Sermon 216. Confession and Absolution

(No. 216)

Delivered on Sabbath Morning, October 3, 1858, by the


at the Music Hall, Royal Surrey Gardens

"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 18:13.

THE HEROES OF OUR Saviour's stories are most of them selected to illustrate traits of character entirely dissimilar to theirgeneral reputation. What would you think of a moral writer of our own day, should he endeavor in a work of fiction, to setbefore us the gentle virtue of benevolence by the example of a Sepoy? And yet, Jesus Christ has given us one of the finestexamples of charity in the case of a Samaritan. To the Jews, a Samaritan was as proverbial for his bitteranimosity against their nation, as the Sepoy is among us for his treacherous cruelty, and as much an object of contemptand hatred; but Jesus Christ, nevertheless, chose his hero from the Samaritans, that there should be nothing adventitiousto 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 whowasfamed for his humility, but he has chosen a tax-gatherer, probably one of the most extortionate of his class, for thePharisee seems to hint as much; and I doubt not he cast his eye askance at this publican, when he observed, with selfgratulation,"God, I thank thee, that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican." Still, ourLord, in order that we might see that there was nothing to predispose in the person, but that the acceptance of the prayermight stand out, set even in a brighter light by the black foil of the publican's character, has selected this man tobe the pattern and model of one who should offer an acceptable prayer unto God. Note that, and you will not be surprised tofind the same characteristic exhibited very frequently in the parables of our Lord Jesus Christ. As for this publican, weknow but little of his previous career, but we may, without perilling any serious error, conjecture somewhat near the truth.He mayhave been, and doubtless he was a Jew, piously brought up and religiously trained, but, perhaps like Levi, he ran awayfrom his parents, and finding no other trade exactly suited to his vicious taste, he became one of that corrupt class whocollected the Roman taxes, and, ashamed to be known as Levi any longer, he changed his name to Matthew, lest anyone shouldrecognize in the degraded cast of the publican, the man whose parents feared God, and bowed their knees before Jehovah. Itmay be thatthis publican had in his youth forsaken the ways of his fathers, and given himself up to lasciviousness, and then foundthis unworthy occupation to be most accordant with his vicious spirit. We cannot tell how often he had ground the faces ofthe poor, or how many curses had been spilled upon his head when he had broken into the heritage of the widow, and had robbedthe friendless, unprotected orphan. The Roman government gave a publican far greater power than he ought to possess, and hewasnever slow to use the advantage for his own enrichment. Probably half of all he had was a robbery, if not more, for Zaccheusseems to hint as much in his own instance, when he says-"Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor and if I havegotten anything of any man by false accusation, I restore it unto him four-fold." It was not often that this publican troubledthe temple; the priests very seldom saw him coming with a sacrifice; it would have been an abomination, and he did notbring 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 scarcelyrest 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 endurehis misery any longer, he thought of that house of God at Zion, and of the sacrifice that was daily offered there. "To whom,orwhere should I go," said he, "but to God?-and where can I hope to find mercy, but where the sacrifice is offered." Nosooner said than done. He went; his unaccustomed feet bent their steps to the sanctuary, but he is ashamed to enter. Yon Phariseeholy man as he appeared to be, goes up unblushingly to the court of the Israelites. he goes as near as he dare to the veryprecincts, within which the priesthood alone might stand; and he prays with boastful language. But as for the publican, hechooses out for himself some secluded corner where he shall neither be seen nor heard, and now he is about to pray, notwith uplifted hands as yonder Pharisee, not with eyes turned up to heaven with a sanctimonious gaze of hypocrisy, but fixinghis eyes upon the ground, the hot tears streaming from them, not daring to lift them up to heaven. At last his stifled feelingsfound utterance; yet that utterance was a groan, a short prayer that must all be comprehended in the compass of a sigh: "Godbe merciful to me a sinner." It is done; he is heard; the angel of mercy registers his pardon, his conscience is at peace;hegoes down to his house a happy man, justified rather than the Pharisee, and rejoicing in the justification that the Lord hadgiven to him. Well then, my business this morning is to invite, to urge, to beseech you to do what the publican did, thatyou may receive what he obtained. There are two particulars upon which I shall endeavor to speak solemnly and earnestly: thefirst 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 excitementduring the last few weeks and months about the confessional. As for that matter, it is perhaps a mercy that the outward andvisible sign of Popery in the Church of England has discovered to its sincere friends the inward and spiritual evil whichhad long been lurking there. We need not imagine that the confessional, or priestcraft, of which it ismerely an offshoot, in the Church of England is any novelty: it has long been there, those of us who are outside her bordershave long observed and mourned over it, but now we congratulate ourselves on the prospect that the Church of England herselfwill be compelled to discover her own evils; and we hope that God may give her grace and strength to cut the cancer out ofher own breast before she shall cease to be a Protestant Church, and God shall cast her away as an abhorred thing. Thismorning, however, I have nothing to do with the confessional. Silly women may go on confessing as long as they like, andfoolish husbands may trust their wives if they please to such men as those. Let those that are fools show it; let those thathave no sense do as they please about it; but as for myself, I should take the greatest care that neither I nor mine haveought to do with such things. Leaving that, however, we come to personal matters, endeavoring to learn, even from the errorsofothers, how to act rightly ourselves.

Note the publican's confession; to whom was it presented? "God be merciful to me a sinner." Did the publican ever think about going to the priest to ask for mercy, and confessinghis sins? The thought may have crossed his mind, but his sin was too great a weight upon his conscience to be relieved inany such way, so he very soon dismissed the idea. "No," saith he, "I feel that my sin is of such a character that none butGod can take it away; and even if it wereright for me to go and make the confession to my fellow creature, yet I should think it must be utterly unavailing inmy case, for my disease is of such a nature, that none but an Almighty Physician ever can remove it." So he directs his confessionand his 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 thatwas all he confessed? No, beloved, I believe that long before this, the publican had made a confession of all his sinsprivately, upon his knees in his own house before God. But now, in God's house, all he has to say for man to hear, is-"I ama sinner." And I 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 youhavebeen a sinner, is but to sin over again, and to help your fellow creature to transgress. How filthy must be the soul ofthat priest who makes his ear a common sewer for the filth of other men's hearts. I cannot imagine even the devil to be moredepraved, than the man who spends his time in sitting with his ear against the lips of men and women, who, if they do trulyconfess, must make him an adept in every vice, and school him in iniquities that he otherwise never could have known. Oh,I chargeyou 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 ama 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 bemerciful 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 veryexcellence of penitence is lost, and its spell broken, if there be a question asked: the confession is not true and realunless it be spontaneous. The man cannot have felt the weight of sin, who wants somebody to tell him what his sins are. Canyou 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 it is on your back," he knows it is there. Andif,by the questioning of a priest, a full and thorough confession could be drawn from any man or woman, it would be totallyuseless, totally vain before God, because it is not spontaneous. We must confess our sins, because we cannot help confessingthem; it must come out, because we cannot keep it in; like fire in the bones, it seems as if it would melt our very spirit,unless we gave vent to the groaning of our confession before the throne of God. See this publican, you cannot hear the abjectfull confession that he makes; all that you can hear is his simple acknowledgment that he is a sinner; but that comesspontaneously from his lips; God himself has not to ask him the question but he comes before the throne, and freely surrendershimself up to the hands of Almighty Justice, confessing that he is a rebel and a sinner. That is the first thing we have tonote 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 confess? 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 herepresent 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 myfriend, it will suit thy lips and mine too. If thou knowest thineheart, and I know mine, the prayer that will suit her will suit us also. You have never committed the sins which the Phariseedisowned; you have neither been extortionate, nor unjust, nor an adulterer; you have never been even as the publican, butnevertheless the word "sinner" will still apply to you; and you will feel it to be so if you are in a right condition. Rememberhow much you have sinned against light. It is true the harlot hath sinned more openly than you, but had she suchlight as you have had? Do you think she had such an early education and such training as you have received? Did she everreceive such checkings of conscience and such guardings of providence, as those which have watched over your career? Thismuch I must confess for myself-I do, and must feel a peculiar heinousness in my own sin, for I sin against light, againstconscience, and more, against the love of God received, and against the mercy of God promised. Come forward, thou greatestamongsaints, 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, I beseech you use this prayer to-day, for it must suit you all. Merchant, hast thou no sins of businessto confess? Woman, hast thou no household sins to acknowledge? Child of many prayers, hast thou no offense against fatherand motherto confess? Have we loved the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our strength; and have we eachloved our neighbor as ourself. Oh, let us close our lips as to any boasting, and when we open them, let these be the firstwords that escape from them, "I have sinned, O Lord; I have broken thy commandments; Lord, have mercy upon me a sinner." Butmark, is it not a strange thing that the Holy Spirit should teach a man to plead his sinnership before the throne of God?Onewould think that when we come before God we should try to talk a little of our virtues. Who would suppose that when aman was asking for mercy he would say of himself, "I am a sinner?" Why surely reason would prompt him to say, "Lord have mercyupon me; there is some good point about me: Lord have mercy upon me; I am not worse than my neighbors: Lord have mercy uponme. I will try to be better." Is it not against reason, is it not marvellously above reason, that the Holy Spirit should teachaman to urge at the throne of grace, that which seems to be against his plea, the fact that he is a sinner? And yet, dearbrethren, if you and I want to be heard, we must come to Christ as sinners. Do not let us attempt to make ourselves betterthan 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 pretendedvirtues; rags are the garments of sinners. Confession is the only music that must come from our lips; "God be merciful toME-asinner;" that must be the only character in which I can pray to God. Now, are there not many here who feel that they aresinners, and are groaning, sighing, and lamenting, because the weight of sin lies on their conscience? Brother, I am gladthou feelest thyself to be a sinner, for thou hast the key of the kingdom in thy hands. Thy sense of sinnership is thy onlytitle to mercy. Come. I beseech thee, just as thou art-thy nakedness is thy only claim on heaven's wardrobe; thy hunger isthyonly claim on heaven's granaries, thy poverty is thy only claim on heaven's eternal riches. Come just as thou art, withnothing of thine own, except thy sinfulness, and plead that before the throne-"God be merciful to me a sinner." This is whatthis man confessed, that he was a sinner, and he pleaded it, making the burden of his confession to be the matter of his pleabefore 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 he dothat for? Was it not because he felt himself a separated man? We have often made general confessions in the temple, but therenever was a confession accepted, except it was particular, personal, and heartfelt. There were the people gathered togetherfor the accustomed service of worship; they join in a psalm of praise,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 theforest where it may bleed and die alone in profound solitude, so did this poor publican seem to feel he must be alone. Younotice he does not say anything about other people in his prayer. "God be merciful to me," he says. He does not say "one ofa company of sinners," but "a sinner," as if there were not another sinner in all the world. Mark this, my hearer, thatthou must feel thyself solitary and alone, before thou canst ever pray this prayer acceptably. Has the Lord ever picked theeout in a congregation? Has it seemed to you in this Hall as if there were a great black wall round about you, and you wereclosed in with the preacher and with your God, and as if every shaft from the preacher's bow was levelled at you, and everythreatening meant for you, and every solemn upbraiding was an upbraiding for you? If thou hast felt this, I will congratulate thee. No man ever prayed this prayer aright unless he prayed alone, unless hesaid "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 hewould not; he would have done it if he dared. How remarkable it is that repentance takes all the daring out of men. We haveseen fellows very dare-devils before they were touched by sovereign grace, who have become afterwards, the most tremblingand conscientious men with the tenderest conscience that one could imagine. Men who were careless, braggingand defying God, have become as humble as little children, and even afraid to lift their eyes to heaven, though once theysent 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 youfeel as if you could not hope that God would have mercy on you, as if the least gleam of hope was more light than you couldpossibly bear; as if your eyes were so used to the darkness of doubt and despondency, that even one stolen ray seemedto be too much for your poor weak vision? Ah! well, fear not, for happy shall it be for thee; thou art only following thepublican in his sad experience now, and the Lord who helps thee to follow him in the confession, shall help thee to rejoicewith 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 smitehis breast for? Because he knew where the mischief lay-in his breast. He did not smite upon his brow as some men do when theyare perplexed, as if the mistake were in their understanding. Many a man will blame his understanding, while he will not blamehis heart, and say, "Well, I have made a mistake. I have certainly been doing wrong, but I am agood-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! 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 himselfwhen he smote his breast again and again, and cried "Alas! alas! woe is me that I should ever have sinned against my God"-"Godbe merciful to a sinner." Now, can you come to God like this, my dear friend? Oh, let us alldraw near to God in this fashion. Thou hast enough, my brother, to make thee stand alone for there have been sins in whichthou and I have stood each of us in solitary guilt. There are iniquities known only to ourselves, which we never told to thepartner of our own bosom, not to our own parents or brothers, nor yet to the friend with whom we took sweet counsel. If wehave sinned thus alone, let us go to our chambers, and confess alone, the husband apart, and the wife apart, the father apart,and the child apart. Let us each one wail for himself. Men and brethren, leave off to accuse one another. Cease from thebickerings of your censoriousness. and from the slanders of your envy. Rebuke yourselves and not your fellows. Rend your ownhearts, and not the reputation of your neighbors. 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 thineeyes? Does it not seem sometimes too much for us ever to look to heaven again. We have blasphemed God, some of us, andeven imprecated curses on our own limbs and eyes; and when those things come back to our memory we may well be ashamed tolook up. Or if we have been preserved from the crime of open blasphemy-how often have you and I forgotten God! how often havewe neglected prayer! how have we broken his Sabbaths and left his Bible unread! Surely these things as they flash across ourmemory, might constrain us to feel that we cannot lift up so much as our eyes towards heaven. And as for smiting on ourbreast, what man is there among us that need not do it? Let us be angry with ourselves, because we have provoked God to beangry with us. Let us be in wrath with the sins that have brought ruin upon our souls, let us drag the traitors out, and putthem at once to a summary death; they deserve it well; they have been our ruin; let us be their destruction. He smote uponhisbreast and said, "God, be merciful unto me 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." There is in the Greek word a distinct reference to the doctrine of atonement. It is not the Unitarian'sprayer-"God be merciful to me," it is more than that-it is theChristian's prayer, "God be propitiated towards me, a sinner." There is, I repeat it, a distinct appeal to the atonementand the mercy-seat in this short prayer, Friend, if we would come before God with our confessions, we must take care thatwe plead the blood of Christ. There is no hope for a poor sinner apart from the cross of Jesus. We may cry, "God be mercifulto me," but the prayer can never be answered apart from the victim offered, the Lamb slain from before the foundation of theworld.When thou hast thine eye upon the mercy-seat, take care to have thine eye upon the cross too. Remember that the crossis, after all "the mercy seat; that mercy never was enthroned, until she did hang upon the cross crowned with thorns. If thouwouldst find pardon, go to dark Gethsemane, and see thy Redeemer sweating, in deep anguish, gouts of gore. If thou wouldsthave peace of conscience, go to Gabbatha, the pavement, and see thy Saviour's back flooded with a stream of blood. If thouwouldsthave the last best rest to thy conscience, go to Golgotha; see the murdered victim as he hangs upon the cross, with handsand feet and side all pierced, as every wound is gaping wide with misery extreme. There can be no hope for mercy apart fromthe 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 troubledconscience.

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 man who is dying. When a poor fellow has the cholera, and sees black death staring him in the face, or when he is terrifiedand thunderstruck in the time of storm, or when he finds himself amidst the terrible confusion and alarm of a perilous catastropheor a sudden accident, while drawing near to the gates of death, it is only right that heshould say, Lord have mercy upon me." Ah, friend, the prayer must be suitable to you then, if you are a dying man; itmust be suitable to you, for you know not how near you are to the borders of the grave. Oh, if thou didst but understand thefrailty 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 cometo the lastgasp." "Oh," says one, "I think it will suit a man that has been a very great sinner." 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 ifyou don't feel yourself to be a great sinner, I know you will never pray it. But there are some here that feel themselvesto be what you ought to feel and know that you are. Such will, constrained by grace, use the prayer with an emphasis thismorning,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 come more briefly still to notice the ABSOLUTION which God gave. Absolutionfrom the lips of man I do believe is little short of blasphemy. There is in the Prayer Book of the Church of England an absolutionwhich is essentially Popish, which I should think must be almost a verbatim extract from the Romish missal. I do not hesitateto say, that there was never anything more blasphemous printed in Holywell Street, than theabsolution that is to be pronounced by a clergyman over a dying man; and it is positively frightful to think that anypersons calling themselves Christians should rest easy in a church until they have done their utmost to get that most excellentbook thoroughly reformed and revised, and to get the Popery purged out of it. But there is such a thing as absolution, myfriends, and the publican received it. "He went to his house justified rather than the other." The other had nought of peacerevealed to his heart, this poor man had all, and he went to his house justified. It does not say that he went to hishouse, having eased his mind; that is true, but more: he went to his house "justified." What does that mean? It so happensthat the Greek word here used is the one which the apostle Paul always employs to set out the great doctrine of the righteousnessof Jesus Christ-even the righteousness which is of God by faith. The fact is, that the moment the man prayed the prayer, everysin he had ever done was blotted out of God's book, so that it did not stand on the record against him; and more, themoment that prayer was heard in heaven, the man was reckoned to be a righteous man. All that Christ did for him was cast abouthis shoulders to be the robe of his beauty, that moment all the guilt that he had ever committed himself was washed entirelyaway and lost for ever. When a sinner believes in Christ, his sins positively cease to be, and what is more wonderful theyall 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 awayin an instant; for you will notice the absolution was instantaneously given. God did not say to the man-"Now you must go andperform some good works, and then I will give you absolution." He did not say as the Pope does, "Now you must swelter awhilein the fires of Purgatory, and then I will let you out." No, he justified him there and then; thepardon was given as soon as the sin was confessed. "Go, my son, in peace; I have not a charge against thee; thou art asinner in thine own estimation, but thou art none in mine; I have taken all thy sins away, and cast them into the depth ofthe sea, and they shall be mentioned against thee no more for ever." Can you tell what a happy man the publican was, whenall 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 thetouch of the Father's mercy made him rise to angelic brightness and delight; and he went out of that house with his eyeupward, no longer afraid. Instead of the groan that was on his heart, he had a song upon his lip. He no longer walked alone,he 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. Youwouldnot have known that he was the same man, if you had seen him going out, and all that was done in a minute. "But," saysone, " do you think he knew for certain that all his sins were forgiven? Can a man know that?" Certainly he can. And therebe some here that can bear witness that this is true. They have known it themselves. The pardon which is sealed in heavenis re-sealed in our own conscience. The mercy which is recorded above is made to shed its light into the darkness of our hearts.Yes, aman may know on earth that his sins 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 beso pardoned that all shall be forgotten-I who have been a drunkard, a swearer, or what not? May I have all my transgressionswashed away? May I be made sure of heaven, and all that in a moment?" Yes, my friend, If thou believest in the Lord JesusChrist, if thou wilt stand where thou art, and just breathe this prayer out, "Lord, have mercy! God be merciful to mea sinner, through the blood of Christ." I tell thee man, God never did deny that prayer yet; if it came out of honest lipshe 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 shallpierce 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 youleave thisHall. Stand where you are; endeavor to realize that you are an alone, and if you feel that you are guilty. now let theprayer ascend. Oh, what a marvellous thing, it from the thousands of hearts here present, so many thousand prayers might goup to God! Surely the angels themselves never had such a day in Paradise, as they would have to-day, if every one of us couldunfeignedly make that confession. Some are doing it; I know they are; God is helping them. And sinner, do you stay away? You,whohave most need to come, do you refuse to join with us. Come, brother come. You say you are too vile. No, brother, youcannot be too vile to say, "God be merciful to me." 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 youto 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, ifit is not ready to receive his mercy. Spirit of God, breathe on the hard heart, and melt it now! Help the man who feelsthat 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 have got hardened andgrown 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 he is not sincere, whenhis very fear is a proof of his sincerity. "But," says one, "I have no redeeming trait in my character at all." I am gladyou 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. Assure asGod 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 manyyears, but he has never forgotten thee; thou hast resisted all his warnings until now, and he is almost weary, but still hehas said concerning thee, "How shall I make thee as Admah; how shall I set thee as Zeboim? Mine heart is turned within me,myrepentings 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 sin

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, gohome, and ere you feast your bodies, pour out your hearts before God, and let this one cry go up from all our lips, "God bemerciful 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 willrepeat 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,


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

P.S.-The preacher hopes that he who reads will feel constrained most solemnly to do likewise.