DAVID’S DYING SONG.

“Although my house be not so with God; yet he hath made with me

an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things and sure: for this is all

my salvation, and all my desire, although he make it not to grow.”-

2 Samuel 23:5.

chapter. Many have been the precious sentences which have fallen from his

inspired lips seraphic has been the music which has dropped from his

fingers when they flew along the strings of his harp; but now that sweet

voice is to be hushed in death, and now the son of Jesse is to sleep with his

fathers. Surely it were well to press around his bed, to hear the dying

monarch’s last testimony; yea, we can conceive that angels themselves

would for an instant check their rapid flight, that they might visit the

chamber of the dying mighty one, and listen to his last death song. It is

always blessed to hear the words of departing saints. How many choice

thoughts have we gained in the bedchamber of the righteous, beloved? I

remember one sweet idea which I once won from a death-bed. A dying

man desired to have one of the Psalms read to him, and the 17th being

chosen, he stopped at the 6th verse, “Incline thine ear unto me and hear my

speech,” and faintly whispering, said, “Ah, Lord, I cannot speak, my voice

fails me, incline thine ear, put it against my mouth, that thou mayest hear

me.” None but a weak and dying man, whose life was ebbing fast could

have conceived such a thought. It is well to hear saints’ words when they

are near heaven-when they stand upon the banks of Jordan. But here is a

special case, for these be the last words of David They are something more

than human utterances; for we are told that the Spirit of the Lord spake by

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him, and his word was in his tongue. These were his closing accents. Ah!

methinks, lisping these words he rose from earth to join the chorus of the

skies. He commenced the sentence upon earth and he finished it in heaven.

He began, “Although my house be not so with God” and as he winged his

flight to heaven, he still sang, “yet hast thou made with me an everlasting

covenant, ordered in all things, and sure,” and now before the throne he

constantly hymns the same strain — “yet hast thou made with me an

everlasting covenant, ordered in all things, and sure.” I hope, my friends,

there are many of us who can join in this verse this morning, and who hope

to close our earthly pilgrimage with this upon our tongue.

We shall notice first, that the Psalmist had sorrow in his house —

“Although my house be not so with God.” Secondly, he had confidence in

the covenant — “yet he hath made with me an everlasting covenant.” And

thirdly, he had satisfaction in his heart, for he says — “this is all my

salvation, and all my desire.”

not so with God.” What man is there of all our race, who, if he had to

write his history, would not need to use a great many “althoughs?” If you

read the biography of any man, as recorded in the Sacred Word, you will

always find a “but,” or an “although,” before you have finished. Naaman

was a mighty man of valour, and a great man with his master, but he was a

leper. There is always a “but” in every condition, a crook in every lot,

some dark tint upon the marble pillar, some cloud in the summer sky, some

discord in the music, some alloy in the gold. So David, though a man who

had been raised from the sheepfold, a mighty warrior, a conqueror of

giants, a king over a great nation, yet, had his “althoughs” and the

“although” which he had, was one in his own house. Those are the worst

troubles which we have in our own household. We are not an evil beast

abroad, but we hate the lion most when it prowls upon our own estates, or

cruncheth on the floor of our dwelling. The greatest trouble with the thorn

is when it lieth in our bed, and we feel it in our pillow. Civil war is always

the fiercest-those are foes indeed who are of our own household. I think,

perhaps David interceded, when he said “Although my house be not so

with God, to speak partly of his affairs. If any man else had looked at

David’s affairs-the government of his country-he would have said,

“David’s government is the mirror of excellence.” His house was so rightly

ordered, that few of his subjects could murmur at him; but David

recollected that a greater and keener eye than that of man rested on him;

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and he says, speaking of his empire and his house-for you know the word

“house” in Scripture often means our business, our affairs, our

transactions, (Set thine house in order, for thou must die, and not live,”)-he

says, although before man my house may be well swept, and garnished, yet

it is not so with God as I can desire. Oh, beloved, there are some of us who

can walk before our fellow-men conscious of innocence; we dare defy the

gaze of our fellow-mortals; we can say, “Lord! thou knowest I am not

wicked.” We are blameless before this perverse generation: we walk

amongst them as lights in the world, and God has helped us, so that we are

clean from the great transgression; we are not afraid of a criticism of our

character, we are not fearful of being inspected by the eyes of all men, for

we feel that through God’s grace we have been kept from committing

ourselves; he has kept us, and the evil one toucheth us not. But with all this

conscious innocence-with all that dignity with which we stand before our

fellows-when we go into God’s sight, how changed we are! Ah, then, my

friends, we say not, “Lord! thou knowest I am not wicked;” but rather we

fall prostrate, and cry, “Unclean, unclean, unclean;” and as the leper cools

his heated brow with the water running in the cool sequestered brook, so

do we lave our body in Siloa’s stream, and strive to wash ourselves clean

in the water and blood from Christ’s river side. We feel that our house is

“not so with God;” though in the person of Jesus we are free from sin, and

white as angels are: yet when we stand before God, in our own persons,

we are obliged to confess, that honest as we may be upright as we have

been, just and holy before men, yet our house is “not so with God.”

But I imagine that the principal meaning of these words of David refers to

his family-his children. David had many trials in his children. It has often

been the lot of good men to have great troubles from their sons and

daughters. True, we know some households that are the very image of

peace and happiness where the father and mother bend the knee together in

family prayer, and they look upon an offspring numerous or not as it may

be, but most of them devoting their hearts to God. I know a household

which stands like a green oasis in the desert of this world. There be sons

who preach God’s gospel, and daughters who are growing up to fear the

Lord, and to love him. Such a household is indeed a pleasant halting-place

for a weary soul in its pilgrimage through this wilderness of life. Oh! happy

is that family whom God hath blessed. But there are other houses where

you will find the children are the trials of the parents. “Although my house

be not so with God,” may many an anxious father say; and ye pious

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mothers might lift your streaming eyes to heaven, and say, “Although my

house be not so with God.” That first-born son of yours, who was your

pride, has now turned out your disgrace. Oh! how have the arrows of his

ingratitude pierced into your soul, and how do you keenly feel at this

present moment, that sooner would you have buried him in his infancy;

sooner might he never have seen the light, and perished in the birth, than

that he should live to have acted as he has done, to be the misery of your

existence, and the sorrow of your life. O sons who are ungodly, unruly,

gay, and profligate, surely ye do not know the tears of pious mothers, or ye

would stop your sin. Methinks, young man, thou wouldst not willingly

allow thy mother to shed tears, however dearly you may love sin. Will you

not then stop at her entreaties? Can you trample upon your mother? Oh!

though you are riding a steeplechase to hell, cannot her weeping

supplications induce you to stay your mad career? Will you grieve her who

gave you life, and fondly cherished you at her breast? Surely you will long

debate e’er you can resolve to bring her grey heirs with sorrow to the

grave. Or has sin brutalized you? Are ye worse than stones? Have natural

feelings become extinct? Is the evil one entirely your master? Has he dried

up all the tender sympathies of your heart. Stay! young prodigal, and

ponder!

But, Christian men! ye are not alone in this. If ye have family troubles,

there are others who have borne the same. Remember Ephraim! Though

God had promised that Ephraim should abound as a tribe with tens of

thousands, yet it is recorded in 1 Chronicles 7:20-22: “And the sons of

Ephraim, Shuthelah and Bered his son, and Tahath his son, and Eladah his

son, and Tahath his son, and Zabad his son, and Shuthelah his son, and

Ezer and Elead, whom the men of Gath that were born in that land slew,

because they came down to take away their cattle. And Ephraim their

father mourned many days, and his brethren came to comfort him.”

Abraham himself had his Ishmael, and he cried to God on account thereof.

Think of Eli, a man who served God as a high priest, and though he could

rule the people, he could not rule his sons; and great was his grief thereat.

Ah! some of you, my brethren in the gospel, may lift your hands to heaven,

and ye may utter this morning these words with a deep and solemn

emphasis-you may write “Although” in capitals, for it is more than true

with some of you-”Although my house be not so with God.”

Before we leave this point: What must I say to any of those who are thus

tried and distressing in estate and family? First, let me say to you my

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brethren, it is necessary that you should have an “although” in your lot,

because if you had not, you know what you would do; you would build a

very downy nest on earth, and there you would lie down in sleep; so God

puts a thorn in your nest in order that you may sing. It is said by the old

writers, that the nightingale never sang so sweetly as when she sat among

thorns, since say they, the thorns prick her breast, and remind her of her

song. So it may be with you. Ye, like the larks, would sleep in your nest

did not some trouble pass by and affright you; then you stretch your wings,

and carolling the mating song, rise to greet the sun. Trials are sent to wean

you from the world; bitters are put into your drink, that ye may learn to

live upon the dew of heaven: the food of earth is mingled with gall, that ye

may only seek for true bread in the manna which droppeth from the sky.

Your soul without trouble would be as the sea if it were without tide or

motion, it would become foul and obnoxious. As Coleridge describes the

sea after a wondrous calm, so would the soul breed contagion and death.

But furthermore, recollect this, O thou who art tried in thy children-that

prayer can remove thy troubles. There is not a pious father or mother here,

who is suffering in the family, but may have that trial taken away yet. Faith

is as omnipotent as God himself, for it moves the arm which leads the stars

along. Have you prayed long for your children without a result? and have

ye said, “I will cease to pray, for the more I wrestle, the worse they seem

to grow, and the more am I tried?” Oh! say not so, thou weary watcher.

Though the promise tarrieth, it will come. Still sow the seed, and when

thou sowest it, drop a tear with each grain thou puttest into the earth. Oh,

steep thy seeds in the tears of anxiety, and they cannot rot under the clods,

if they have been baptized in so vivifying a mixture. And what though thou

didst without seeing thy sons the heirs of light? They shall be converted

even after thy death; and though thy bones shall be put in the grave, and

thy son may stand and curse thy memory for an hour, he shall not forget it

in the cooler moments of his recollection, when he shall meditate alone.

Then he shall think of thy prayers thy tears, thy groans; he shall remember

thine advice-it shall rise up and if he live in sin, still thy words shall sound

as one long voice from the realm of spirits, and either affright him in the

midst of his revelry, or charm him heavenward, like angel’s whispers,

saying, “Follow on to glory, where thy parent is who once did pray for

thee.” So the Christian may say, “Although my house be not so with God

now, it may be yet.” therefore will I still wait, for there be mighty instances

of conversion. Think of John Newton. He even became a slaver, yet was

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brought back. Hope on; never despair; faint heart never winneth the souls

of men, but firm faith winneth all things; therefore watch unto prayer.

“What I say unto you, I say unto all, watch.” There is your trouble, a small

cup filled from the same sea of tribulation as was the Psalmist’s when he

sung, “Although my house be not so with God.”

is to look from the dullness of earth to the brilliancy of heaven! How

glorious it is to leap from the ever tempest-tossed bark of this world, and

stand upon the terra firma of the covenant! So did David. Having done

with his “Although,” he then puts in a blessed “yet.” Oh! it is a “yet,” with

jewels set: “He hath made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all

things, and sure.”

Now let us notice these words as they come. First, David rejoiced in the

covenant, because it is divine in its origin. “Yet hath HE made with me an

everlasting covenant.” O that great word HE. Who is that? It is not my

odd-father or my odd mother who has made a covenant for me-none of

that nonsense. It is not a covenant man has made for me, or with me; but

yet hath HE made with me an everlasting covenant.” It is divine in its

origin, not human. The covenant on which the Christian rests, is not the

covenant of his infant sprinkling: he has altogether broken that scores of

times, for he has not “renounced the pomps and vanities of this wicked

world,” as he should have done, nor “all the lusts of the flesh.” Nor has he

really become regenerate through those holy drops of water which a

cassocked priest cast on his face. The covenant on which he rests and

stands secure, is that covenant which God has made with him. “Yet hath

HE made.” Stop, my soul. God, the everlasting father, has positively made

a covenant with thee; yes, that God, who in the thickest darkness dwells

and reigns for ever in his majesty alone; that God, who spake the world

into existence by a word, who holds it, like an Atlas, upon his shoulders,

who poises the destiny of all creation upon his finger; that God, stooping

from his majesty, takes hold of thy hand and makes a covenant with thee.

Oh! is it not a deed, the stupendous condescension of which might ravish

our hearts for ever if we could really understand it? Oh! the depths! “HE

hath made with me a covenant.” A king has not made a covenant with methat

were somewhat: an emperor has not entered into a compact with me,

but the Prince of the kings of the earth, the Shaddai, the Lord of all flesh,

the Jehovah of ages, the everlasting Elohim. “He hath made with me an

everlasting covenant.” O blessed thought! it is of divine origin.

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But notice its particular application. “Yet hath he made with ME an

everlasting covenant.” Here lies the sweetness of it to me, as an individual.

It is nought for me that he made peace for the world; I want to know

whether he made peace for me: it is little that he hath made a covenant, I

want to know whether he has made a covenant with me. David could put

his hand upon his heart and say, “Yet hath he made a covenant with ME.” I

fear I shall not be wrong in condemning the fashionable religion of the day,

for it is a religion which belongs to the crowd; and not a personal one

which is enjoyed by the individual. You will hear persons say, “Well, I

believe the doctrine of justification; I think that men are justified through

faith.” Yes, but are you justified by faith? “I believe,” says another “that we

are sanctified by the Spirit.” Yes, all very well, but are you sanctified by the

Spirit? Mark you, if ever you talk about personal piety very much, you will

always be run down as extravagant. If you really say from your heart, “I

know I am forgiven; I am certain that I am a pardoned sinner;”-and every

Christian will at times be able to say it, and would always, were it not for

his unbelief-if you say “I know in whom I have believed, I am confident

that I have not a sin now recorded in the black roll; that I am free from sin

as if I had never transgressed, through the pardoning blood of Jesus,” men

will say it is extravagant. Well, it is a delightful extravagance, it is the

extravagance of God’s Word, and I would to God more of us could

indulge in that holy, blessed extravagance. For we may well be extravagant

when we have an infinite sum to spend; we may well be lavish when we

know we never can exhaust the treasure. Oh! how sweet it is to say, “Yet

hath he made with ME an everlasting covenant. It is nought that you talk

to me of my brother being saved. I am very glad that my friend should get

to glory, and I shall rejoice to meet you all; but after all, the thing is, “Shall

I be there?”

Now, Christian, thou canst apply this personally. The covenant is made

with thee. Man, open thine eyes; there is thy name in the covenant. What is

it? It is some plain English name, perhaps. It never had an M.P. nor an

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M.A. after it, nor a “Sir” before it. Never mind, that name is in the

covenant. If you could take down your Father’s family Bible in heaven,-

you would find your name put in the register. O blessed thought! my namepositively

mine! not another’s. So, then, these eyes shall see him, and not

another’s for me. Rejoice, Christian; it is a personal covenant. “Yet hath he

made with me an everlasting covenant.”

Furthermore, this covenant is not only divine in its origin, but it is

everlasting in its duration. I have had some very pretty letters sent me

from anonymous writers who have listened to me, and being great cowards

(whom I always abhor) they cannot sign their names. They may know what

fate they receive; the condign punishment I appoint to them. I cut them

asunder, and thrust them into the fire. I hope the authors will not have a

similar fate. Some of them, however, quarrel with me, because I preach the

everlasting gospel. I dare not preach another, for I would not have another

if it were offered to me. An everlasting gospel is the only one which I think

worthy of an everlasting God. I am sure it is the only one which can give

comfort to a soul that is to live throughout eternity. Now, you know what

an “everlasting covenant” signifies. It meant a covenant which had no

beginning, and which shall never, never end. Some do not believe in the

everlasting nature of God’s love to his people. They think that God begins

to love his people when they begin to love him. My Arminian friends, did

you ever sing that verse in your meeting?-of course you have-

That is a glorious Calvinistic hymn, though we know whose hymn book it

is in. Well, then, if Jesus loved you before you loved him, why cannot you

believe that he always did love you? Besides, how stupid it is to talk so,

when you know God does not change. There is no such thing as time with

him; there is no past with him. If you say, “he loves me now,” you have in

fact said, “he loved me yesterday, and he will love me for ever.” There is

nothing but now with God. There is no such thing as past or future, and to

dispute about eternal election and so on, is all of no avail; because, if God

did choose his people at all-and we all admit that he chooses them now-I

do not care about whether you say he did so ten thousand thousand years

ago, because there is no such thing as the past with God; with him it is all

now. He sees things, past and future, as present in his eye. Only tell me that

he loves me now; that word “now,” in God’s dictionary, means everlasting.

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Tell me that God has now pardoned my sins; it means, that he always has,

for his acts are eternal acts. Oh how sweet to know an everlasting

covenant! I would not barter my gospel for fifty thousand other gospels. I

love a certain salvation; and when I first heard it preached, that if I

believed, God’s grace would keep me all my life long, and would never let

me fall into hell, but that I should preserve my character unblemished, and

walk among my fellow creatures pure and holy, then said I, “That is the

gospel for me, an everlasting gospel.” As for that sandy gospel, which lets

you fall away and then come back again, it is the wickedest falsehood on

earth. If I believed it, I would preach the gospel and be holy on the Sunday,

and fall away on the Monday, and be a Christian again on the Tuesday, and

I should say, I’ll have fallen from grace and have got up again.” But now,

as a true Calvinistic Christian, I desire to have in myself, and see in others,

a life of constant consistency, nor can I think it possible to fall away and

then return, after the many passages which assert the impossibility of such

a thing. That is the greatest safeguard on earth that I have something

within me that never can be quenched; that I put on the regimentals of a

service which I never must leave, which I cannot leave without having

proved that I never was enlisted at all. Oh! that keeps me near my God.

But once make me doubt that, and you will see me the vilest character

living under the sun. Take from me the everlastingness of the gospel, and

you have taken all. Dear old Watts Wilkinson once said to Joseph Irons,

when he said, “I love you to preach the covenant everlasting nature of

God’s love,”-”Ah!” said the old saint, “What is there else in the gospel if

you do not preach it?” Brother, what is there else? If we do not preach an

everlasting gospel, the gospel is not worth twopence. You may get

anything uncertain anywhere else; it is in the Bible alone that we get

everlasting things.

But notice the next word, for it is a sweet one, and we must not let one

portion go; It is ordered in all things.” “Order is heaven’s first law,” and

God has not a disorderly covenant. It is an orderly one. When he planned

it, before the world began, it was in all things ordered well. He so arranged

it, that justice should be fully satisfied, and yet mercy should be linked

hand-in-hand with it. He so planned it that vengeance should have its

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utmost jot and little, and yet mercy should save the sinner. Jesus Christ

came to confirm it, and by his atonement, he ordered it in all things; he paid

every drop of his blood; he did not leave one farthing of the ransom-money

for his dear people, but he ordered it in all things. And the Holy Spirit,

when he sweetly applies it, always applies it in order, he orders it in all

things. He makes us sometimes understand this order, but if we do not, be

sure of this, that the covenant is a well-ordered covenant. I have heard of a

man who bought a piece of land, and when the covenant was being made,

he thought he knew more about it than the lawyer; but you know it is said

that when a man is his own lawyer he has a fool for his client. In this case

the man had a fool for his client; and he drew up the covenant so badly,

that in a few years it was discovered to be good for nothing, and he lost his

property. But our Father’s covenant is drawn up according to the strictest

rules of justice; and so is ordered in all things. If hell itself should search itif

it were passed round amongst a conclave of demons, they could not find

a single fault with it. There are the technical terms of heaven’s court, there

is the great seal at the bottom, and there is the signature of Jesus, written in

his own blood. So it is “ordered in all things.”

That word things is not in the original, and we may read it persons, as well

as things. It is ordered in all persons-all the persons whose names are in the

covenant; it is ordered for them, and they shall come according to the

promise: “All that the Father giveth me shall come to me; and him that

cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.” O my beloved Christian, stop at

this promise a moment, for it is a sweet well of precious water to slake thy

thirst and refresh thy weariness. It is “ordered in all things.” What dost

thou want more than this? Dost thou need constraining grace? It is

“ordered in all things.” Dost thou require more of the spirit of prayer? It is

“ordered in all things.” Dost thou desire more faith? It is “ordered in all

things.” Art thou afraid lest thou shouldst not hold out to the end? It is

“ordered in all things.” There is converting grace in it, pardoning grace in

it; justifying grace, sanctifying grace, and persevering grace; for it is

“ordered in all things, and sure “Nothing is left out, so that whene’er we

come, we find all things there stored up in heavenly order. Galen, the

celebrated physician, says of the human body, that its bones are so well put

together, all the parts being so beautifully ordered, that we could not

change one portion of it without spoiling its harmony and beauty; and if we

should attempt to draw a model man, we could not, with all our ingenuity,

fashion a being more wondrous in workmanship than man as he is. It is so

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with regard to the covenant. If we might alter it, we could not change it for

the better, all its portions are beautifully agreed. I always feel when I am

preaching the gospel covenant that I am secure. If I preach any other

gospel, I am vulnerable, I am open to attack; but standing upon the firm

ground of God’s covenant, I feel I am in a tower of strength, and so 2

long as I hold all the truths, I am not afraid that even the devils of hell can

storm my castle. So secure is the man who believes the everlasting gospel;

no logic can stand against it. Only let our preachers give the everlasting

gospel to the people, and they will drink it as the ox drinketh water. You

will find they love God’s truth. But so long as God’s gospel is smothered,

and the candle is put under a bushel, we cannot expect men’s souls will be

brought to love it. I pray God that the candle may burn the bushel up, and

that the light may be manifest.

But now, to wind up our description of this covenant, it is sure. If I were a

rich man, there would be but one thing I should want to make my riches all

I desire, and that would be, to have them sure, for riches make to

themselves wings, and fly away. Health is a great blessing, and we want but

to write one word on it to make it the greatest blessing, that is the adjective

“sure.” We have relatives, and we love them; ah! if we could but write

“sure” on them, what a blessed thing it would be. We cannot call anything

“sure” on earth; the only place where we can write that word is on the

convenant, which is “ordered in all things and sure.” Now there is some

poor brother come here this morning who has lost his covenant, as he

thinks. Ah! brother, you once had peaceful hours and sweet enjoyment in

the presence of God, but now you are in gloom and doubt; you have lost

your roll. Well, let me tell you, though you have lost your roll, the

covenant is not lost, for all that. You never had the covenant in your hands

yet; you only had a copy of it. You thought you read your title clear, but

you never read the title-deeds themselves, you only held a copy of the lease

and you have lost it. The covenant itself; where is it? It is under the throne

of God; it is in the archives of heaven, in the ark of the covenant; it is in

Jesu’s breast it is on his hands, on his heart-it is there. Oh! if God were to

put my salvation in my hands, I should be lost in ten minutes; but my

salvation is not there-it is in Christ’s hands. You have read of the

celebrated dream of John Newton, which I will tell you to the best of my

recollection. He thought he was out at sea, on board a vessel, when some

bright angel flew down and presented him with a ring, saying, “As long as

you wear this ring you shall be happy, and your soul shall be safe.” He put

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the ring on his finger, and he felt happy to have it in his own possession.

Then there came a spirit from the vasty deep, and said to him; “That ring is

nought but folly;” and by cajolery and flattery the spirit at last persuaded

him to slip the ring from off his finger, and he dropped it in the sea. Then

there came fierce things from the deep; the mountains bellowed, and hurled

upward their volcanic lava: all the earth was on fire, and his soul in the

greatest trouble. By-and-bye a spirit came, and diving below, fetched up

the ring, and showing it to him, said, “Now thou art safe, for I have saved

the ring.” Now might John Newton have said, “Let me put it on my finger

again.” “No, no, you cannot take care of it yourself,” and up the angel

flew, carrying the ring away with him, so that then he felt himself secure,

since no cajolery of hell could get it from him again, for it was up in

heaven. My life is “hid with Christ in God.” If I had my spiritual life in my

own possession I should be a suicide very soon, but it is not with me; and

as I cannot save myself, as a Christian I cannot destroy myself, for my life

is wrapped up in the covenant: it is with Christ in heaven. Oh, glorious and

precious covenant!

heart.; This is,” he said, all my salvation, and all my desire.” I should ill like

the task of riding till I found a satisfied worldly man. I suspect there is not

a horse that would not be worn off its legs before I found him; I think I

should myself grow grey with age before I had discovered the happy

individual, except I went to one place-that is, the heart of a man who has a

covenant made with him, “ordered in all things, and sure.” Go to the

palace, but there is not satisfaction there, go to the cottage though the poet

talks about sweet retirement and blest contentment, there is not satisfaction

there. The only solid satisfaction satisfying the mouth with good things-is

to be found in the true believer, who is satisfied from himself, satisfied with

the covenant. Behold David: he says, “As for my salvation, I am secure; as

for my desire, I am gratified: for this is all my salvation, and all my desire.”

He is satisfied with his salvation. Bring up the moralist. He has been

toiling and working in order to earn salvation. Are you confident that if

you died you would enter into heaven? “Well, I have been as good as other

people, and, I dare say, I shall be more religious before I die;” but he

cannot answer our question. Bring up the religious man-I mean the merely

outwardly religious man. Are you sure that if you were to die you would

go to heaven? “Well, I regularly attend church or chapel, I cannot say that

I make any pretensions to be able to say, ‘He hath made with me an

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everlasting covenant.’” Very well, you must go. So I might introduce a

score of men, and there is not one of them who can say, “This is all my

salvation.” They always want a little supplement, and most of you intend

making that supplement a little while before you die. An old Jewish Rabbi

says, that every man ought to repent at least one day before his last day;

and as we do not know when our last day shall be, we ought to repent today,

How many wish they knew when they were going to die, for then they

fancy they would be sure to repent, and be converted a little while before.

Why, if you had it revealed to you, that you would die at twenty minutes

past twelve next Sunday, you would go on in sin up till twelve o’clock, and

then you would say, “There are twenty minutes more-time enough yet;”

and so until the twenty minutes past had come, when your soul would sink

into eternal flames. Such is procrastination. It is the thief of time, it steals

away our life, and did we know the hour of our dissolution, we should be

no more prepared for it than we are now. You cannot say, can you, that

you have all your salvation? But a Christian can. He can walk through the

cholera and the pestilence, and feel that should the arrow smite him, death

would be to him the entrance of life; he can lie down and grieve but little at

the approach of dissolution, for he has all his salvation; his jewels are in his

breast, gems which shall shine in heaven.

Then, the Psalmist says, he has all his desire. There is nought that can fill

the heart of man except the Trinity. God has made man’s heart a triangle.

Men have been for centuries trying to make the globe fill the triangle, but

they cannot do it; it is the Trinity alone that can fill a triangle, as old

Quarles well says. There is no way of getting satisfaction but by gaining

Christ, getting heaven, winning glory, getting the covenant, for the word

covenant comprises all the other things. “All my desire,”-says the Psalmist.

I have not a desire, I have nothing to do but to live and be happy all my life

in the company of Christ, and then to ascend to heaven, to be in his

immediate presence, where

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Just one word with my friends who do not agree with me in doctrine. I am

sure, my dear friends, that I wish not to anathematize any of those whose

creed is the reverse of mine; only they must allow me to differ from them

and to speak freely, and if they do not allow me they know very well that I

shall. But I have this much to say to those dear friends who cannot bear the

thought of an everlasting covenant. Now, you cannot alter it can you? If

you do not like it, there it is. “God hath made with me an everlasting

covenant.” And you must confess, when you read the Bible, that there are

some very knotty passages for you. You might, perhaps, remove them out

of your Bible but then you cannot erase them out of divine verities. You

know it is true, that God is immutable, do you not? He never changes-you

must know that, for the Bible says so. It declares that when he has begun a

good work, he will carry it through. Do not get reading frothy

commentators any longer, take the Bible as it stands, and if you do not see

everlasting love there, there is some fault in your eyes, and it is a case

rather for the Ophthalmic hospital, than for me. If you cannot see

everlasting, eternal security, blood-bought righteousness, there, I am

hopeless altogether of your conversion to the truth, while you read it with

your present prejudices. It has been my privilege to give more prominence

in the religious world to those old doctrines of the gospel. I have delighted

in the musty old folios which many of my brethren have kept bound in

sheepskins and goatskins, on their library shelves. As for new books, I

leave them to others. Oh! if we might but go back to those days when the

best of men were our pastors-the days of the Puritans. Oh! for a puritanical

gospel again, then we should not have the sleepy hearers, the empty

chapels, the drowsy preachers the velvet-mouthed men who cannot speak

the truth, but we should have “Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace,

and good-will towards men.” Do go home and search. I have told you

what I believe to be true; if it is not true, detect the error by reading your

Bibles for yourselves, and searching out the matter. As for you, ye

ungodly, who hitherto have had neither portion nor lot in this matter,

recollect that God’s Word speaks to you as well as to the Christian, and

says, “Turn ye, turn ye; why will ye die, O house of Israel?” graciously

promising that whosoever cometh to Christ he will in no wise cast out. It is

a free gospel, free as the air, and he who has but life to breathe it may

breathe it; so that every poor soul here who is quickened, and has a sense

of his guilt, may come to Christ.

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All the evidence you require is to feel your need of Christ; and recollect, if

you only once come, if you do but believe, you will be safe through all

eternity; and amidst the wreck of matter, the crash of worlds, the

conflagration of the universe, and the destruction of all terrestrial things,

your soul must still be eternally secure in the covenant of God’s free grace.

God enable you now to become his adopted children by faith in Jesus.