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SUBJECT: 084 PSA 119:83 A Bottle in the Smoke
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A Bottle in the Smoke
March 23, 1856
by
C. H. SPURGEON
(1834-1892)
"For I am become like a bottle in the smoke; yet
do I not forget they statutes."- Psa_119:83.
The figure of "a bottle in the smoke" is essentially
oriental; we must therefore go to the East for its
explanation. This we will supply to our hearers and
readers in the words of the Author of the Pictorial
Bible: "This doubtless refers to a leathern bottle, of
kid or goat-skin. The peasantry of Asia keep many
articles, both dry and liquid, in such bottles, which,
for security, are suspended from the roof, or hung
against the walls of their humble dwellings. Here they
soon become quite black with smoke; for as, in the
dwellings of the peasantry, there are seldom any
chimneys, and the smoke can only escape through an
aperture in the roof, or by the door, the apartment is
full of dense smoke whenever a fire is kindled in it.
And in those nights and days, when the smokiness of the
hovels in which we daily rested during a winter's
journey in Persia, Armenia, and Turkey, seemed to make
the cold and weariness of actual travel a relief, we
had ample occasion to observe the peculiar blackness of
such skin vessels, arising from the manner in which
substances offering a surface of this sort, receive the
full influence of the smoke, and detain the minute
particles of soot which rest upon them. When such
vessels do not contain liquids, and are not quite
filled by the solids which they hold, they contract a
shrunk and shrivelled appearance, to which the Psalmist
may also possibly allude as well as to the blackness.
But we presume that the leading idea refers to the
latter circumstance, as in the East blackness has an
opposite signification to the felicitous meaning of
whiteness. David had doubtless seen bottles of this
description hanging up in his tent when a wanderer; and
though he might have had but few in his palace, yet in
the cottages of his own poor people he had, no doubt,
witnessed them. Hence he says of himself, 'I am
become,' by trouble and affliction, by trial and
persecution, 'like a bottle in the smoke; yet do I not
forget thy statutes.'"
First, God's people have their trials-they get put in
the smoke; secondly, God's people feel their
trials-they "become like a bottle in the smoke;"
thirdly, God's people do not forget God's statutes in
their trials-"I am become like a bottle in the smoke;
yet do I not forget thy statutes."
I. GOD'S PEOPLE HAVE THEIR TRIALS. This is an old
truth, as old as the everlasting hills, because trials
were in the covenant, and certainly the covenant is as
old as the eternal mountains. It was never designed by
God when he chose his people, that they should be an
untried people; that they should be chosen to peace and
safety, to perpetual happiness here below, and freedom
from sickness and the pains of mortality. But rather,
on the other hand, when he made the covenant, he made
the rod of the covenant too; when he drew up the
charter of privileges, he also drew up the charter of
chastisements; when he gave us the roll of heirship, he
put down the rods amongst the things to which we should
inevitably be heirs. Trials are a part of our lot; they
were predestinated for us in God's solemn decrees; and
so surely as the stars are fashioned by his hands, he
has fixed their orbits, so surely are our trials
weighed in scales; he has predestinated their season
and their place, their intensity and the effect they
shall have upon us. Good men must never expect to
escape troubles; if they do, they shall be
disappointed; some of their predecessors have escaped
them.
"The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown."
Mark Job, of whose patience ye have heard; read ye well
of Abraham, for he had his trials, and by his faith
under them, when he offered up Isaac, he became "the
father of the faithful." Note ye well the biographies
of all the patriarchs, of all the prophets, of all the
apostles and martyrs, and you shall discover none of
those, whom God made vessels of mercy, who were not
hung up like bottles in the smoke. It is ordained of
old, that the cross of trouble, even as the sparks fly
upwards; and when born again, it does seem as if we had
a birth to double trouble; and double toil and trouble
come to the man who hath double grace and double mercy
bestowed upon him. Good men must have their trials;
they must expect to be like bottles in the smoke.
Sometimes these trials arise from the poverty of their
condition. It is the bottle in the cottage which gets
into the smoke, not the bottle in the palace. The
Queen's plate knows nothing of smoke; we have seen at
Windsor how carefully it is preserved; it knoweth
nothing of trial, no hands are allowed to touch that,
so as to injure it, although even it may be stolen by
accident when the guards are not careful over it.
Still, it was not intended to be subject to smoke. So
with God's poor people; they must expect to have smoke
in their dwellings. We should suppose that smoke does
not enter into the house of the rich, although even
then our supposition would be false; but certainly we
must suppose there is more smoke where the chimney is
ill built, and the home is altogether of bad
construction. It is the poverty of the Arab that puts
his bottle in the smoke; so the poverty of Christians
exposes them to much trouble, and inasmuch as God's
people are for the most part poor, for that reason must
they always be for the most part in affliction. We
shall not find many of God's people in the higher
ranks; not many of them shall ever be illustrious in
this world. Until happier times come, when kings shall
be their nursing fathers, and queens their nursing
mothers, it must still be true that "God hath chosen
the poor in this world, rich in faith, that they should
be heirs of the kingdom." Poverty hath its privileges,
for Christ hath lived in it; but it hath its ills, it
hath its smoke, it hath it trials. Ye know not
sometimes how ye shall be provided for; ye are often
pinched for food and raiment, ye are vexed with anxious
cares, ye wonder whence tomorrow's food shall come, and
where ye shall obtain your daily supplies. It is
because of your poverty that ye are hung up like a
bottle in the smoke.
Many of God's people, however, are not poor; and even
if they are, poverty does not occasion so much trouble
to them as some suppose; for God, in the midst of
poverty, makes his children very glad, and so cheers
their hearts in the cottage that they scarce know
whether it e a palace or a hovel; yea, he doth send
such sweet music across the waters of their woe, that
they know not whether they be on dry land or not.
But there are other trials: and this brings us to
remark, that our trials frequently result from our
comforts. What makes the smoke? Why, it is the fire, by
which the Arab warms his hands, that smokes his bottle,
and smokes him too. So, beloved, our comforts usually
furnish us with troubles. It is the law of nature, that
there should never be a good, without having an ill
connected with it. What if the stream fertilize the
land? It can sometimes drown the inhabitants. What if
the fire cheer us? doth it not frequently consume our
dwellings? What if the sun enlighten us? does he not
sometimes scorch and smite us with his heat? What if
the rain bring forth our food, and cause the flowers to
blossom on the face of the earth? does it not also
break the young blossom from the trees, and cause many
diseases? There is nothing good without its ill, there
is no fire without its smoke. The fire of our comfort
will always have the smoke of trial with it. You will
find it so, if you instance the comforts you have in
your own family. You have relations; mark you, every
relationship engenders its trial, and every fresh
relationship upon which you enter opens to you, at one
time certainly, a new source of joys, but infallibly
also a new source of sorrows. Are you parents? your
children are your joy; but those children cause you
some smoke, because you fear, lest they should not be
brought up in "the nurture and admonition of the Lord;"
and it may be, when they come to riper years, that they
will grieve your spirits,-God grant they may not break
your hearts by their sins! You have wealth. Well, that
has its joys with it; but still, hath it not its trials
and its troubles? Hath not the rich man more to care
for than the poor? He who hath nothing sleepeth
soundly, for the thief will not molest him; but he who
hath abundance often trembles lest the rough wind
should blown down that which he hath builded-lest the
rude storm should wreck that argosy laden with his
gold-lest an overwhelming and sudden turn in the tide
of commerce should sweep away his speculations and
destroy his hopes. Just as the birds that visit us fly
away from us, so do our joys bring sorrow with them. In
fact, joy and sorrow are twins; the blood which runs in
the veins of sorrow, runs in the veins of joy too. For
what is the blood of sorrow, is it not the tear? and
what is the blood of joy? When we are full of joy do we
not weep? Ah! that we do. The same drop which expresses
joy is sorrow's own emblem; we weep for joy, and we
weep for sorrow. Our fires gives smoke, to tell us that
our comforts have their trials with them. Christian
men! you have extraordinary fires, which others have
never kindled; expect then to have extraordinary smoke.
You have the presence of Christ; but then you will have
the smoke of fear, lest you should lose it. You have
the promise of God's Word-there is the fire of it: but
you have the smoke sometimes, when you read it without
the illumination of God's Spirit. You have the joy of
assurance; but you have also the smoke of doubt, which
blows into your eyes, and well nigh blinds you. You
have your trials, and your trials arise from your
comforts. The more comfort you have, the more fire you
have, the more sorrows shall you have, and the more
smoke.
Again, the ministry is the great fire by which
Christian men warm their hands: but the ministry hath
much smoke with it. How often have you come to this
house of God and had your spirits lifted up! But
perhaps as often ye have come here to be cast down.
Your harp strings at times have been all loose; you
could not play a tune of joy upon them, you have come
here, and Christ tuned your harp, so that it could
awake "like David's harp of solemn sound." But at other
times you have come here, and had all the rejoicings
removed from you, by some solemn searching sermon. Last
Sabbath day, how many of you there were like bottles in
the smoke! This pulpit, which is intended at times to
give you fire, is also intended to have smoke with it.
It would not be God's pulpit if no smoke issued from
it. When God made Sinai his pulpit, Sinai was
altogether on a smoke. You have often been like bottles
in the smoke,-the smoke caused by the fire of God's own
kindling, the fire of the gospel ministry.
I think, however, that David had one more thought. The
poor bottle in the smoke keeps there for a long time,
till it gets black; it is not just one puff of smoke
that comes upon it; the smoke is always going up,
always girding the poor bottle; it lives in an
atmosphere of smoke. So, beloved, some of us hang up
like bottles in the smoke, for months, or for a whole
year. No sooner do you get out of one trouble, than you
tumble into another; no sooner do you get up one hill,
than you have to mount another; it seems to be all up
hill to heaven with you. You feel that John Bunyan is
right in his ditty-"A Christian man is seldom long at
ease; when one trouble's gone, another doth him seize."
You are always in the smoke. You are linked perhaps
with an ungodly partner; or perhaps you are of a
singular temperament, and your temperament naturally
puts clouds and darkness round about you, so that you
are always in the smoke. Well, beloved, that was the
condition of David; he was not just sometimes in trial,
but it seemed as if trials came to him every day. Each
day had its cares; each hour carried on its wings some
fresh tribulation; while, instead of bringing joy, each
moment did but toll the knell of happiness, and bring
another grief. Well, if this is your case, fear not,
you are not alone in your trials; but you see the truth
of what is uttered here: you are become like bottles in
the smoke.
II. This brings us to the second point: CHRISTIAN MEN
FEEL THEIR TROUBLES. They are in the smoke; and they
are like bottles in the smoke. There are some things
that you might hang up in the smoke for many a day, and
they would never be much changed, because they are so
black now, that they could never be made any blacker,
and so shrivelled now, that they never could become any
worse. But the poor skin bottle shrivels up in the
heat, gets blacker, and shows at once the effect of the
smoke; it is not an unfeeling thing, like a stone, but
it is at once affected. Now, some men think, that grace
makes a man unable to feel suffering; I have heard
people insinuate that the martyrs did not endure much
pain when they were being burned to death; but this is
a mistake, Christian men are not like stones; they are
like bottles in the smoke. In fact, if there be an
difference, a Christian man feels his trials more than
another, because he traces them to God, and that makes
them more acute, as coming from the God whom he loves.
But at the same time, I grant you, it makes them more
easy to bear, because he believes they will work the
comfortable fruits of righteousness. A dog will bite
the stone that is thrown at it, but a man would resent
the injury on the man that threw the stone. Stupid,
foolish, carnal unbelief quarrels with the trial; but
faith goes into the Court of King's Bench at once, and
asks its God "wherefore dost thou content with me." But
even faith itself does not avert the pain of
chastisement, it enables us to endure, but does not
remove the trial. The Christian is not wrong in giving
way to his feelings; did not his Master shed tears when
Lazarus was dead? and did he not, when on the cross,
utter the exceeding bitter cry, "My God! my God! why
hast thou forsaken me?" Our Heavenly Father never
intended to take away our griefs when under trial; he
does not put us beyond the reach of the flood, but
builds us an ark, in which we float, until the water be
ultimately assuaged, and we rest on the Ararat of
heaven for ever, God takes not his people to an Elysium
where they become impervious to painful feelings: but
he gives us grace to endure our trials, and to sing his
praises while we suffer. "I am become like a bottle in
the smoke:" I feel what God lays upon me.
The trial that we do not feel is no trial at all. I
remember a remarkable case of assault and battery that
was tried sometime ago. I knew a friend who happened to
be in court. It was a most singular affair; for when
the prosecutor was requested to state in what the
assault consisted; he said, in curious English, "Ah!
sir, he struck me a most tremendous blow." "Well, but
where did he strike you?" "Well, sir, he did not hit
me; it only just grazed me." Of course the judge said
there was no assault and battery, because there was no
real blow struck. So we sometimes meet with persons,
who say, "I could bear that trial if it did not touch
my feelings." Of course you could, for then it would be
no trial at all. Suppose a man were to see his house
and property burned, would you call it a trial, if he
could do as Sheridan did, when his theatre was burned?
He went to a house opposite, and sat down drinking, and
jokingly said, "Surely, every man has a right to sit
and warm his hands by his own fireside." It is feeling
that makes it a trial; the essence of the trial lies in
my feeling it. And God intended his trials to be felt.
His rods are not made of wheat straw, they are made of
true birch; and his blows fall just where we feel them.
He does not strike us on the iron plates of our armour;
but he smites us where we are sure to be affected.
And yet more: trials which are not felt are
unprofitable trials. If there be no blueness in the
wound, then the soul is not made better; if there be no
crying out, then there will be no emptying out of our
depravity. It is just so much as we feel, that we are
profited; but a trial unfelt must be a trial
unsanctified, a trial under which we do not feel at
all, cannot be a blessing to us, because we are only
blessed by feeling it, under the agency of God's Holy
Spirit. Christian man! do not blush, because you are
like a bottle in the smoke: because you are sensitive
under affliction, for so you ought to be. Do not let
others say, you ought not feel it so much, because your
husband is dead, or your child is dead, or you have
lost your property. Just tell them that you ought; for
God sent the trouble, that you might feel it (not
excessively, and murmur against God,) but that you
might feel the rod, and then kiss it. That is patience:
not when we do not feel, but when we feel it, and say,
"Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him." "I am
like a bottle in the smoke." Now, a bottle, when it is
in the smoke, gets very black: so does the Christian,
when he is in the smoke of trial, or in the smoke of
the gospel ministry, or the smoke of persecution, get
very black to his own esteem. It is marvellous how
bright we are when everything goes right with us; but
it is equally marvellous how black we get when a little
tribulation comes upon us. We think very well of
ourselves while there is no smoke; but let the smoke
come, and it just reveals the blackness of our hearts.
Trials teach us what we are; they dig up the soil, and
let us see what we are made of; they just turn up some
of the ill weeds on the surface; they are good, for
this reason, they make us know our blackness.
A bottle, too, that hangs up in the smoke, will become
very useless. So do we, often, when we are under a
trying ministry, or a trying providence, feel that we
are so very useless, good for nothing, like a bottle
that has been hung up in the smoke, that nobody will
ever drink out of any more, because it will smoke
everything that is put in it, we feel that we are no
use to anybody-that we are poor unprofitable creatures.
In our joys we are honorable creatures; we scarcely
think the Creator could do without us; but when we are
in trouble, we feel, "I am a worm, and no man"-good for
nothing; let me die; I have become useless, as well as
black, "like a bottle in the smoke."
And then a bottle in the smoke is an empty bottle. It
would not have been hung up in the smoke unless it had
been empty. And very often under trials how empty we
become; we are full enough in our joys; but the smoke
and heat soon dry every atom of moisture out of us; all
our hope is gone, all our strength is departed, we then
feel that we are empty sinners, and want a full Christ
to save us. We are like bottles in the smoke.
Have I described any of your characters? I dare say
some of you are like bottles in the smoke. You do feel
your trials; you have a soft, tender heart, and the
arrows of the Almighty sink fast in it. You are like a
piece of sea-weed, affected by every change of the
weather; not like a piece of rock, that might be hung
up and would never change, but you are capable of being
affected, and it is quite right you should be: you are
"become like a bottle in the smoke."
III. And now, beloved, the third and blessed thought
is, that CHRISTIANS, THOUGH THEY HAVE TROUBLES, AND
FEEL THEIR TROUBLES, DO NOT IN THEIR TROUBLES FORGET
GOD'S STATUTES.
What are God's statutes? God has two kinds of statutes,
both of them engraved in eternal brass. The first are
the statutes of his commands; and of these he has said,
"Heaven and earth shall pass away, but not one jot or
tittle of the law shall fail till all be fulfilled."
These statutes are like the statutes of the Medes and
Persians; they are binding upon all his people. His
precepts are a light and easy yoke; but they are one
which no man must cast from his shoulders; all must
carry the commands of Christ, and all who hope to be
saved by him must take up his cross daily and follow
him. Well, the Psalmist said, "In the midst of my
trials I have not swerved from thy statutes; I have not
attempted to violate thy commands; I have not in any
way moved from the strict path of integrity; and in the
midst of all my persecutions, I have gone straight on,
never once forgetting God's statutes or commands." And
then again: there are statutes of promise, which are
equally firm, each of them as immortal as God who
uttered them. David did not forget these; for he said
of them, "Thy statutes have been my song, in the house
of my pilgrimage;" and he could not have sung about
them if he had forgotten them.
Why was it David still held fast by God's statutes?
First of all, David was not a bottle in the fire, or
else he would have forgotten them. Our trials are
smoke, but not fire; they are very uncomfortable, but
they do not consume us. In other parts of Scripture,
the figure of fire may be applied to our trials, but
here it would not be appropriate, because the bottle
would be burned up directly, if it were in the fire.
But the Christian may say, "True, it is all smoke round
about me, but there is nothing which tends to burn up
my piety; smoke may dim my evidence, but it cannot burn
it; it may, and certainly will, be obnoxious to my eyes
and nose, and all my senses, but it cannot burn my
limbs; it may stop my breath, and prevent my drinking
in the pure air of heaven, but it cannot consume my
lungs and burn the vital parts of my body. Ah! it is
well for thee, O Christian, that there is more smoke
than fire in thy trials. And there is no cause why you
should forget your God in your troubles; they may have
a tendency to drive you from him, but like great waves,
they often wash the drift wood of the poor lost barks
upon the beach of God's love; and the mast, that might
have floated out to sea, and been carried no one knows
where, if often stranded on the shore, and there once
more is made to do fresh service. So art thou,
Christian, washed on shore by the waves of thy trouble,
and never art thou washed away by them. "I have not
forgotten thy statutes."
Another reason why, when David was in the smoke, he did
not forget God's statutes was this, that Jesus Christ
was in the smoke with him, and the statutes were in the
smoke with him too. God's statutes have been in the
fire, as well as God's people. Both the promise and the
precept are in the furnace; and if I hang up in the
smoke, like a bottle, I see hanging up by my side,
God's commands, covered with soot, and smoke, subject
to the same perils. Suppose I am persecuted: It is a
comfort to know that men do not persecute me, but my
Master's truth. It is a singular thing, with regard to
all the envenomed shafts that have been hurled at me,
that they have generally fallen on that part of my
frame which is most invulnerable, because they have
generally fallen on something I have quoted from
somebody else, or proved from Scripture. They may go
on; it is sweet to think that Jesus Christ is in the
smoke as well as we are; and the more flame there is,
the better we shall be able to see our Master in the
smoke with us.
"By God's command where'er I stray,
Sorrow attends me all the way,
A never failing friend;
And, if my sufferings may augment
Thy praise, behold me well content-
Let sorrow still attend!
It costs me no regret, that she
Who follow'd Christ should follow me;
And though where'er she goes,
Thorns spring spontaneous at her feet,
I love her and extract a sweet
From all my bitter woes."
Another reason why David did not forget the statutes
was, they were in the soul, where the smoke does not
enter. Smoke does not enter the interior of the bottle;
it only affects the exterior. So it is with God's
children: the smoke does not enter into their hearts;
Christ is there, and grace is there, and Christ and
grace are both unaffected by the smoke. Come up, clouds
of smoke! curl upward, till ye envelop me! Still will I
hang on the Nail, Christ Jesus-the sure Nail, which
never can be moved from its place-and I will feel, that
"while the outward man decayeth, the inward man is
renewed day by day;" and the statutes being there, I do
not forget them. "For I am become like a bottle in the
smoke; yet I do not forget thy statutes." To such of
you as can join with David, let me give a word of
consolation. If you have been persecuted, and still
hold fast by God's word-if ye have been afflicted, and
still persevere in the knowledge of our Lord and
Master, you have every reason to believe yourself a
Christian. If under your trials and troubles you remain
just what you were when at ease, you may then hope, and
not only so, but steadfastly believe and be assured
that you are a child of God. Some of you, however, are
very much like Christians, when you hear sermons full
of promises; when I preach to you about bruised reeds,
or address you with the invitation, "Come unto me, all
ye that labour;" but when I give you a smoky sermon-one
which you cannot endure-if you then can say, guilty,
weak, and helpless I may be, but still I fall into his
arms; sinful I know I am, and I have grace cause for
doubt, but still
"There, there, unshaken will I rest,
Till this vile body dies;"
I know, poor, weak, and helpless though I am, that I
have a rich Almighty Friend; if you can stand a little
smoke, then you may believe yourself to be a child of
God. But there are some fantastic people we know of,
who are shocked with a very puff of smoke, they cannot
endure it, they go out at once, just like rats out of
the hold of a ship when they begin to smoke it; but if
you can live in the smoke and say, "I feel it, and
still can endure it,"-if you can stand a smoky sermon,
and endure a smoky trial, and hold fast to God under a
smoky persecution, then you have reason to believe,
that you are certainly a child of God. Fair-weather
birds! you are good for nothing; it is the stormy
petrels that are God's favorites. He loves the birds
that can swim in the tempest; he loves those who can
move in the storm, and like the eagle, companion of the
lightening flash, can make the wind their chariot, and
ride upon forked flames of fire. If in the heat of
battle, when your helmet is bruised by some powerful
enemy, you can still hold up your head, and say, "I
know whom I have believed," and do not swerve from your
post, then you are verily a child of heaven; for
constancy, endurance, and perseverance, are the true
marks of a hero of the cross, and of the invincible
warriors of the Lord. Those are no invincible ships
that flee away before a storm; he is no brave warrior
who hears reports from others that a fort is
impregnable, and dares not attack it; but he is brave,
who dashes his ship beneath the guns, or runs her well
nigh aground, and gives broadside after broadside with
a desperate valour against his foe; he who in the smoke
and the tempest, in the clamour and roar of the battle,
can yet cooly give his commands, and knowing that every
man is expected to do his duty, can fight valiantly, he
is a brave commander, he is a true soldier, he shall
receive from his master a crown of glory. O Christian!
cleave to thy Master in the smoke, hold on to thy Lord
in the trials, and thou shalt be refined by thine
afflictions; yea, thou shalt exceedingly increase, and
be profited beyond measure.
However, I have some here who can consume their own
smoke. There are some of my congregation who, when they
have any trials, can manage to get over them very well
themselves. They say, "Well, I don't care, you seem to
be a sad set of simpletons, you feel everything; but as
for me, it all rolls off, and I don't care for
anything." NO, I dare say you don't but the time will
come when you will find the truth of that little story
you used to read when you were children, that don't
care came to a very bad end. These persons are not like
bottles in the smoke, but like pieces of wood hanging
over it; but they will find there is something more
than smoke by-and-bye; they will come to a place, where
there is not only smoke, but fire; and though they can
endure the smoke of this world's troubles, they will
find it not so easy as they imagine to endure the
unutterable burnings and the everlasting flames of that
pit whose fire knows no extinction, and whose worm
shall know no death. Oh! hardened sinner, thou hast
sorrows now, which are like the skirmishers before an
army, a few light-armed troops to lead the way for the
whole hosts of God's avengers, who shall trample thee
beneath their feet. One or two drops of woe have fallen
on the pavement of thy life; thou laughest at them; ah!
but they are the heralds of a shower of fire and
brimstone, which God shall rain out of heaven upon thy
soul throughout eternity. And yet you may be pitying us
poor Christians, because of our troubles and
sufferings. Pity us, do you? Ah! but our light
afflictions is but for a moment, and it worketh for us
a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. Take
your pity back, and reserve it for yourselves; for your
light joy, which is but for a moment, worketh out for
you a far more exceeding and eternal weight of torment,
and your little bliss will be the mother of an
everlasting, unutterable torture, which we shall
happily escape. Your sun will soon set, and at its
setting your night shall come; and when your night
cometh, it will be night for ever, without hope of
light again. Ere thy sun setteth, my hearer, may God
give thee grace. Dost thou inquire what thou shouldst
do to be saved? Again comes the old answer: "Believe on
the Lord Jesus Christ and be baptized, and thou shalt
be saved." If thou art no sinner, I have no salvation
for thee; if thou art a Pharisee, and knowest not thy
sins, I have no Christ to preach to thee; I have no
heaven to offer to thee, as some have; but if thou art
a sinner, a bona-fide sinner, if thou art a real
sinner, not a sham one, I have this to tell thee:
"Jesus Christ came to save sinners, even the chief;"
and if thou wilt believe on him, thou shalt go out of
this house of prayer, shriven, absolved, without a sin;
forgiven, pardoned, washed, without a stain, accepted
in the Beloved. As long as thou livest, that pardon
shall avail thee; and when thou diest, thou wilt have
nought to do, but to show it at the gates of paradise,
to gain admittance. And then, in a nobler and sweeter
song, that pardon shall form the basis of thy praise,
while heaven's choirs shall sing, or while the praise
of the Eternal shall be the chaunt of the universe. God
bless thee! Amen.
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