cargo have you got? I am afraid some
of you who lie down in the water are not kept down by any very precious
cargo, but I fear you are in ballast. I have gone aboard some
Christians. I thought there was a good deal in them, but I have not
been able to find it. They have a great deal of trouble and they always
tell you about it. There is a good old soul I call in to see sometimes.
I begin to converse with her and her conversation is always about
rheumatism–nothing else! You cannot get beyond rheumatism. That good
Sister is in ballast. There is another friend of mine, a farmer. If you
talk with him, it is always about the badness of the times. That
Brother is in ballast, too.

There are many tradesmen who, though they are Christians, cannot be
made to talk of anything but the present dullness of business. I wish
they could get that ballast out and fill up with something better, for
it is not worth carrying! You must have it, sometimes, I suppose, but
it is infinitely better to carry a load of praises, prayers, good
wishes, holy doctrines, charitable actions and generous encouragements!
Some ships, I think, carry a cargo ofpowder. You cannot go very near
them without feeling you are in danger–they are so very apt to
misjudge and take offense. I wish that such persons were made to carry
a red flag that we might give them a wide berth.

It is well to be loaded with good things. Young people, study the Word
of God. Ask to be taught by experience and, wherever you go, seek to
carry the precious commodities which God has made dear to your own
soul, that others may be

enriched thereby. It is an interesting sight to see those immense ships
loaded with passengers for the colonies. I cannot help praying as I
look at them, "God grant that no harm may come to them, but may they
safely reach their desired haven." When I look at some of our Brethren
whom God is blessing, so that they have a cargo of blessed souls on
board, consisting of hundreds who have been brought to Jesus by them, I
would to God we had many more!

Thank God, I have sometimes had my decks crowded with passengers who
have, from my ministry, received the Gospel. The Lord has brought them
on board, and O, I trust before I die He will give me thousands more
who will have to thank God that they heard the Gospel from these lips!
May we be emigrant vessels bearing souls away into the Glory Land where
the days of their mourning shall be ended! Of course we can only be
humble instruments, but still, what honor God puts upon His instruments
when He makes use of them for this object. "There go the ships." Not
ships of war are we, with guns to carry death, but missionary vessels
carrying tidings of peace and glad news to the utmost ends of the
earth!

Our last signal asks the question–where go the ships? "Where go the
ships? Oh, yes, they went merrily down the Channel the other day, but
where are they now? In a year's time, who will report all the good
vessels which just now passed by our coast? I am looking out upon all
of you, anxious to know what port you are making for. Some of you are
bound for the Port of Peace. Swiftly may the winds convey you over the
waters and safely may you voyage under the convoy of the Lord Jesus! I
will try and keep pace with you! I hope that you will sail in company
with others of my Master's vessels, but if you have to sail alone over
a sea in which you cannot see another sail, may God, the Blessed One,
protect and guard you! Bound for the Port of Peace, with Christ on
board, insured for Glory, bound for Life Eternal, let us bless the name
of the Lord!

But alas, alas, many ships which bid fair for the desired haven are
lost on the rocks! Some soul-destroying sin causes their swift
destruction. Others, equally fair to look upon, are lost on the sands.
They seemed bound for Heaven, but they were not the Lord's. The sands
are very dangerous, but they are only a mass of little atoms, soft and
yielding. Yet as many ships are lost on the sands as on the rocks. Even
so, there are ways and habits of evil which are deceptive–there is
apparently nothing very bad about them. Nothing heartbreaking, like
rocks, but oh, the multitudes of souls that have been sucked in by
sandy temptations! Dear Brothers and Sisters, I hope you are not going
that way. God grant you Grace to avoid little sins and I am sure you
will keep off the rocks of great sin. In any case, may we turn out to
be the Lord's own, and so be kept to the end. Woe unto us if we should
prove to be mere adventurers and perish in our presumption!

Among the ships that go to sea, there are some that founder. One does
not know how, but they are never heard of again. They were sighted on
such-and-such a day, but we shall never more hear any tidings of them.
How is that? I have known some of the members of this Church go down in
mid-ocean. I never thought it could have happened, but they have gone!
I can only imagine how it was. They seemed seaworthy vessels, but they
were doubtless rotten through and through. Oh Brothers and Sisters, may
God keep you from foundering, as some do by some mysterious sin which
seems as if it clasped the soul and dragged it down to the deeps of
Hell!

I have known some vessels, too, that have become derelict–waifs and
strays upon the sea–men that were the hope of Churches, but who have
abandoned themselves to reckless living. They used to worship with the
people of God and seemed to be very earnest and zealous. And now,
perhaps, at this very moment, they are passing through the gin palace
door, or spending this evening in vices which we dare not mention. O,
it is dreadful! Many start on their voyage and look as if they were
Christ's own vessels–and yet for some strange, unreasonable reason
they give all up. And they will be met with, in years to come, drifting
about, rudderless, captainless, crewless, dangerous to others and
miserable to themselves. God save you from this!

And you, my Friend, though you have been a member of this Church for 20
years, God save you from despairing and sinning furiously, for there,
sometimes, come over men strange moments of insanity in which they
reverse the whole of their lives, lay violent hands upon an excellent
character and become castaways. The Grace of God will save the truly
regenerate from this, but, alas, how many high professors never were
regenerate at all?! Where will some of the vessels I see before me go?
It is a fine fleet I am looking upon. Brothers and Sisters, I hope all
of us will be found in that great harbor in Heaven which can
accommodate all His Majesty's fleet. O, it will be a great day when we
all arrive! Will you give me a hail when you get into port? Will you
know me?

I shall be on the lookout for some of you. I cannot help believing that
we shall know each other. We have been in rough waters together these
20 years, and we have had some glorious weather, too, have we not? We
have seen the works of the Lord and His wonders in the deep! I hope we
shall keep together till we reach that blessed haven where our
fellowship will be eternal! How we will glorify Him who gets us there,
even Jesus, the Lord High Admiral of the seas! Christ shall never hear
the last of it if I get to Heaven! I will sing, yes, I will sing
praises unto His name! I remember preaching once, when half of my
congregation quarreled with me when I had done preaching, for I had
said–

"Then loudest of the crowd I'll sing While Heaven's resounding mansions
ring With shouts of sovereign Grace.'" As I came downstairs I met one
who said, "You will not sing loudest, for I owe more to Grace than you
do!" And I found that all the Lord's people said the same!

Well, we will have it out when we get to Heaven–we will try this
contention among the birds of Paradise and see which of us can sing the
most loudly to the praise of Redeeming Grace! Till then let us trust
the Lord Jesus and obey His orders, for He is our Captain and it is our
duty to do His bidding. But it would be a dreadful supposition–and
yet, perhaps, it may be worse than a supposition–that some of you will
have to cast anchor forever in the Dead Sea, whose waves are fire,
where every vessel is a prison, where every passenger feels a Hell!
What must it be like to be in Hell an hour? I wish some of you could
think it over. What must it be like to be shut up in despair for one
single day!

If you have a toothache a few minutes, how wretched you are and how
anxious to get rid of it! But what must it be to be in Hell even if
were for a short time–even it were but for a short time? O, if it came
to an end, still would I say, by all the humanities that are in my
soul, I charge you, Brothers and Sisters, do not risk the wrath of God!
Go not down to the Pit! Pull down that black flag, Man, pull it down
and cast off your old owner. Ask Christ to be your Owner! Run up the
red flag of the Cross and give yourself to Jesus, for if you do not,
your voyage must lead to the gulf of Black Despair where you will
suffer forever the result of your sin!

God have mercy upon us and may we never have to pass through the
Straits of Judgment into the Gulf of Damnation! May it never be said,
"There goes one of the ships that the Tabernacle pilot signaled. It is
gone to destruction." May it rather be said of all of us, all in full
sail together, as we go towards Heaven, "There go the ships!" Not one
of them is drifting to the Gulf of Destruction! Believe in the Lord
Jesus Christ and all is well with you. Reject Him, and all is ill with
you. May He, by His Word, enable you to make a right choice tonight,
for His Love's sake. Amen.

PORTION OF SCRIPTURE READ BEFORE SERMON–Psalm 104. HYMNS FROM "OUR OWN
HYMN BOOK"–551, 686, 656.