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<title>Blue Letter Bible: Text Commentaries</title>
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<h4 style="text-align: center">
A Sermon<br>
(No. 58)<br>
Delivered on Sabbath Morning, December 30, 1855, by the<br>
REV. C. H. SPURGEON<br>
At New Park Street Chapel, Southwark.<br>
</h4>
<p class="scripture">
"For the land whither thou goest in to possess it, is not as
the land of Egypt, from whence ye came out, where thou sowedst
thy seed, and wateredst it with thy foot, as a garden of herbs;
but the land whither ye go to possess it, is a land of hills
and valleys, and drinketh water of the rain of heaven; a land
which the Lord thy God careth for; the eyes of the Lord thy God
are always upon it, from the beginning of the year, even unto
the end of the year."— <a onClick="return mV('Deu', 11, '10-12');">Deu 11:10-12</a>
</p>
<p class="indent">
IT HAS generally been considered, that the passage of the
Jordan by the Israelites is typical of death, and that Canaan
is a fitting representation of heaven. We believe that in some
sense it is true, and we do fondly cherish the household words
of those hymns which describe our passing through Jordan's
billows, and landing safe on Canaan's side; but we do think
that the allegory does not hold, and that Jordan is not a fair
exhibition of death, nor the land of Canaan a fair picture of
the sweet land beyond the swelling flood which the Christian
gains after death. For mark you, after the children of Israel
had entered into Canaan, they had to fight with their enemies.
It was a land filled with foes. Every city they entered they
had to take by storm, unless a miracle dismantled it. They were
warriors, even in the land of Canaan, fighting for their own
inheritance; and though each tribe had its lot marked out, yet
they had to conquer the giant Anakim, and encounter terrible
hosts of Canaanites. But when we cross the river of death we
shall have no foes to fight, no enemies to encounter. Heaven is
a place already prepared for us; out of it the evil ones have
long ago been driven; there brethren shall await us with
pleasing faces, kind hands shall clasp ours, and loving words
shall alone be heard. The shout of war shall ne'er be raised by
us in heaven; we shall throw our swords away, and the scabbards
with them. No battles with warriors there, no plains besoaked
with blood, no hills where robbers dwell, no inhabitants with
chariots of iron. It is "a land flowing with milk and honey;"
and it dreams not of the foeman of Canaan of old. We think the
church has lost the beauty of Scripture, in taking Jordan to
mean death, and that a far fuller meaning is the true allegory
to be connected with it. Egypt, as we have lately observed to
you, was typical of the condition of the children of God while
they are in bondage to the law of sin. There they are made to
work unceasingly, without wages or profit, but continually
subject to pains. We said, again, that the coming up out of
Egypt was the type of the deliverance which every one of God's
people enjoys, when by faith he strikes the blood of Jesus on
his lintel and his doorpost, and spiritually eats the paschal
lamb; and we can also tell you now, that the passage through
the wilderness is typical of that state of hoping, and fearing,
and doubting, and wavering, and inconstancy, and distrust,
which we usually experience between the period when we come out
of Egypt, and attain unto the full assurance of faith.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Many of you, my dear hearers, are really come out of Egypt; but
you are still wandering about in the wilderness. "We that have
believed do enter into rest;" but you, though you have eaten of
Jesus, have not so believed on him as to have entered into the
Canaan of rest. You are the Lord's people, but you have not
come into the Canaan of assured faith, confidence, and hope,
where we wrestle no longer with flesh and blood, but with
principalities and powers <i>in the heavenly places</i> in
Christ Jesus—when it is no longer a matter of doubt with
us whether we shall be saved, but we feel that we are saved. I
have known believers who have existed for years almost without
a doubt as to their acceptance. They have enjoyed a sweet and
blessed reliance on Christ; they have come into Canaan; they
have fed on the good old corn of the land; they now "lie
passive in his hand, and know no will but his." They have such
a sweet oneness with their blessed Lord Jesus, that they lay
their head on his breast all day long, and they have scarcely
any nights; they almost always live in days; for though they
have not attained unto his perfect image, they feel themselves
so manifestly in union with himself that they cannot and dare
not doubt. They have entered into rest; they are come into
Canaan. Such is the condition of the child of God, when he has
come to an advanced stage in his experience, when God has so
given him grace upon grace that he can say, "Yea though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil,
for thou art with me: thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."
</p>
<p class="indent">
We will read this passage again; and bear in mind what I
understand it to mean. It sets before the Christian's state,
after he has attained to this faith and confidence in God; when
he is no longer careful about the things of this life, when he
does not water the ground with his foot, but has come to a land
that drinketh in the rain of heaven. "The land whither thou
goest in to possess it,"—the land of high and holy
Christian privilege—"is not as the land of Egypt, from
whence ye came out, where thou sowedst thy seed, and wateredst
it with thy foot, as a garden of herbs; but the land, whither
ye go to possess it, is a land of hills and valleys, and
drinketh water of the rain of heaven; a land which the Lord thy
God careth for: the eyes of the Lord thy God are always upon
it, from the beginning of the year even unto the end of the
year." We shall have this morning to note, first of all, <i>the
difference between the Christian's temporal condition and that
of the Egyptian worldling</i>; and secondly, <i>the special
privilege vouchsafed to those who have entered into
Canaan</i>—that the eyes of the Lord their God are always
upon their land, "from the beginning of the year, even unto the
end of the year."
</p>
<p class="indent">
I. True religion makes a difference not only in a man, but in a
man's condition; it affects not only his heart, but his
state—not only his nature, but his very standing in
society. The Lord thy God cares not only for Israel, but for
Canaan, where Israel dwells. God has not only a regard to the
elect, but to their habitation, and not only so, but to all
their affairs and circumstances. The moment I become a child of
God, not only is my heart changed and my nature renewed, but my
very position becomes different; the very beasts of the field
are in league with me, and the stones thereof are at peace. My
habitation is now guarded by Jehovah; my position in this world
is no longer that of a needy mendicant—I have become a
gentleman-pensioner on the providence of God; my position,
which was that of a bondslave in Egypt, is now become that of
an inheritor in Canaan. In this difference of the condition of
the Christian and the worldling, we shall mark three things.
</p>
<p class="indent">
First, <i>the Christian's temporal condition is different to
that of the worldling</i>; for the worldling looks to secondary
causes, the Christian looks to heaven; he gets his mercies
thence. Read the text, "The land, whither thou goest in to
possess it, is not as the land of Egypt, from whence ye came
out, where thou sowedst thy seed, and wateredst it with thy
foot, as a garden of herbs." The land of Egypt has never had
any rain from heaven; it has been always watered from earthly
sources. At a certain season the river Nile overflowed its
banks, and covered the land; a stock of water was then
accumulated in artificial reservoirs, and afterwards let out in
canals, and allowed to run in little trenches through the
fields. They had to water it as a garden of herbs. All their
dependence was on the nether springs; they looked to the river
Nile as the source of all their plenty, and even worshipped it.
But the land to which you are coming is not watered from a
river; "it drinketh water of the rain of heaven." Your
fertility shall not come from such artificial sources as canals
and trenches; you shall be fed from the water that descends
from heaven! You see how beautifully this pictures a worldling
and a Christian. Look at the worldling; what is his dependence?
It is all upon the water below; he looks only to the water that
flows from the river of this world. "Who will show us any
good?" Some rely upon what they call chance—(a river the
source of which, like the source of the Nile, is never known;)
and though continually disappointed, they still persevere in
trusting to this unknown stream. Others, who are more sensible,
trust to their hard work and honesty; they look to the source
of that river, and they trace it to a fountain of human
erection graced by a statue of labour. Ah! that river may yet
fail you; it may not overflow its banks, and you may be
starved. But, O Christian, what doest thou rely upon? Thy land
"drinketh water of the rain of heaven;" thy mercies come not
from the hand of chance; thy daily bread cometh not so much
from thy industry as from thy heavenly Father's care; thou
seest stamped upon every mercy heaven's own inscription, and
every blessing comes down to thee perfumed with the ointment
and spikenard, and the myrrh of the ivory palaces, whence God
dispenses his bounties. Here is the difference between the
assured Christian and the mere worldling: the one trusts to
natural causes—the other "looks through nature up to
nature's God." and seeth his mercies as coming down fresh from
heaven.
</p>
<p class="indent">
Beloved, let us improve this thought, by showing you the great
value of it. Do you know a man who sees his mercies coming from
heaven, and not from earth? How much sweeter all his mercies
are! There is nothing in the world that tastes as sweet to the
school-boy as that which comes from home. Those who live at the
school may make him ever such good things, but he cares nothing
for anything like that which comes from home. So will the
Christian. All his mercies are sweeter because they are
home-mercies. I love God's favours on earth; for everything I
eat and drink tastes of home. And oh! how sweet to think, "That
bread, my Father's hand moulded; that water, my Father droppeth
out from his hand in the gentle rain." I can see everything
coming from his hand. The land in which I live is not like the
land of Egypt, fed by a river; but it "drinketh water of the
rain of heaven." All my mercies come from above. Don't you
like, beloved, to see the print of your Father's fingers on
every mercy? You have heard of the haddock having the mark of
the thumb of Peter on it! It is a fiction, of course; but I am
sure all the fish that we get out of the sea of providence are
marked by Jesus' fingers. Happy the lot of that man who
receives everything as coming from God, and thanks his Father
for it all! It makes anything sweet, when he knows it comes
from heaven.
</p>
<p class="indent">
This thought, again, has a great tendency to keep us from an
overweening love of the world. If we think that all our mercies
come from heaven, we shall not be so likely to love the world,
as we shall be if we think that they are the natural products
of the soil. The spies went to Eschol, and fetched thence an
immense cluster of the grapes which grew there; but you do not
find that the people said, "These are fine fruits, therefore we
will stay here." No: they saw that the grapes came from Canaan,
and thereupon they said, "Let us go on, and possess them." And
so, when we get rich mercies, if we think they come from the
natural soil of this earth, we feel,
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"Here I will for ever stay."
</p>
<p>
But if we know that they come from a foreign clime, we are
anxious to go
</p>
<p style="text-align: center">
"Where our dear Lord his vineyard keeps,<br>
And all the clusters grow."
</p>
<p class="indent">
Christian, then, rejoice, rejoice! Thy mercies come from
heaven; however small they be, still they are thy Father's
gift; not one comes to thee without his knowledge, and his
permission. Bless the Lord, therefore, that thou art come to
Canaan; where thy "land drinketh water of the rain of heaven!"
</p>
<p class="indent">
My dearly beloved, just stop here, and console yourselves, if
you are in trouble. "Oh!" says one, "I know not what I shall
do: where to turn myself I cannot tell." You are not like your
brother, who is sitting near you; <i>he</i> has a competency;
<i>he</i> has a river of Egypt to depend on; you have not any;
nevertheless, there is the sky still. If you were to tell a
farmer, "You have no rivers to water your lands." "Well," he
would say, "I don't want them either; for I have clouds up
there, and the clouds are enough." So, Christian, if thou hast
nothing to depend on down below, turn thine eyes up there, and
say, "The land, whither I go in to possess it, is not as the
land of Egypt, from whence I came out, where I sowed my seed,
and watered it with my foot, as a garden of herbs; but the
land, whither I go to possess it, is a land of hills and
valleys, and drinketh water of the rain of heaven."
</p>
<p class="indent">
2. But now comes the second distinction, and that is, <i>a
difference in the toilsomeness of their lives</i>. The worldly
man, just like the Israelites in Egypt, has to water his land
with his foot. Read the passage:—"For the land, whither
thou goest in to possess it, is not as the land of Egypt, from
whence ye came out, where thou sowedst thy seed, and wateredst
it with thy foot as a garden of herbs." This alludes, possibly
to the practice, amongst all eastern nations where the land is
irrigated, of letting out a certain quantity of water into a
trench, and then having small gutters dug in the gardens, to
compel the water to run along different parts of the ground.
Sometimes one of these gutters might be broken; and then the
gardener would press the mould against it with his foot, to
keep the water in its proper channel. But I have inclined to
think that the passage alludes to the method which those
eastern countries have of pumping up the water by a
tread-wheel, and so watering the land with their foot. However
that may be, it means that the land of Egypt was watered with
extraordinary labour, in order to preserve it from sterility.
"But," says Moses, "the land, to which ye are going, is not a
land which you will have to water with your foot. The water
will come spontaneously; the land will be watered by the rain
of heaven. You can sit in your own houses, or under your own
vine, or under your own fig tree, and God himself shall be your
irrigator. You shall sit still, and 'in quietness shall ye
possess your souls.'" Now, here is a difference between the
godly and ungodly:—<i>the ungodly man toils</i>. Suppose
his object is ambition; he will labor and labor, and labor, and
spend his very life, until he obtains the desire pinnacle.
Suppose it is wealth; how will he emaciate his frame, rob his
body of its needed sleep, and take away the nourishment his
frame requires, in order that he may accumulate riches! And if
it is learning, how will he burn his eyes out with the flame of
his hot desire, that he may understand all knowledge; how will
he allow his frame to become weak, and weary, and wan, by
midnight watchings, till the oil wherewith he lighteth himself
by night comes from his own flesh, and the marrow of his bones
furnisheth the light for his spirit! Men will in this way
labour, and toil, and strive. But not so the Christian. No: God
"giveth his beloved sleep." His "strength is to sit still." He
knows what it is to fulfil the command of Paul:—"I would
have you without carefulness." We can take things as God gives
them, without all this toil and labour. I have often admired
the advice of old Cineas to Pyrrhus. Old story saith, that when
Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, was making preparation for his
intended expedition into Italy, Cineas, the philosopher, took a
favourable opportunity of addressing him thus: "The Romans,
sir, are reported to be a warlike and victorious people; but if
God permit us to overcome them, what use shall we make of the
victory?" "Thou askest," said Pyrrhus, "a thing that is
self-evident. The Romans once conquered, no city will resist
us; we shall then be masters of all Italy."
</p>
<p class="indent">
Cineas added—"And having subdued Italy, what shall we do
next?" Pyrrhus not yet aware of his intentions, replied,
"Sicily next stretches out her arms to receive us." "That is
very probable," said Cineas, "but will the possession of Sicily
put an end to the war?" "God grant us success in that,"
answered Pyrrhus, "and we shall make these only the forerunners
of greater things, for then Libra and Carthage will soon be
ours: and these things being completed, none of our enemies can
offer any further resistance." "Very true," added Cineas, "for
then we may easily regain Macedon, and make absolute conquest
of Greece; and when all these are in our possession, what shall
we do then?" Pyrrhus, smiling, answered, "Why then, my dear
friend, we will live at our ease, take pleasure all day, and
amuse ourselves with cheerful conversation." "Well sir," said
Cineas, "and why may we not do this now, and without the labour
and hazard of an enterprise so laborious and uncertain?" So,
beloved, says the Christian. The worldly mans says, "Let me go
and do this; let me go and do that; let me accumulate so many
thousand pounds; let me get so rich; then I will enjoy myself
and take my ease." "Nay," says the Christian, "I see no reason
for doing it; why should I not make God my refuge now? Why
should I not enjoy comfort and peace, and make myself happy
now?" He does not want to water his land with his feet; but he
sits down quietly, and his land "drinketh in water of the rain
of heaven." Do not say I am preaching laziness. No such thing:
I am only saying it is vain for you to rise up early, and sit
up late, and eat the bread of carefulness, for, "Except the
Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it." But,
if "he giveth his beloved sleep," they rest in him; they know
not these toils; that is, if they have attained to full
assurance, and crossed into the Canaan of full confidence in
God. They do not care to go ranging the world to find their
happiness; but they say, "God is my ever present help; in him
my soul is satisfied." They rest content in him. Their land is
watered with the rain of heaven.
</p>
<p class="indent">
I remember a story of a young man who was a lawyer. In order to
attain fame in his position he was extremely anxious to
understand all the mysteries and tortuous windings of the law,
and to acquire some power of oratory, that he might be able to
deliver himself eloquently before the bench. For ten years did
he live apart from other people, lest domestic habits should
wean him from his studies; he wrapped himself every night in a
blanket, and took one of his own volumes, and put it under his
head; he denied himself food, eating only so many morsels a
day, lest indigestion should impair his powers. Although he was
an infidel, he believed in God; and he bowed his head so many
times a day, and prayed that he might lose anything rather than
his intellectual powers. "Make a giant of me!"—that was
his expression. And although his poor mother begged him to make
himself more comfortable, he would not, but persisted in his
course of abstemiousness and self-denial. One day, in reading
one of his books, he saw this passage: "When all is gained, how
little then is won! And yet to gain that little, how much is
lost!" He stamped his foot, and raved like a maniac at the
thought, that he had spent all these ten years, toiling and
wearying himself for nothing; he saw the vanity of his course;
he was driven to desperation, seized his axe, cut down the
sign-board of his profession, and said, "Here ends this
business." Turning to the same book, he found that it
recommended Christianity as the rest of the weary soul; he
found it in Christ, and attained to such an understanding of
Christ, that he became a preacher of the gospel, and might well
have preached on this text—"The land whither thou goest in
to possess it, is not as the land of Egypt, from whence ye came
out, where thou sowedst thy seed, and wateredst it with thy
foot, as a garden of herbs; but the land, whither ye go to
possess it, is a land of hills and valleys, and drinketh the
water of heaven: a land which the Lord thy God careth for: the
eyes of the Lord thy God are upon it, from the beginning of the
year even unto the end of the year."
</p>
<p class="indent">
3. This brings us to the third and last difference that we will
note this morning; and that is, that the unbeliever, he who has
not crossed the Jordan and come to full confidence, <i>does not
understand the universality of God's providence</i>, while the
assured Christian does. You will see that in my text in a
minute. In Egypt the ground is almost entirely flat; and where
it is not flat, it is impossible, of course, to grow anything,
unless the ground is watered at considerable difficulty by some
method of artificial irrigation, which shall force the water on
to the high places. "But," says Moses, "the land, whither ye go
to possess it, is a land of hills and valleys." The Egyptians
could not get the water up on the hills, but you can; for the
mountains drink in the rain, as well as the valleys. Now look
at a worldling. Give him comforts, give him prosperity: oh! he
can be so happy. Give him everything just as he likes it; make
his course all a plain, all a dead valley and a flat; he can
fertilize that, and water it; but let him have a mountainous
trouble, let him lose a friend, or let his property be taken
from him—put a hill in his way, and he cannot water that,
with all the pumping of his feet, and all the force he strives
to use. But the Christian lives in "a land of hills and
valleys;" a land of sorrow as well as joys; but the hills drink
the water, as well as the valleys. We need not climb the
mountains to water their heads, for our God is as high as the
hills. High as our troubles, and mountainous as are our
difficulties sometimes, we need not climb up with weary foot to
make them fertile, for they are all made to work together for
our good. Go, Egyptian; live thou in thy flat country, and
enjoy its luxuries; thou hast thy papyrus, and thou writest
mercies upon it, but it shall be the food of worms; we have no
lotus, but we have a flower that blooms in paradise; and we
write our mercies on rocks, and not on rushes. Oh! sweet
Canaan, heavenly land, where I dwell, and where you dwell, my
brother Christians—a land which "drinketh water of the
rain of heaven!"
</p>
<p class="indent">
II. We must consider a little time, THE SPECIAL MERCY. "The
eyes of the Lord are always upon it, from the beginning of the
year even unto the end of the year." WE must now turn away
altogether from the allegoric, and come to this special mercy,
which is the lot only of God's people.
</p>
<p class="indent">
"The eyes of the Lord thy God are always upon it, from the
beginning of the year even unto the end of the year:" that is,
upon the lot of all Christians <i>individually</i>. We have
come now, beloved, to the end of another year—to the
threshold of another period of time, and have marched another
year's journey through the wilderness. Come, now! In reading
this verse over, can you say Amen to it? "The eyes of the Lord
thy God are always upon you, from the beginning of the year
even unto the end of the year." Some of you say, "I have had
deep troubles this year." "I have lost a friend," says one.
"Ah!" says another, "I have been impoverished this year." "I
have been slandered," cries another. "I have been exceedingly
vexed and grieved," says another. "I have been persecuted,"
says another. Well, but, beloved, take the year
altogether—the blacks and the whites, the troubles and the
joys, the hills and the valleys altogether, and what have you
to say about it? You may say, "Surely goodness and mercy have
followed me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the
house of the Lord for ever." Do not pick out one day in the
year, and say it was a bad day, but take all the year round,
let it revolve in all its grandeur; let all the signs of the
Zodiac come before you. Do not say, "I have been in Cancer so
long a time," but run through them all, and then get into
Libra, and judge between things that differ; and then what will
you say? "Ah! bless the Lord! he hath done all things well; my
soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name!" And you
know why all things have been well. It is because the eyes of
the Lord have been upon you all the year. Oh! if those awful
eyes had been shut for a single moment, by night or day, where
should we have been? Why, we had not been at all but swept
away, like airy dreams, into nihility. God watches over every
one of his people, just as if there were only that one in the
world; and he has been watching over you, so that when a
trouble came, God said, "Trouble, avaunt!" "There shall no
temptation happen to you but such as is common to man." And
when your joys would have cloyed upon you, and around you, God
has said, "Stand back, joy! I will not have you fondle him too
much; he will be deceived by thee." "The eyes of the Lord" have
been upon you continually, "from the beginning of the year even
unto the end of the year." "Well," says one, "I cannot say so
much of my year." Then I cannot say so much of you. I was
speaking to the Christian; and if you cannot say of your year,
"surely goodness and mercy have followed it all," I am afraid
you are not a child of God, for methinks a child of God will
say, when he reviews it all, "not one good thing hath failed of
all the Lord God hath promised, but all hath come to pass."
</p>
<p class="indent">
Then, my brethren, might I not say a word to you concerning
<i>the eyes of the Lord having been upon us as a church</i>?
Ought we to let this year pass without rehearsing the works of
the Lord? Hath he not been with us exceeding abundantly, and
prospered us? It is during this year that we met together in
the great assembly—during this year that these eyes have
seen the mighty gatherings of men who listened to our words on
the Sabbath-day. We shall not soon forget our sojourn in Exeter
Hall-shall we? During those months the Lord brought in many of
his own elect, and multitudes who were unsaved up to that time
were called by divine mercy, and brought into the fold. How God
protected us there! What peace and prosperity hath he given to
us! How hath he enlarged our borders, and multiplied our
numbers, so that we are not few, and increased us, so that we
are not weak! I do think we were not thankful enough for the
goodness of the Lord which carried us there, and gave us so
many who have now become useful to use in our church! Remember
in how many places ye have worshipped God this year. This place
has been enlarged, so that more can be held within its walls;
now we can receive more to listen to the voice of the Gospel
than we could before; and God seems to say, "Go, forward, go
forward still." The goodness of the Lord has increased as we
have gone along. I have often feared, lest the people should
desert the house, and that when we made it larger we should not
have enough to fill it: but the Lord still sends an
overwhelming congregation, and still gives us grace to preach
his gospel. How thankful should we be! Surely, "the eyes of the
Lord" have been upon this church, "from the beginning of the
year even unto the end of the year." We have had peace: not a
rotten peace, I trust, but the peace of God. Nothing has arisen
that should disturb our equanimity. The church has been kept by
the grace of God faithful to the doctrines of grace. Ah! what a
blessing it is, that our members have been kept from falling
into sin! What a glorious thing that we are carried through
another year safely! Some old writer has said, "Every hour that
a Christian remains a Christian is an hour of miracle." It is
true; and every year that the church is kept an entire church
is a year of miracle.
</p>
<p class="indent">
It is a year of miracles. Tell it to the wide, wide world; tell
it everywhere. "The eye of the Lord" hath been upon us, "from
the beginning of the year even unto the end of the year." Two
hundred and ten persons have this year united with us in church
fellowship; about enough to have formed a church. One half the
churches in London cannot number so many in their entire body;
and yet the Lord has brought so many into our midst. And still
they come; still they come. Whenever I have an opportunity of
seeing those who are converted to God, they come in such
numbers that many have to be sent away. Still they come, still
they come; and well I am assured, that I have as many still in
this congregation, who will during the present year come
forward to put on the Lord Jesus Christ. How often has the
sacred pool of baptism been opened this year! How sweetly have
we assembled round the Lord's table! What precious moments we
have had at the Monday evening prayer meetings! And how
glorious it has been when we have recognized brother after
brother, sister after sister publicly, by giving them the right
hand of fellowship! In all our ways we hope we have
acknowledged him, and he has directed our paths. Sing unto the
Lord, for he hath done wonders; bless his name, for he has
worked miracles; praise his grace, for he hath highly exalted
his people; for he has worked miracles; praise his grace, for
he hath highly exalted his people; unto him be honor, for ever
and ever. And mark you, brethren, this church has known what it
is to come out of Egypt. We have not toiled with our feet here.
I hope there has been no desire to draw unfit persons into the
church, I have had no toiling with my feet, I am sure, in
preaching the gospel—no legal preaching—none of your
exciting preaching—none of all that toiling with your
feet; but we have had nothing but the rain from heaven. We have
not laboured to excite carnal passions, nor to preach sermons
with a view of driving you into religious fevers. Sturdy old
Calvinism will not let us do that. We cannot preach such
sermons as Arminians can. The land has been watered by the rain
of heaven. We have not had any of those fatal pestilential
mists that sometimes gather round the church. It is proverbial,
that wherever the revivalists go, they always carry desolation;
before them is an Eden; behind them is a desert; wherever they
go they scorch the land like firebrands; though hundreds seem
to be converted to God, they are converted to ten times blacker
sins than before, and the last end of them is worse than the
first.* We want not the getting up of a little feverish passion
by appealing to the natural man; it is the drinking water of
the rain of heaven that does the good. I trust it has been so
here, and that "the eyes of the Lord" have been upon you "from
the beginning of the year even to the end of the year."
</p>
<p class="indent">
So, beloved, I can say that, <i>as a minister, the eyes of the
Lord have been upon me this year</i>. It has been my privilege,
many times this year to preach his word. I think, more than
four hundred times have I stood in the pulpit to testify his
truth, and the eyes of the Lord have been upon me. Blessed be
his name! whether it has been in the north, in the south, in
the east, or in the west, I have never lacked a congregation;
nor have I ever gone again to any of the places I have preached
at, without hearing of souls converted. I cannot remember a
single village, or town, that I have visited a second time
without meeting with some who blessed God that they heard the
word of truth there. When I went to Bradford last time, I
stated in the pulpit that I had never heard of a soul being
converted through my preaching there; and the good pew-opener
came to Brother Dowson, and said, "Why didn't you tell Mr.
Spurgeon that such-a-one joined the church through hearing
him?" and instantly that dear man of God told me the cheering
news. We have met with much opposition this year. Thanks to our
brethren in the ministry, we have not had very much assistance
from them. We have been enabled to say to them all, "I will not
take from you, from a thread to a shoe-latchet, lest ye should
say, I have made him rich." But how much of that bigotry which
formerly existed has subsided! How much of that sneer, which
was at one time so common, has now gone away! I am now, rather
more afraid of their smiles than their frowns—though I do
not think I feel much of either. <i>Cedo nulli</i>, was my
motto at the beginning, and I take it once more. I yield to
none; but by the grace of God I preach his truth, and still, if
he help me, will I hold on my way. And to the Three-one God, be
eternal honor. Amen.
</p>
<p>
<a name="note"></a>
</p>
<p>
*The revivalists since this period have been usually true
preachers of the gospel with whom we have the fullest sympathy.
Our remarks were intended for certain American Arminian ravers
who had done much mischief.
</p>
<br>
<br>
<br>
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