A Sermon for the Worst Man on Earth

“And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner.” — Luke xviii. 13.

IT was the fault of the Pharisee that, though he went up into the temple to pray, he did not pray; there is no prayer in all that he said. It is one excellence of the publican that he went up to the temple to pray, and he did pray: there is nothing but prayer in all that he said, “God be merciful to me a sinner” is a pure, unadulterated prayer throughout. It was the fault of the Pharisee that when he went up to the temple to pray he forgot an essential part of prayer, which is confession of sin: bespoke as if he had uo sins to confess, but many virtues to parade. It was a chief excellence in the devotion of the publican that he did confess his sin, ay, that his utterance v as full of confession of sin: from beginning to end it was an acknowledgment of his guilt, and an appeal for grace to the merciful God. The prayer of the publican i» admirable fur its fulness of meaning. An expositor calls it a holy telegram; and certainly it is so compact and so condensed, so free from superfluous words, that it is worthy to be called by that name. I do not gee how he could have expressed his meaning more fully or more briefly. In the original Greek the words are even fewer than in the English. Oh, that men would learn to pray with less of language and more of meaning! What great things are packed away in this short petition! God, mercy, sin, the propitiation, and forgiveness.

He speaketh of great matters, and trifles arc not thought of. He hasnothing to do with fastings twice in the week, or the paying of tithes, and such second-rate things; the matters he treats of are of a highei order. His trembling heart moves among sublimities which overcome him, and he speaks in tones consistent therewith. He deals with the greatest things that ever can be: he pleads for his life, hia soul. Where could he find themes more weighty, more vital to his eternal interests? He is not playing at prayer, but pleading in awful earnest

His supplication speeded well with God, and he speedily won his suit with heaven. Mercy granted to him full justification. The prayer so pleased the Lord Jesus Christ, who heard it, that he condescended to become a portrait painter, and took a sketch of the petitioner. I say the prayer in itself was so pleasing to the gracious Saviour, that he teils us how it was offered: “Standing afar off, he would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast.” Luke, who, according to tradition, was somewhat of an artist as well as a physician, takes great care to place this picture in the national portrait gallery of men saved by sovereign grace. Here we have the portrait of a man who called himself the sinner, who may yet be held up as a pattern to saints. I am glad to have the divine sketch of this man, that I may see the bodily form of his devotion. I am gladder still to have his prayer, that we may look into the very soul of his pleading. My heart’s desire this morning is that many here may seek mercy of the Lord as this publican did, and go down to their houses justified. I ask no man to use the same words. Let no man attach a superstitious value to them. Alas, this prayer has been used flippantly, and foolishly, and almost looked upon as a sort of charm! Some have said — “We may live as we like, for we have only to say, ‘God be merciful to me,’ when we are dying, and all will be well.” This is a wicked misuse of gospel truth, yea, it turns it into a lie. If you choose thus to pervert t he grace of the gospel to your own destruction, your blood must be on your own heads. You may not have space given you in which to breathe out even this brief sentence; or if you have, the words may not come from your heart, and so you may die in your sins. I pray you, do not thus presume upon the forbearance -of God. But if with the publican’s heart we can take the publican’s attitude, if with the publican’s spirit we can use the publican’s words, then there will follow a gracious acceptance, and we shall go home justified. If such be the case, there will be grand times to-day, for -angels will rejoice over sinners reconciled to God, and made to know hi their own souls the boundless mercy of the Lord.

In preaching upon the text, I shall endeavour to bring out its innermost spirit. May we be taught of the Spirit, so that we may learn four lessons from it!

I. The first is this — THE FACT OF SINNERSHIP is NO REASON FOR DESPAIR. You need none of you say, •’ I am guilty, and therefore I may not approach to God; I am so greatly guilty that it would be too daring a thing for me to ask for mercy.” Dismiss such thoughts at once. My text and a thousand other arguments forbid despair.

For, first, this man who was a sinner “yet dared to approach the Lord. According to our version, he said,” God be merciful to me a sinner,’’ but a more accurate rendering is that which the Revised Veryion puts in the margin — “the sinner.” “He meant to say that he was emphatically the sinner. The Pharisee yonder was the saint of his age: but this publican who stood afar off from the holy place was the sinner. If there was not another sinner in the world, he was one; and in a world of sinners he was a prominent offender — the sinner of sinners. Emphatically he applies to himself the guilty name. He takes the chief place in condemnation, and yet he cries, ‘’God be merciful to me the sinner.” Now if you know yourself to be a sinner, you may plead with .God; but if you mourn that you are not only a sinner, but the sinner with the definite article, the sinner above all others, you may still hope in the mercy of the Lord. The worst, the most profane, the most horrible of sinners may venture, as this man did, to approach the God of mercy. I know that it looks like a daring action; therefore you mnat do it by faith. On any other footing but that of faith in the mercy of God, you who are a sinner may not dare to approach the Lord lest you be found guilty of presumption. But with your eye on mercy you may be bravely trustful. Believe in the great mercy of God, and though your sins be abundant, you will find that the Lord will abundantly pardon; though they blot your character, the Lord will blot them out; though they be red like crimson, yet the precious blood of Jesus will make you whiter than snow.

This story of the Pharisee and the publican is intended as an encouraging example to you. If this man who was tlw sinner found forgiveness, so also shall you if you seek it in the same way. One sinner has speeded so well, why should not you? Gome and try for yourself, and see if the Lord dors not prove in your case that his ineicy endureth for ever.

Next, remember that you may not only find encouragement inp looking at the sinner who sought his God, but in the God whom he sought. Sinner, there is great mercy in the heart of God. How often did that verse ring out as a chorus in the temple song —

“For his mercy shall endure
Ever faithful, ever sure”!

Mercy is a specially glorious attribute of Jehovah, the living God, He is “the Lord God, merciful and gracious.” He is “slow to anger and plenteous in mercy.” Do you not see how this should cheer you? Sinners are needful if mercy is to be indulged. How can the Lord display his mercy except to the guilty? Goodness is for creatures, but mercy is for sinners. Towards unfallen creatures there may be love, but there cannot be mercy. Angels are not fit recipients of mercy; they do not require it, for they have not transgressed. Mercy coine* into exercise alter law has been broken; not till then. Among the attributes it is the last which found scope for itself. So to spe;ik, it is the Benjamin, and the darling attribute of God: “He delighteth in mercy.” Only to a sinner can God be merciful. Hearest thou this, thou sinner? Be sure that thou catch at it! It there be boundless mercy in the heart of God, and it can only exercise itself towards the guilty, then thou art the man to have it, for thou art a guilty one. Come, then, and let his mercy wrap thee about like a garment this* day, and cover all thy shame. Does not God’s delight in mercy prove that sinnership is no reason for despair?

•Moreover, the conception of salvation implies hope for sinners. That salvation which we preach to you every day is glad tidings for the guilty. Salvation by grace implies that men are guilty. Salvation ineaus not the reward of the righteous, but the cleansing of the unrighteous. Salvation is meant for the lost, the ruined, the undone; and the blessings which it brings of pardoning mercy and cleansing grace must be intended for the guilty and polluted. “The whole need not a physician;” the physician has his eye upon the sick. Alms are for the poor, bread is for the hungry, pardon is for the guilty. 0 you that are guilty, you are the men that mercy seeks after! You were in God’s eye when he sent his Son into the world to save sinners. From the very first inception of redemption to the completion, of it the eyes of the ijreat God were set on the guilty, and not on the deserving. The very name of Jesus tells us that he shall save his people from their sins.

Let me further say that, inasmuch as that salvation of (rod is a great one, it must have been intended to meet great sins. 0 sirs, would Christ have shed the blood of his heart for some trifling, venial sins which your tears could wash away? Think you God would have given his dear Son to die as a mere superfluity? If sin had been a small matter, a little sacrifice would have sufficed. Think you that the divine atonement was made only for small offences? Did Jesus die for little sins, and leave the great ones unatoned? No, the Lord God measured the greatness of our sin, and found it high as heaven, deep as hell, and broad as the infinite, and therefore he gave so great a S iviour. He gave his only begotten Son, an infinite sacrifice, an unmeasurable atonement. With such throes and pangs of death as never can be fully described the Lord Jesus poured out his soul in unknown sufferings, that he might provide a great salvation for the greatest of sinners. See Jesus on the cross, and learn that all manner of sin and of blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men. The fact of salvation, and of a great salvation, ought to drive away the very notion of despair from every heart that hears of it. Salvation, that is for me, for I am lost. A great salvation, that is for me, for I am the greatest of sinners. Oh, hear my word this day! Ic is God’s word of love, and it rings out like a silver bell. 0 my beloved hearers, I weep over you, and yet I feel like Hinging all the time, for I am sent to proclaim salvation from the Lord for the very worst of you.

The gospel is especially, definitely, and distinctly addressed to sinners. Listen to it: “This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief.” “I am not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” “The Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.” The gospel is like a letter directed in a clear and legible hand; and if you will read its direction, you will find that it runs thus: “TO THE SINNER.” 0 sinners, to you is the word of this salvation sent. If you are a sinner, you are the very man for whom the gospel is intended; and I do not mean by this a merely complimentary nominal sinner, but an out-and-out rebel, a transgressor against God and man. 0 sinner, seize upon the gospel with joyful alacrity; and cry unto God for mercy ao once 1

M ‘Twas for sinners that he suffer’d

Agonies unspeakable;
Canst thou doubt thou art a sinner?
If thou canst — then hope, farewell.

But, believing what is written —

* All are guilty ’ — * dead in sin,
Looking to the Crucified One,

Hope shall rise thy soul within.*’

If you will think of it again, there must be hope for sinners, for the great commands of the gospel are most suitable to sinners. Hear, for instance, this word: “Repent ye therefore, and be converted, that your eins may be blotted out” (Acts iii. 19). Who can repent but the guilty? Who can be converted but those who are on the wrong track, and therefore need to be turned? The following text is evidently addressed to those who are good for nothing: “Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: ami let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.” The very word “repent” indicates that it is addressed to those who have sinned; let it beckon you to mercy.

Then you are bidden to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. Now, salvation by faith must be for guilty men; for the way of life foi the innocent is by perseverance in good works. The law saith, “This do, and live.” The gospel talks of salvation by believing, because it is the only way possible for those who have broken the law, and are condemned by it. Salvation is of faith that it might be by grace. Believe and live! Believe and live! Believe and live! This is the jubilee note of the trumpet of free grace. Oh, that you would know the joyful sound, and thus be blessed! Oh, that you that are sinful would hear the call as addiessed to you in particular! You are up to your necks in the mire of sin, but a mighty hand is stretched out to deliver you. “Repent ye, and believe the gospel.”

If you want any other argument — and I hope you do nut — I would put it thus: great sinners have been saved. All sorts of sinners are being saved to-day. What wonders some of us have seen! What wonders have been wrought in this Tabernacle! A man was heard at a prayer-meeting pleading in louder tones than usual; he was a sailor, and his voice was pitched to the tune of the roaring billows. A lady whispered

to her friend, “Is that Captain F?” “Yes, said the other,” why

do you ask? “” Because,” said she, “the last time I heard that voice its swearing made my blood run cold; the man’s oaths were beyond measure terrible. Can it be the same man? “Some one observed, “Go and ask him.” The lady timidly said, “Are you the same Captain

F that I heard swearing in the street, outside my house?”

“Well,” he said, “I am the same person, and yet, thank God, I am not the same!” 0 brethren, such were some of us; but we are washed, but we are sanctified! Wonders of grace to God belong. I was reading the other day a story of an old shepherd who had never attended a place of worship; but when he had grown grey, and was near to die, he was drawn by curiosity into the Methodist chapel, and all was new to him. Hard-hearted old fellow as he was, he was noticed to shed tears during -the sermon. He had obtained a glimpse of hope. He saw that there was mercy even for him. He laid hold on eternal life at once. The surprise was great when he was seen at the chapel, and greater still when, on the Monday night, he was seen at r,he prayer-meeting; yes, and heard at the prayer-meeting, for he fell down on his knees and praised God that he had found mercy. Do you wonder that the Methodists shouted, “Bless the Lord “? Wherever Christ is preached the most wicked of men and women are made to sit at. the Saviour’s leet, “clothed, and in their right minds.” My hearer, why should it not be so with you? At auy rate, we have full proof of the fact that sinnership is no reason for despair.

II. I must now advance to my second observation: A SENSE OF

SINNERSHIP CONFERS NO RIGHT TO MERCY. You will Wonder why I

mention this self-evident truth; but I must mention it because of a common error which does great mischief. This man was very sensible of his sin insomuch that he called himself THB SINNER; but he did not urge his sense of sin as any reason why he should find mercy. There is an ingenuity in the heart of man, nothing less than devilish, by which he will, if he can, turn the gospel itself into a yoke of bondage. If we preach to sinners that they may come to Christ in all their anguish and misery, one cries — “I do not feel myself to be a sinner as I ought to feel it. I have not felt those convictions of which you speak, and, therefore, I cannot come to Jesus.” This is a horrible twist of our meaning. We never meant to insinuate that convictions and doubts and despondencies conferred upon men a claim to mercy, and were necessary preparations for grace. I want you, therefore, to learn that a sense of sin gives no man a right to grace.

If a deep sense of sin entitled men to mercy, it would be a turning oj this parable upsile down. Do you drem that this publican was, after all, a Pharisee differently dressed? Do you imagine that he really meant to plead, *’ God be merciful to me because I am humble and lowly “? Did he say in his heart, “Lord, have mercy upon me because I am not a Pharisee, and am deeply despondent on account of my evil ways”? This would prove that he was in his heart of hearts a Pharisee. If you make a righteousness out of your feelings, you are just as much out of the true way as if you made a righteousness out of your works. Whether it be work or feeling, anything which is relied upon as a claim for grace is an antichrist. You are no more to be saved because of your conscious miseries than because of your conscious merits; there is no virtue either in the one or in the other. If you make a Saviour of convictions you will be lost as surely as if you made a Saviour out of ceremonies. The publican trusted in divine mercy and not in his own convictions, and you must do the same.

To imagine that an awful sense of sin constituted a claim upon mercy would be like giving a premium to great sin. Certain seekers thinly “I have never been a drunkard, or a swearer, or unchaste, and I almost wish I had been, that I might feel myself to be the chief of sinners, and so might come to Jesus.” Do not wish anything so atrocious; there is no good in sin in any shape or way. Thank God if you have been kept from the grosser forms of vice, Do not imagine that repentance is easier when sin is grosser: the reverse is true. Do be lieve that there is no advantage in having been a horrible offender. You have sins enough; to be worse would not be better. If good works do not help you, certainly bad works would not. You that have been moral and excellent should cry for mercy, and not be so silly as to dream that greater sins would help you to readier repentance. Come as you are, and if your heart be hard, confess it as one of your greatest sins. A deeper sense of sin would not entitle you to the mercy of God; you can have no title to mercy but that which mercy gives you. Could your tears for ever flow, could your grief no respite know, you would have no claim upon the sovereign grace of God, who will have mercy on whom he will have mercy.

Then, der friends, remember, if we begin to preach to sinners that.

they must have a certain sense of sin and a certain measure of conviction, such teaching would turn the sinner away from God in Christ to himsef. The man begins at once to say, “Have I a broken heart? Do J feel the burden of sin?” This is only another Ibrni of looking to self. Man must not look to himself to find reasons for God’s grace. The remedy does not lie in the seat of the disease; it lies in the physician’s hand. A sense of bin is not a claim, but a gift of that blessed Saviour who is exalted on hijjh to give repentance and remission of sins. Beware of an teaching which makes you l«.ok to yourself for help, but cling to that doctrine which makes you look alone to Christ. Whether you know it or not, you are a lost, ruined sinner, only fit to be cast into the flames of hell for ever. Confess this, but do not ask to be driven mad by a sense of it. Come to Jesus just as you are, and do not wait for a preparation made out of your own miseries. Look (o Jesus, and to him alone.

If we fall into the notion that a certain sense of sin has a claim upon God, we shall be putting salvation upon other grounds than tttat of faith, and that must be a false ground. Now, the ground of salvation is — “God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life.” A simple faith in the Lord Jesus Christ is the way of salvation; but to say, •’ I shall be saved because I am horribly convicted of sin, and diiven to desperation,” is not to speak like the gospel, but to rave out of the pride of an unbelieving heart. The gospel is that you believe in Christ Jesus; that you get right out of yourself, and depend alone in him. Do you say, “I feel so guilty”? You are certainly guilty, whether you feel it or not; and you are far more guilty than you have any idea of. Coine to Christ because you are guilty, not because you have been prepared to come by looking at your guilt. Trust nothing of your own, not even your serie of need. A man may have a sense of disease a long time before he will get healing out of it. The looking-glass of conviction reveals the spots on our face, but it cannot wash them away. You cannot fill your hands by putting them into your empty pocket and feeling how empty it is; it would be far wiser to hold them our, and receive the gold which your friend so freely gives you. •’ God be merciful to me a sinner “is the right way to put it, and not, “God be merciful to me because I sufficiently feel my sinnership, and most fittingly bewail it.”

III. My third observation is this: THE KNOWLEDGE OF THEIK SINNERSHIP GUIDES MEN TO RIGHT ACTION. When a man has learned of the Holy Spirit that he is a sinner, then by a kind of instinct of the new life, he does the right thing in the right way. This publican had not often been to the temple, and had not learned the orthodox way of behaving. It is easy to learn how we all do it nowadays in our temples — take off your hat, Jr.lc? it ;n front of your face, and read the maker’s name and address. Then sit down, and at the proper moment, bend forward and cover your eyes, and, furthermore, stand up when the rest of the congregation do so. People get to do this just as if they were wound up by machinery; yet they do not pray when they are supposed to be praving, nor bow before the Lord when worship is being offered. This publican is out of rank; he does not follow the rubric; lie has gestures of his own. First, instead of coming forward he stands afar off. He does not dare to come where that most respects able person, the Pharisee, is displaying himself, for he does not feel’ worthy. He leaves space between himself and God, an opening for a Mediator, room for an Advocate, place for an Intercessor to interpose between himself and the throne of the Most Higfi. Wise man thus to stand afar off; for by this means he could safely draw near in the person of Jesus. Furthermore, he would not lift so much as his eyes unto heaven. It seems natural to lift up your hands in prayer, but he would not even lift his eyes. The uplifting of the eyes is very proper, is it not? But it was still more proper for “the sinner “not to lift his eyes. His downcast eyes meant much. Our Lord does not say that he could not lift up his eyes, but he would not. He could look up, for he did in spirit look up ashe cried,” God be merciful to me “; but he would not, because it seemed indecorous for eyes like his to peer into the heaven where dwells the holy God. In the meanwhile, the penitent publican kept smiting upon his breast. The original does not say that he smote upon his breast once, but he smote and smote again. It was a continuousact. He seemed to say — Oh, this wicked heart! He would smite it. Again and again he expressed his intense grief by this Oriental gesture, for he did not know how else to set forth his sorrow. His heart had sinned, and he smote it; his eyts had led him astray, and he made them look down to the earth; and as he himself had sinned by living far off from God, he banished himself far from the manifest Presence. Every gesture and posture is significant, and yet all came spontaneously. He had no book of directions how DO behave himself in the house of God; his sincerity guided him. If you want to know how to behave yourselves as penitents, be penitents. The best rubrics of worship are those which are written on broken hearts. I have heard of a minister who was said to cry in the wrong place in his sermons,. and it was found afterwards that he had written in the margin of hismanuscript, u Weep here.” His audience could not see the reason for his artificial moisture. It must have had a ludicrous effect. In religion? everything artificial is ridiculous, or worse; but grace in the heart is the best “master of the ceremonies.” He who prays aright with his heart will not much err with foot, and hand, and head. If thou wouldst know how to approach God, confess thyseU a sinner, and so take thy true place before the God of truth: throw thyself on divine mercy, and thus place God in his true position as thy Judge and Lord.

Observe that this man, even under the weight of conscious sin, was led aright; for he went straight away to God. A sense of sin without faith drives us from God, but a sense of sin with faith draws us immediately to God. He came to God alone; he felt that it would be of no avail to confess his fault to a mortal, or to look for absolution from man. He did not resort to the priest of the temple, but to the God of the temple. He did not ask to speak to the good and learned man, the Pharisee, who stood on the same floor with him. His enquiry-room wa*» the secret of his own soul, and he enquired of the Lord. He ran straight away to God, who alone was able to help; and when he opened his mouth, it was “God be merciful to me a sinner.” That is what you have f,o do, my dear hearer, if you would be saved: you must go distinctly and immediately to God in Christ Jesus. Forget all things else, and suy, with the returning prodigal, ‘’ I will arise and go to my father.” None but God can help us out of our low estate. No mercy out the mercy of God can serve our turn, and none can give us that mercy but the God of mercy. Let every broken-down sinner come to his God, against whom he has offended.

The publican did not look round on his fellow- worshippers, he waa too much absorbed in his own grief of heart. Specially is it noteworthy that he had no remarks to make upon the Pharisee. He did not denounce the pride, or the hypocrisy, or the hard-heartedness of the prolessor who so offensively looked down upon him. He did not return contempt for contempt, as we are all too apt to do. No; he dealt with the Lord alone in the deep sincerity of his own heart; and it was well. My hearer, when will you do the same? When will you cease to censure others, and reserve your severity for yourself, your critical observationa for vour own conduct?

When he came to God it was with a fall confession of sin — “God b& merciful to me a sinner.” His very eyes and hands joined with his lips in acknowledging his iniquities. His prayer was wet with the dews of repentance. He poured out his heart before God in the most free and artless manner: his prayer came from the same fountain as that of the prodigal when he said, “Father, I have sinned,” and that of David when he cried, “Against thee, thee only have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight.” That is the best praying which comes from the lowliest heart.

Then he appealed to mercy only. This was wise*. See how rightly he was guided. What had he to do with justice, since it could only condemn and destroy him? Like a naked sword, it threatens to sheathe itself in my heart; how can I appeal to justice? Neither power nor wisdom, nor any other quality of the great God could be resorted to; only mercy stretched out her wing. The prayer, u God be merciful,” is the only prayer that you can pray who have been greatly guilty. If all your lives you have spurned your Saviour, all you can now do is to cast yourselves upon the mercy of God.

The original Greek permits us to see that this man had an eye to the propitiation. I do not say that he fully understood the doctrine of atonement; but still his prayer was, “God be propitiated to me the sinner.” He had seen the morning and the evening lamb, and he had heard of the sin-offering; and though he might not have known all about atonement, expiation, and substitution, yet as far as he did know, his eye was turned that way. “0 God, be propitiated, accept a sacrifice, and pardon me.” If you know your sin, you will be wise to plead the propitiation which God hath set forth for human sin. May the Spirit of God constrain you to trust in Jesus now! The new year is already gliding away; its second month is slipping from under us; how many months are to go before you, a guilty sinner, will come and ask mercy of God, the infinitely-gracious One? Great God, let this day be the day of thy power!

IV. I now close with my last head, which is this — THE BELIEVING CONFESSION OF SINNERSHIP is THE WAY OF PEACE. “God be merciful to me a sinner,” was the prayer, but what was the answer? Listen to this: “This man went down to his house justified rather than the other.”

In a few sentences let me sketch this man’s progress. He came to God only as a sinner, nakedly as a sinner. Observe, he did not say, ‘* God be merciful to me a penitent sinner.” He was a penitent sinner, but he did not plead his penitence; and if you are ever so penitent and convinced of sin, do not mention it as an argument, lest you be accused of self-righteousness. Come as you are, as a sinner, and as ‘nothing else. Exhibit your wounds. Bring your spiritual poverty before God, and not your supposed wealth. If you have a single penny of your own, get rid of it. Perfect poverty alone will discharge you from your bankruptcy. If you have a mouldy crust in the cupboard of self-righteousness, no bread from heaven will be yours. You must be nothing and nobody if God is to be your all in all. This man does not £ry, “God be merciful to me the penitent “; but, “be merciful to ‘me the sinner.” He does not even £ay, “God be merciful to me the reformed sinner.” I have no doubt he did reform, and give up his evil ways, but he does not plead that reformation. Reformation will not take away your sinnership; therefore do not speak as if it could do so. What you are to be will make no atonement for what you have been. Gome, therefore, simply as a sinner, not as a changed and improved sinner. Do not come because you are washed, but to be washed! The publican does not say, “God be merciful to me a praying sinner.” He was praying, but he does not mention it as a plea, for he thought very little of his own prayers. Do not plead your prayers; you might as well plead your sins. God knows that your prayers have sin in them. Why, man, your very tears of repentance need washing! When your supplications are most sincere, what are they but the wailings of a condemned creature who cannot give a single reason why he should not be executed? Feel and own that you deserve condemnation, and come to God as a sinner. Off with your paltry finery, I mean your “filthy rags.” Do not trick yourself out in the weeds of your own repentance, much less in the fig-leaves of your own resolutions, but come to God in Christ Jesus in all the nakedness of your sin, and everlasting mercy will cover both you and your sins.

Next, notice that this man did nothing but appeal to mercy: he said, “God be merciful to me.” He did not attempt to excuse himself, and say, “Lord, I could not help it. Lord, I was not worse than other publicans. Lord, I was a public servant, and only did what every other tax-collector did.” No, no, he is too honest to forge excuses. He is a sinner, and he owns it. If the Lord should condemn him out of his own mouth, and send him to hell, he cannot help it; his sin is too evident to be denied. He lays his head on the block, and humbly pleads, “God be merciful to me a sinner.” Neither does this publican offer any promises of future amendment as a set-off. He do as not sy, “Lord, be merciful for the past, and I will be better in the future.” Nothing of the sort; “Be merciful to me the sinner” is his one and only request. So would I have you cry, 0 God, be merciful to me! Although I am even now condemned, and deserved to be hopelessly damned by thy justice, yet have mercy upon me, have mercy on me aow.” That is the way to pi’ay; and if you pray in that way God will hear you. He does not otter to pat, anything; he does not propose any form of self-paid ransom; lie does not present to God his tears, his abstinence, his self- lenial, his generosity to the church, his liberality to the poor, or anything else; but simply begs the Lord to be propitiated, and to be merciful to him because of the great sacrifice. Oh, th;it all of you would at once pray in this fashion!

Now, I want to cheer your hearts by noticing that, this man, throngn. this prayer, and through this confession of sin, experienced a remarkable degree of acceptance. He had come up to the temple condemned; “he went down to his house justified.” A complete change, a sudden change, a happy change was wrought upon him. Heavy heart and downcast eye were exchanged for glad heart and hopeful outlook. He came into that temple with trembling, he left it with rejoicing. I am sure his wife noticed the difference. What had come over him? The children began to observe it also. Poor father used to sit alone, and heave many a sigh; but all of a sudden he is so happy; he even sing a psalms o! David out of the latter end of the hook. The change was very marked. Before dinner he says, “• Children, we innsr. give God thank-* before we eat this meal.” Thelr gather round and wonder at dear father’s happy face as he blesses the God of Israel. IL^ says to his friends, “Brethren, 1 am comforted; God has had mercy upon me. I went to the temple guilty, but I have returned justified. My sins are all forgiven me. God has accepted a propitiation on my behalf.” What good would come of such a happy testimony! This was a very sudden change, was it not? It was wrought in a moment. The process of spiritual quickening is not a matter of hours, but of a single second of time. The processes which lead up to it, and spring out of it, are lon-j, but the actual reception of life must be instantaneous. Not in every case would you be able to put your finger upon that second of time, but the passage from death unto life must be instantaneous. There must be a moment in which the man is dead, and another moment in which he is alive. I grant you, life would be very feeble at first; still, there must be a time in which it was not there at all; and again, there must have been an instant in which it begins. There can be no middle condition between dead and alive. Yet a man may not know when the change took place. If you were going to the Cape you might cross the equator at dead of ni<-ht, and know nothing about it, but still you would cross it. Some poor landsmen have thought that they would see a blue line right across the waves; ‘lie it is not perceptible, although it is truly there; the equator is quite as real as it we could see a golden belt around the glohe. Dear friends, I want you to cross the line this morning! Oh, thp.t you might go out of this house saying, Glory, glory, hallelujah! God has had mercy upon me.” Though you feel this morning that you would not give twopence for your life, yet if you come to God through Jesus Christ you shall go away blessing liod not only that you are alive, but that you shall live for ever, happy in his love.

Once more, this man went away with a witness such as I pray we

may all have. ‘• He was justified.” “Bur,,” you add, “how do I know

he was justified?” Listen to these words. Our blessed Lord says,

’ “/ tell, you that this man went down to his house justified rather than the other.” “/tell you.” Jesus, our Lord, can tell. Into our ear he tells it. He tells it to God and the holy angels, and he tells it to the man himself. The man who has cried from his heart “God be merciful to me a sinner” is a justified man. When he stood and confessed his sin, and cast himself wholly upon the divine mercy, that man was unburdened, so that he went down to his house justified. We are all going down to our houses. Oh, that we might go down justified! You are going home; I want you to go home to God, who is the true home of the soul. “He went ‘down to his house justified,” and why should not you do the same? Perhaps, my hearer, you have never been to the Tabernacle before. Possibly, my friend, you are one of those gentlemen who spend Sunday mornings in their shirt-sleeves at home reading the weekly paper. You have come here this morning quite by accident. Blessed be God! I hope you will go home “justified.” The Lord grant it! Perhaps you always come here, and have occupied a seat ever since the Tabernacle was built, and yet you have never found mercy. Oh, that you might find mercy this morning! Let us seek this blessing. Come with me to Jesus. I will lead the way; I pray you say with me this morning — ‘• God be merciful to me the sinner.” Rest on the great propitiation: trust in Jesus Christ’s aooning blood. Cast yourself upon the Saviour’s love, and you shall go down to your house justified. Is it a poor cottage? Is it less than that, a back room up three pairs of stairs? Are you very, very poor, and have you been out of work for a long time? Never mind. God knows all. Seek you his face. It will be a happy Sunday for you. if you this day begin a new life by faith in Jesus. You shall have joy, peace, and happiness if you seek and find mercy from the great Father. I think I see you trudging home, having left your load behind you, but compassed about with songs of praise unto our God. So be it. Amen arid Amen.

OF SCRIPT u HE READ BEFORE SERMON — Psalms li. and xxxii.

f k |to Dark Street ftolpit.

CONFESSION AND ABSOLUTION.

a J^ennon

DELIVERED ON SABBATH MORNING, OCTOBER 3, 1858, BT TH»

REV. C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE MUSIC HALL, ROYAL SURREY GARDENS.

“And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto hearen, but smote «pon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner.” — Luke xviii. 13.

THE heroes of our Saviour’s stories are most of them selected to illustrate traits of character entirely dissimilar to their general reputation. What would you think of a moral writer of our own day, should he endeavour in a work of fiction, to set before us the gentle virtue of benevolence by the example of a Sepoy? And yet. Jesus Christ has given us one of the finest examples of charity in the case of a Samaritan. To the Jews, a Samaritan was as proverbial lor his bitter animosity against their nation, as the Sepoy is among us for his treacherous cruelty, and as much an object of contempt and hatred; but Jesus Christ, nevertheless, chose his hero from the Samaritans, that there should be nothing adventitious to adorn him, but that all the adorning might be given to the grace of charity. Thus, too, in the present instance, our Saviour, being desirous of setting before us the necessity of humiliation in prayer, has not selected some distinguished saint who was famed for his humility, but he has chosen a tax-gatherer, probably one of the most extortionate of his class, for the Pharisee seems to hint as much; and I doubt not he cast his eye askance at this publican, when he observed, witk self-gratulation, “God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican.” Still, our i.ord, in order that we might ee that there was nothing to predispose in the person, but that the acceptance of the prayer might stand out, set even in a brighter light by the black foil of the publican’s character, has selected this man to be the pattern and model of one who *hou (1 offer an acceptable prayer unto God. Note that, and you will not be surprised to find the same characteristic exhibited very frequently in the parables of our Lord Jesus Christ. As for this publican, we know but little of his previous career, but we may, without perilling any serious error, conjecture somewhat near the truth. He may have been, and doubtless he was a Jew, piously brought up and religiously trained, but, perhaps like Levi, he ran away from his parents, and finding no other trade exactly suited to his vicious taste, he became one of that corrupt class irho collected the “Roman taxes, and, ashamed to be known as Levi any longer, he changed his name to Matthew, lest anyone should recognize in the degraded cast of the publican, the man whose parents feared God, and bowed their knees before Jehovah. It may be that this publican had in his youth forsaken the ways of his fathers, and given himself up to lasciviousness, and then found this unworthy occupation to be most accordant with his vicious spirit. We cannot tell how often lie had ground the faces of the poor, or how many curses had been spilled upon his Iupad wtier he had broken into the heritage of the widow, and had robbed the friendless, unprotected orphan. The Roman government gave a publican far greater power than he ought to possess, and he was never slow to use the advantage for his own enrichmeut. Probably half of all he had was a robbery, if not more, for Zaccheus seen s to hint as much in his own instance, when he says —” Behold, Lord,

No. 216 43 the half of my goods I give to the poor, and if I have gotten anything of any maip by false accusation, I restore it unto him four-fold.” It was not often that thispuhlican troubled the temple; the priests very seldom saw him coming with a sacrifice; it would have been an abomination, and he did not bring it. But so it happened, that the Spirit of the Lord met with the publican; and had made him think upon his ways, and their peculiar blackness: he was full of trouble, but he kept it to himself, pent up in his own bosom; he could scarcely rest at night, nor go* about his business by day, for day and night the hand of God was heavy upon him. At last, unable to endure his misery any longer, he thought of that house of God at Zion, and of the sacrifice that was daily offered there. “To whom, or where should I go,” said he, “but to God? — and where can I hope to find mercy, but where the sacrifice is offered?” No sooner said than done. He went; Ids unaccustomed ^eet bent their steps to the sanctuary, but he is ashamed to enter. Yon Pharisee, holy man as he appeared to be, goes up unblushingiy to the court of the Israelites; he goes as near as he dare to the very precincts, within which the priesthood alone might stand; and he prays with boastful language. But as for the publican, he choose* out for himself some secluded corner where he shall neither be seen nor heard, and now he is about to pray, not with uplifted hands as yonder Pharisee, not with eves turned up to heaven with a sanctimonious gaze of hypocrisy, but fixing his eyes upon the ground, the hot tears streaming from them, not daring to lift them up to heaven. At last his stifled feelings found utterance; yet that utterance was a groan, a short prayer that must all be comprehended in the compass of a sigh: “God be merciful to me a sinner.” It is done; he is heard; the angel of mercy registers his pardon, his conscience is at peace; he goes down to his house a happy man, justified rather than the Pharisee, and rejoicing in the justification that the Lord had given to him. Well then, my business this morning is to invite, to urge, to beseech you to do what the publican did, that you may receive what he obtained. There are two particulars upon which I shall endeavour to speak solemnly and earnestly: the first is confession; the second is absolution.

I. Brethren, let us imitate the publican, first of all in his CONFESSION. There has been a great deal of public excitement during the last few weeks and monthsabout the confessional. As for that matter, it is perhaps a mercy that the outward and visible sign of Popery in the Church of England has discovered to its sincere friends the inward and spiritual evil which had long been lurking there. We need not imagine that the confessional, or priestcraft, of which it is merely an offshoot, in the Church of England is any novelty: it has long been there; those of us who are outside her borders have long observed and mourned over it; but now we congratulate ourselves on the prospect that the Church of England herself will be compelled to discover her own evils; and we hope that God may give her grace and strength to cut the cancer out of her own breast before she shall cease to be a Protestant Church, and God shall cast her away as an abhorred thing. This morning, however, I have nothing to do with the confessional. Silly women may go on confessing as long as they like, and foolish husbands may trust their wives if they please to such men as those. Let those that are fools show it; let those that have no sense do as they please about it; but as for myself, I should take the greatest care that neither I nor mine have ought to do with such things-Leaving that, however, we come to personal matters, endeavouring to learn, even from the errors of others, how to act rightly ourselves.

Note the publican’s confession; to whom was it presented? “God be merciful top me a sinner.” Did the publican ever think about going to the priest to ask for mercy, and confessing his sins? The thought may have crossed his mind, but his sin was too great a weight upon his conscience to be relieved in any such way, so fie very soon dismissed the idea. “No,” saith he, “I feel that my sin is of such a character that none but God can take it away; and even if it were right for me togo and make the confession to my fellow creature, yet I should think it must be utterly unavailing in my case, for my disease is of such a nature, that none but an Almighty Physician ever can remove it.” So he directs his confession and hi* prayer to one place, and to one alone — “God be merciful to me a sinner.” And you will note in this confession to God, that it was secret: all that you can hear of his confession is just that one word — “a sinner.” Do you suppose that was all he confessed? No, beloved, I believe that long before this, the publican had made a confession of all his sins privately, upon his knees in his own house before God. But now, in God’s house, all he has to say tor man to hear, is —” I am a sinner

And 1 counsel you, if ever you make a confession before man, let it be a general one but never a particular one. You ought to confess often to your fellow creatures, that you have been a sinner, but to tell to any man in what respect you have been a sinner, is but to sin over again, and to help your fellow creature to transgress. How filthy must be the soul of that priest who makes his ear a common sewer tor the filth of other men’s hearts. I cannot imagine even the devil to be more depraved, than the man who spends his time in sitting with his ear against the lip» of men and women, who, if they do truly confess, must make him an adept in every vice, and school him in iniquities that he otherwise never could have known. Oh, I charge you never pollute your fellow creature; keep your sin to yourself, and to your God; He cannot be polluted by your iniquity; make a plain and full confession of it before him; but to your fellow creature, add nothing to the general confession — “I am a sinner!”

This confession which he made before God, was spontaneous. There was no question put to this man as to whether he were a sinner or no; as to whether he had broken the seventh commandment, or the eighth, or the ninth, or the tenth; no, his heart was full of penitence, and it melted out in this breathing — “God be merciful to me a sinner.” They tell us that some people never can make a full confession, except a priest helps them by questions. My dear friends, the very excellence of penitence is lost, and its spell broken, if there be a question asked: the confession is not true and real unless it be spontaneous. The man cannot have felt the weight of sin, who wants somebody to tell him what his sins are. Can you imagine any man with a burden on his back, who, before he groaned under it, wanted to be told that he had got one there? Surely not. The man groans under it, and he does not want to be told — “There il is on your back,” he knows it is there. And if, by the questioning of a priest, a full and thorough confession could be drawn from any man or woman, it would be totally useless, totally vain before God, because it is not spontaneous. We must confess our sins, because we cannot help confessing them; it must come out, because we cannot keep it in; like fire in the bones, it seems as if it would melt our very spirits, unless we gave vent to the groaning of our confession before the throne of God. See this publican; you cannot hear the abject full confession that he makes; ail that you can hear is his simple acknowledgement that he is a sinner; but that comes spontaneously from his lips; God himself has not to ask him the quesstionr but he comes before the throne, and freely surrenders himself up to the hands of Almighty Justice, confessing that he is a rebel and a sinner. That is the first thing we have to note in his confession — that he made it to God secretly and spontaneously; and all he said openly was that he was ‘• a sinner.”

Again: what did he confer? He confessed, as our text tells us, that he was a sinner. Now, how suitable is this prayer for us! For is there a lip here present that this confession will not suit — “God be merciful to me a sinner?” Do you say, — “the prayer will suit the harlot, when, after a life of sin, rottenness is in her bones, and she is dying in despair — that prayer suits her lips?” Ay, but my friendr it will suit thv lips” and mine too. If thou icnowest thine heart, and I know mine,, the prayer that will suit her will suit us also. You have never committed the sins which the Pharisee disowned; you have neither been extortionate, nor unjust, nor an adulterer; you have never been even as the publican; but nevertheless the word “sinner” will still apply to you; and you will feel it to be so if you are in a right condition. Remember how much you have sinned against light. It is true the harlot hath sinned more openly than you. but had she such light as you have had? Do you think she had such an early education and such training as you have received? Did she ever receive such checkings of conscience and such guarding* of providence, as those which have watched over your career? This much I must confess for myself — I do, and must feel a peculiar heinousness in my own sin, for I sin against light, against conscience, and more, against the love of God received, and against the mercy of God promised. Come forward, thou greatest among saints, and answer this question, — dost not this prayer suit thee? I hear thee answer, without one moment’s pause — “Ay, it suits me now; and until I die. my quivering lips must often repeat the petition, ‘Lord have mercy upon me a sinner.’ “Men and brethren, 1 beseech you use this prayer to-day, for it must suit you all. Merchant, hast thou no sins of business to confess? Woman, hast thou no household sins to acknowledge? C....d of many prayers, hast thou no offence against father and mother to confess? Have we” loved the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our strength; and have we each loved our tu ighbour as ourself. Oh, let us close our lips as to any boasting, and when we open them, let these be the first words that escape from them, “I have sinned, •O Lord; I have broken thy commandments; Lord, have mercy upon me a sinner.” But mark, is it not a strange thing that the Holy Spirit should teach a man to plead his sinnership before the throne of God? One would think that when we come before God we should try to talk a little of our virtues. Who would suppose that when a man was asking for mercy he would say of himself, “I am a sinner?” Why surely reason would prompt him to say, “Lord have mercy upon me; there is some good point about me: Lord have mercy upon me; I am not worse than my neighbours: Lord have mercy upon me; I will try to be better.” Is it not against reason, is it not marvellously above reason, that the Holy Spirit should teach a man to urge at the throne of grace, that which seems to be against his plea, the fact that he is a sinner? And yet, dear brethren, if you and I want to be heard, we must come to Christ as sinners. Do not let us attempt to make ourselves better than we are. When we come to God’s throne, let us not for one moment seek to gather any of the false jewels of our pretended virtues; rags are the garments of sinners. Confession is the only music that must come from our lips; “God be merciful to ME — a sinner;” that must be the only character in which I can pray to God. Now, are there not many here who feel that they are sinners, and are groaning, sighing, and lamenting, because the weight of sin lies on their conscience? Brother, I am glad thou feelest thyself to be a sinner, for thou hast the key of the kingdom in thy hands. Thy sense of

sinnership is thy only title to mercy. Come, I beseech thee, just as thou art — thy nakedness is thy only claim on heaven’s wardrobe; thy hunger is thy only claim on heaven’s granaries; thy poverty is thy only claim on heaven’s eternal riches. Come just as thou art, with nothing of thine own, except thy sinfulness, and plead that before the throne — “God be merciful to me a sinner.” This is what this man confessed, that he was a sinner, and he pleaded it, making the burden of his confession to be the matter of his plea before God.

Now again, how does he come? What is the posture that he assumes? The first thing I would have you notice is that he “stood afar off.” What did lie do that for? Was it not because he felt hi :r self a separated man? VVre have often made general confessions in the temple, but there never was a confession accepted, except it was particular, personal, and heartfelt. There were the people gathered together for the accustomed service of worship; they join in a psalm of yraise, but the poor publican stood far away from them. Anon, they unite in the order of prayer, still he could not go near them. No, he was come there for himself, and he must stand by himself. Like the wounded hart that seeks the deepest glades of the forest where it may bleed and die alone in profound solitude, so did this poor publican seem to feel he must be alone. You notice he does not say anything about other people in his prayer. “God be merciful to me,” he says. He does not say “one of a company of sinners,” but “a sinner,” as if there were not another sinner in all the world. Mark this, my hearer, that thou must feel thyself solitary and alone, before thou canst ever pray this prayer acceptably. Has the Lord ever picked thee out in a congregation? Has it seemed to you in this Hall as if there were a great black wall round about you, and you were closed in with the preacher and with your God, and as if every shaft from the preacher’s bow was levelled at yon, and every threatening meant for you, and every solemn upbraiding was an upbraiding for you f If thou hast felt this, I will congratulate thee. No man ever prayed this prayer aright unless he prayed alone; unless lie said “God be merciful to me” as a solitary, lonely sinner. “The publican stood afar off.”

Note the next thing. “He would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven.” That was because he dare not, not because he would not; he would have done it if he dared. How remarkable it is that repentance takes all the daring out of men. We have seen fellows very dare-devils before they were touched by sovereign grace, who have become afterwards, the most trembling and conscientious men with the tenderest conscience that one could imagine. Men who were careless, bragging and defying God, have become as humble as little children, and even afraid to lift their eyes to heaven, though once they sent their oaths and curses there. But why did he not dare to lift his eyes up? It was because he was dejected in his “spirit,” so oppressed and burdened that he could not look up. Is that thy case, my friend, this morning? Are you afraid to pray? Do you feel as if you could not hope

4 It that God would have mercy on you; as if the least gleam of hope was more light than you could possibly bear; as if your eyes were so used to the darkness of doubt and despondency, that even one stolen ray seemed to be too much for your poor weak vision? Ah! well, fear not, for happy shall it be for thee; thou art only following the publican in his sad experience now, and the Lord who helps thee to follow him in the confession, shall help thee to rejoice with him in the absolution.

Note what else he did. He smote upon his breast. He was a good theologian; he was a real doctor of divinity. What did he smite his breast for? Because he knew where the mischief lay — in his breast. He did not smite upon his brow as sor.ie men do when they are perplexed, as if the mistake were in their understanding. Many a man will blame his understanding, while he will not blame his heart, and say, “Well, I have made a mistake; 1 have certainly been doing wrong, but I am a good-hearted fellow at the bottom.” This man knew where the mischief lay, and he smote the right place.

“Here on my heart the burden lies.”

He smote upon his breast as if he were angry with himself. He seemed to say, ‘* Oh I that I could smite thee, my ungrateful heart, the harder, that thou hast loved sin rather than God.” He did not do penance, and yet it was a kind of penance upon himself when he smote his breast again and again, and cried “Alas! alas! woe is me that I should ever have sinned against my God —” God be merciful to a sinner.” Now, can you come to God like this, my dear friend? Oh, let us all draw near to God in this fashion. Thou hast enough, my brother, to make thee stand alone for there have been sins in which thou and I have stood each of u« in solitary guilt. There are iniquities known only to ourselves, which we never told to the partner of our own bosom, not to our own parents or brothers, nor yet to the friend with whom we took sweet counsel. If we have sinned thus alone, let us go to our chambers, and confess alone, the husband apart, and the wife apart, the lather apart, and the child apart. Let us each one wail for himself. Men and brethren, leave off to accuse one another. Cease from the lickerings of your censoriousness, and from the slanders of your envy. Rebuke yourselves and not your fellows, llend your own hearts, and not the reputation of your neighbours. Come, let each man now look to his own case, and not to the case of another; let each cry, •’ Lord, have mercy upon me, as here I stand alone, a sinner.” And hast thou not good reason to cast down thine eyes? Does it not seem sometimes too much for us ever to look to heaven again. We have blasphemed God, some of us, and even imprecated curses on our own limbs and eyes; and when those things come back to our memory we may well be ashamed to look up. Or if we have been preserved from the crime of open blasphemy — how often have you and I forgotten God! how often have we neglected prayer! how have we twoken his Sabbaths and left his Bible unread! Surely these things, as they flash across our memory, might constrain us to feel that we cannot lift up so much as our eyes towards heaven. And as for smiting on our breast, what man is there among us that need not do it? Let us be angry with ourselves, because we have provoked God to be angry with us. Let us be in wrath with the sins that have brought ruin upon our souls; let us drag the traitors out, and put them at once to a summary death; they deserve it well; they have been our ruin; let us be their destruction. He smote upon his breast and said, “God, be merciful unto nie a sinner.”

There is one other feature in this man’s prayer, which you must not overlook. What reason had he to expect that God would have any mercy upon him? The Greek explains more to us than the English does; and the original word here might be translated — “God be propitiated to me a sinner.” 1 here is in the Greek word a distinct reference to the doctrine of atonement. It is not the Unitarian’s prayer — “God be merciful to me;” it is more than that — it is the Christian’s prayer, “God be propitiated towards me, a sinner.” There is, I repeat it, a distinct appeal to the atonement and the mercy-seat in this short prayer. Friend, if we would come before God with our confessions, we must take care that we plead the blood of Christ. There is no hope for a poor sinner apart from the cross of Jesus. We may cry, “God be merciful to me,” but the prayer can never be answeredapart from the victim offered, the Lamb slain from before the foundation oi the world. When thou hast thine eye upon the mercy-seat, take care to havt thine eye upon the cross too. Remember that the cross is, after all, the mercy-seat; that mercy never was enthroned, until she did han-g upon the cross crowned with thorns. If thou wouldst find pardon, go to dark Gethsemane, and see thy Redeemer sweating, in deep anguish, gouts of gore. If thou wouldst have peace of conscience, go to Gabbatha, the pavement, and see thy Saviour’s back flooded with a stream of blood. If thou wouldst have the last best rest to thy conscience, go to Golgotha; see the murdered victim as he hangs upon the cross, with hands and feet and side all pierced, as every wound is gaping wide with misery extreme. There can be no hope for mercy apart from the victim offered — even Jesus Christ the Son of God. Oh, come; let us one and all approach the mercy-seat, and plead the blood. Let us each go and say, “Father, I have sinned; but have mercy upon me, through thy Son.” Come, drunkard, give me thy hand; we will go together. Harlot, give me thy hand too; and let us likewise approach the throne. And you, professing Christians, come ye also, be not ashamed of your company. Let us come before his presence with many tears, none of us accusing our fellows, but each one accusing himself; and let us plead the blood of Jesus Christ, which speaketh peace and pardon to every troubled conscience.

Careless man, I have a word with thee before I have done on this point. You say, “Well, that is a good prayer, certainly, for a m;m who is dying. When a poor fellow has the cholera, and sees black death staring him in the face, or when he i& terrified and thunderstruck in the time of storm, or when he findt himself amidst the terrible confusion and alarm of a perilous catastrophe or a sudden accident, while drawing near to the gates of death, it is only right that he should say. Lord,, have mercy upon me.” Ah, friend, the prayer must be suitable to you then, if you are a dying man; it must be suitable to you, for you know not how near you are to the borders of the grave. Oh, if thou didst but understand the frailty of life, and the slipperiness of that poor prop on which thou art resting, thou wouldst say, “Alas for my soul! if the prayer will suit me dying, it must suit me now; for I am dying, even this day, and know not when I may come to the last gasp.” “Oh,” says one, “I think it will suit a man that has been a very great sinner. pr Correct, my friend, and therefore, if you knew yourself, it would suit you. You are quite correct in saying, that it won’t suit any but great sinners; and if you don’t feel yourself to be a great sinner, I know you will never pray it. But there are some here that feel themselves to be what you ought to feel and know that you are. Such will, constrained by grace, use the prayer with an emphasis this morning, putting a tear upon each letter, and a sigh upon each syllable, as they cry, “God be merciful to me, a sinner.” But mark, my friend; thou mayest smile contemptuously on the man that makes this confession, but he shall go from this house justified, while thou shalt go away still in thy sins, without a hope, without a ray of joy to cheer thy unchastened spirit.

II. Having thus briefly described this confession, I comemore briefly still to notice the ABSOLUTION which God gave. Absolution from the lips of man I do believe is little short ol’ blasphemy. There is in the Prayer Book of the Church of England an absolution which is essentially Popish, which I should think must be almost a verbatim extract from the Romish missal. I do not hesitate to say, that there was never anything more blasphemous printed in Holywell Street, than the absolution that is to be pronounced by a clergyman over a dying man; and it is positively frightful to think that any persons calling themselves Christians should rest easy in a church until they have done their utmost to get that most excellent book thoroughly reformed and revised, and to get the Popery purged out of it» But there is such a thing as absolution, my friends, and the publican received it. “He went to his house justified rather than the other.” The other had nought of peace revealed to his heart; this poor man had all, and he went to his house justified.. It does not say that he went to his house, having eased his mind; that is true, but more: he went to his house “justified.” What does that mean? it so happen* that the Greek word here used is the one which the apostle Paul always employsto set out the great doctrine of the righteousness of Jesus Christ — even the righteousness which is of God by faith. The fact is, that the moment the man prayed the prayer, every sin he had ever done was blotted out of God’s book, so that it did not stand on the record against him; and more, the moment that prayer was heard in heaven, the man was reckoned to be a righteous man. All that Christ did for him was cast about his shoulders to be the robe of his beauty, that moment all the guilt that he had ever committed himself was washed entirely away and lost for ever. When a sinner believes in Christ, his sins positively cease to be, and what is more wonderful they all cease to be, as Kent says in those well known lines —

‘* Here’s pardon for transgressions past,

It matters not how black their cast,

And. O my soul with wonder view,

For sins to come here’s pardon too.”

They are all swept away in one solitary instant; the crimes of many years; extortions, adulteries, or even murder, wiped away in an instant; for you will notice the absolution was instantaneously given. God did not say to the man — “Now you must go and perform some good works, and then I will give you absolution.” Ke did not say as the Pope does, “Now you must swelter awhile in the fires of Purgatory, and then I will let you out.” No, he justified him there and then; the pardon was given as soon as the sin was confessed. “Go, my son, in peace; I have not a charge against thee; thou art a sinner in thine own estimation, but thou art none in mine; I have taken all thy sins away, and cast them into the depth of the sea, and they shall be mentioned against thee no more for ever.” Can you tell what a happy man the publican was, when all in a moment he was changed? If you may reverse the figure used by Milton, he seemed himself to have been a loathsome toad, but the touch of the Father’s mercy made him rise to angelic brightness and delight; and lie went out of that house with his eye upward, no longer afraid. Instead of the groan that was on his heart, he had a song upon his lip. He no longer walked alone; lie sought out the godly and he said, “Come and hear, ye that fear God, and I will tell you what he has done for my soul.” He did not smite upon his breast, but he went home to get down his harp, and play upon the strings, and praise his God. You would not have known that he was the same man, if you had seen him going out; and all that was done in a minute. “But,” says one, “do you think he knew for certain that all his sins were forgiven? Can a man know that?” Certainly he can. And there be some here that can bear witness that this is true. They have known it themselves. The pardon which is sealed in heaven is re-sealed in our own conscience. The mercy which is recorded above is made to shed its light into the darkness ot our hearts. Yes, a man may know on earth that his •ins are forgiven, and may be as sure that he is a pardoned man as he is of his own existence. And now I hear a cry from some one saying, “And may I be pardoned this morning? and may I know that I am pardoned? May I be so pardoned that all shall be forgotten — I who have been a drunkard, a swearer, or what not? May I have all my transgressions washed away? May I be made sure of heaven, and all that in a moment?” Yes, my friend, if thou belie vest in the Lord Jesus Christ, if thou wilt stand where thou art, and just breathe this prayer out, “Lord, have mercy! God be merciful to me a sinner, through the blood of Christ.” I tell thee man, God never did deny that prayer yet; if it came out of honest lips he never shut the gates of mercy on it. It is a solemn litany that shall be used as long as time shall last, and it shall pierce the ears of God as long as there is a sinner to use it Come, be not afraid, I beseech you, use the prayer before you leave this Hall. Stand where you are; endeavour to realize that you are all alone, and if you feel that you are guilty, now let the prayer ascend. Oh, what a marvellous thing, it from the thousands of hearts here present, so many thousand prayers might go up to God! Surely the angels themselves never had such a day in Paradise, as they would have to-day, if every one of us could unfeignedly make that confession. Some are doing it; 1 know they are; God is helping them. And sinner, do you stay away? You, who have most need to come, do you refuse to join with us. Come, brother come. You say you are too vile. No, brother, you cannot be too vile to say, “God be merciful to we” Perhaps you are no viler than we are; at any rate, this we can say — we feel ourselves to be viler than you, and we want you to pray the same prayer that

we have prayed. “Ah,” says one, “I cannot; my heart won’t yield to that; I cannot.” But friend, if God is ready to have mercy upon thee, thine must be a hard heart, if it is not ready to receive his mercy. Spirit of God, breathe on the hard heart, and melt it now! Help the man who feels that carelessness is overcoming him — help him to get rid of it from this hour. You are struggling against it; you are saying, “Would to God I could pray that I could go back to be a boy or a child again, and then I could; but I 1iave got hardened and grown grey in sin, and prayer would be hypocrisy in me. No, brother, no, it would not. If thou canst but cry it from thy heart, I beseech thee say it. Many a man thinks he is a hypocrite, when he is not, and is afraid that lie is not sincere, when his very fear is a proof ot his sincerity. “But,” says one, “I have no redeeming trait in my character at alt.” I am glad you think so; still you may use the prayer, “God be merciful to me.” “But it will be a useless prayer,” says one. My brother, I assure thee, not in my own name, but in the name of God, my Father and your Father, it shall not be a useless prayer. As sure as God is God, him that cometh unto Christ he will in no wise cast out. Come with me now, I beseech thee; tarry no longer; the bowels of God are yearning over thee. Thou art his child, and he will not give thee up. Thou hast run from him these many years, but he has never forgotten thee; thou hast resisted all his warnings until now, and he is almost weary, but still he has said concerning thee, “How shall I make thee as Admah; how shall I set thee as Zeboim? Mine heart is turned within me, my repentings are kindled together.”

“Come humbled sinner, in whose breast

A thousand thoughts revolve;
Come with thy guilt and fear oppressed,
And make this last resolve:

I’ll go to Jesus; though my kin

Hath like a mountain rose,
I know his courts; I’ll enter in,

Whatever may oppose.

Prostrate I’ll lie before his face,

And there my sins confess;
I’ll tell him I’m a wretch undone,

Without his sov’reign grace.”

Go home to your houses: let everyone — preacher, deacon, people, ye of the church, and ye of the world, everyone of you, go home, and ere you feast your bodies, pour out your hearts before God, and let this one cry go up from all our lips, “God be merciful to me a sinner.”

I pause. Bear with me.

I must detain you a few moments. Let us use this prayer as our own now. Oh that it might come up before the Lord at this time as the earnest supplication of every heart in this assembly! I will repeat it, — not as a text, but as a prayer, — as my own prayer; as your prayer. Will each one of you take it personally for himself? Let everyone, I entreat you, who desires to offer the prayer, and can join in it, utter at its close an audible” Amen ’

Let us pray.

“GOD - BE - MERCIFUL - TO - ME - A - SINNER.”

[And the people did with deep solemnity say”] “AMEN.”

P.S. — The preacher hopes that he who *°%ds will feel constrained most solemnly to do likewise.