3234. Strangers And Sojourners

A Sermon Published On Thursday, January 26, 1911.

For I am a stranger with you, and a sojourner, as all my forefathers were. {Ps 39:12}

1. If you read the whole verse, you will see that David used these words as an argument in prayer: “Hear my prayer, oh Lord, and give ear to my cry; do not hold your peace at my tears: for I am a stranger with you, and a sojourner, as all my forefathers were.” It is a grand thing to be able to argue with God in prayer. Faith grips the Angel of the covenant, but it is by well-grounded arguments that we must wrestle with him until we prevail. Expectancy puts in the wedge, but it is the solid argument that drives it home. When we want to obtain any mercy from the Lord, we must support our plea by reasons drawn from his nature, his promises, and the experiences of his children as recorded in his Word. Martin Luther was a great master of this holy art of arguing with God in prayer, as was the apostle Paul, and therefore their supplications were not presented in vain. Let it be so with you also, beloved; besiege the throne of grace with the most powerful arguments you can find in the heavenly armoury; lay hold on the arm of omnipotence, and say to the Lord, as wrestling Jacob did, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.”

2. I. It is, however, the argument that David used, rather than the prayer that he presented on which I want to talk to you at this time; so, first, I ask you to notice that DAVID WAS A STRANGER AND A SOJOURNER, AS ALL HIS FOREFATHERS HAD BEEN BEFORE HIM. A stranger is a person who is away from his home, and a sojourner is one who only stays in a certain place for a short time, and then must be up and away; such is a true Christian. In what respects is he a stranger?

3. First, he is a stranger in his position. He is not in his native land, he is a freeman of the New Jerusalem; he sings,—

   I’m but a stranger here,

      Heaven is my home;

   Earth is a desert drear,

      Heaven is my home.

   Dangers and sorrows stand

      Round me on every hand;

   Heaven is my fatherland,

      Heaven is my home.

4. While we are here in the body, we are absent from our nearest and dearest relatives. You know how Jesus taught his disciples to pray, “Our Father, who is in heaven.” Our Elder Brother has gone home before us to prepare the many mansions in his Father’s house for our eternal abiding-place. Many of our brothers and sisters in Christ have already joined the general assembly and church of the firstborn who are written in heaven. It is true that we have many very dear relatives here, but they also are strangers here even as we are, pilgrims to the Celestial City that lies beyond the river. Our true possessions are not here; we own no property in this world. We have had certain things lent to us for use while we are here, and we have to give an account of how we use them; but we must leave them all behind us when we go home. We brought nothing into this world, and we can carry nothing out of it. Our inheritance is above, an inheritance which is undefiled, and that does not fade away, which we are to share with Christ, for we are joint-heirs of it with him. Our treasure is in the place where our heart is, and both are now before the throne of God on high in the keeping of Christ, to whom we have committed them until that day when we shall be with him where he is, and shall behold his glory. “We have no continuing city here, but we seek one to come.” I know that there are tender associations connected with our earthly homes and loved ones; yet how often are the ashes of our family hearth quenched by the tears of grief while the black pall of mourning hangs over those who have been taken from us. Ah, no! this is not our home; our native land, our true country is in the heavenly highlands where Jesus dwells, and we long for the time when he shall say to us, “Come up here.” Then, but not until then, shall we be at home with the Lord.

5. Next, we are strangers, not only in position, but in character. When an Englishman crosses over to France, he is quickly recognised as a stranger and a foreigner, and a true Christian is not in any place long before it is discovered that he is of a different nationality from them by whom he is surrounded. His pedigree is not the same as that of worldlings; they are of their father the devil, and they do his works, but he has been “born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the Word of God, which lives and endures for ever.” God is now his Father, for he has “begotten him again to a living hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.” His manners, too, as well as his pedigree, are not like those of worldlings. If an Englishman goes to the Continent, and tries to pass himself off as a German or a Frenchman, he is soon detected; and, in a similar way, a true Christian reveals the fact that he is an alien in this world; his ways and manners and customs are not those of the men of the world who have their portion in this life. He has obeyed that great apostolic command, “Do not be conformed to this world: but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” There is also something in a Christian’s speech which shows that he is a stranger in this world, he has a particular accent which the worldling cannot imitate. Even when a Christian speaks wrongly, he is speedily detected. Peter denied with an oath that he even knew Jesus of Nazareth, but those who stood by were not deceived by his swearing, for they said to him, “Surely you also are one of them; for your speech betrays you.”

6. The reason for all this is because there is an essential difference between the nature of a Christian and the nature of a worldling; the worldling is of the earth, earthy; but the Christian is no longer a mere natural man, for he has had a higher and spiritual nature imparted to him; indeed, he has been made a partaker of the divine nature. The worldling seeks the things of the world, but the spiritual man seeks the things of the Spirit. What came down from heaven returns back to heaven; and just as fire seeks the sun, the great central source of light and heat, so the new spirit within the Christian seeks God, and Christ, and the Holy Spirit, and things eternal, heavenly, and divine. I say again that there is an essential difference between the nature of a Christian and the nature of a worldling; you cannot make a true Christian into a worldling, and you cannot make a worldling into a Christian. A natural man must be born again before he can become a Christian, and then he will not be the same man that he was before, but a new creature in Christ Jesus.

7. Further, being strangers in this world, we must expect to be treated as strangers by the world. Worldlings cannot understand us, just as the people in a foreign country cannot understand an Englishman who can only speak his native language. He is a stranger in a strange land, and so is a Christian in this world. When the Lord Jesus Christ was on this earth, the great majority of the people could not understand him; he was a stranger in the very world which he had made, and the world does not know us because it did not know him; and the more we are like him, the less will the world to able to understand us. The carnal mind does not know the things of the Spirit “because they are spiritually discerned.” We must not marvel, therefore, beloved, if our motives are misconstrued, and our words wrested and twisted, and we are slandered and abused. We are like the pilgrims passing through Vanity Fair; and if we did not receive such treatment as they received, we might begin to suspect that we had become like the citizens of that country, and were no longer pilgrims bound to Zion’s city.

8. Further, we are in our hearts strangers to the world. Wherever a true Englishman wanders, his heart always turns towards his native land, and he says,—

   “England, with all thy faults, I love thee still;”—

and when once again he sees this hoary cliffs of old Albion, his heart leaps within him, for he is glad to be back in the dear homeland. I have travelled through many lands, and I can appreciate their beauties; but, after all, “there is no place like home.” So it is with the Christian. He has various interests and occupations here, and he seeks to be a blessing in the land where he is for a while a sojourner; but his heart is with Christ in heaven, and he can never be fully satisfied until he is there too. An Englishman abroad is often hard to please; he thinks, sometimes very foolishly, that there is nothing as good as what he has in his fair island home, and a Christian knows that heavenly things are infinitely preferable to the things of earth. He has long since learned that there is nothing here to satisfy his immortal spirit, and his heart is always anticipating the time when he shall be at home with his Lord, and find in him all that his capacious soul can wish for.

9. Certainly, brothers and sisters in Christ, we ought to be strangers to the world in our conduct. When we are in a foreign country, we are very cautious where we go, for we do not feel as safe as when we are in our own land, where we can ask our way, and easily understand the directions given to us. When we try to bargain with the foreigners, we are not certain whether they are cheating us; and, certainly, the Christian in this world has many who are attempting to cheat him: not merely for time, but for eternity too. That arch-rogue, the devil, is plotting against him every day, and all Satan’s legions are constantly seeking to rob him of his holiness or of his peace of mind, or in some way or other to lead him astray. So be on your guard, Christian, as you journey through this foreign land. You are in an enemy’s country, a foe may be lurking behind every hedge, a fiery arrow may be shot at you from every bush; keep your sword unsheathed, always have ready for use that two-edged “sword of the Spirit which is the Word of God,” and hold as with a death-grip the great “shield of faith, with which you shall be able to quench all the fiery arrows of the wicked.” The great adversary of your soul will attack you just at the moment when you think yourself most secure, so “be sober, be vigilant”; always obey your Master’s command, “What I say to you I say to everyone, ‘Watch.’” Strangers in a foreign land should have their wits about them, and Christians in this world should have their graces in active exercise; if they do not, they will bitterly regret their folly and sin.

10. Yet further, we are strangers as for our supplies. When we go to the Continent, we do not expect the people living there—the hotel keepers, shopkeepers, and so on,—to pay the cost of our travelling, and board and lodging, and to buy for us anything that takes our fantasy. No; we take with us as much money as we think we shall need, or drafts that we can cash at a foreign bank; and if we find that we do not have sufficient funds, we send to England for more, for we are absolutely dependent on our home supplies. It is just so in spiritual matters with the Christian; he knows that he must not look for a single lump of coal from earth’s mines to keep alight the fire of his piety, but he must depend on God for everything. Like the Israelites, he is in a waste howling wilderness that can yield him no supplies of grain, and his bread must drop from heaven day by day, or he will starve; he is in a desert unwatered by any river where he can quench his thirst, and all he has to drink must flow from the riven rock, Christ Jesus. Everything he has must come directly from his God; his eye must always be lifted up to the hills, where his help comes from; his help comes from the Lord, who made the heavens and the earth.

11. And, to close this part of the subject, the Christian is a stranger as for the short duration of his sojourn in this world. Thank God, we are not to be here for long. Though the days of our pilgrimage should be seventy, or eighty, or even ninety years, how swiftly they come to an end! No weaver’s shuttle flies so fast as does the life of man, and the Christian who dies the soonest is all the earlier in heaven. The worker for Christ who gets his service finished first receives his reward all the sooner. {a} Instead of dreading Death, and telling him depart from us, we might rather beckon him to come for us. Come quickly, blessed messenger, to summon us to the presence of the King! Come, chariot of fire and horses of fire, and take the servant of the Lord to be for ever with his gracious Master and Saviour! Of course, I am saying all this in complete subservience to the will of God. He knows the best time and way to end our earthly service; and, after all, it does not matter when and how we go home to heaven; and if we “are alive and remain to the coming of the Lord,” we “shall not prevent (or have any preference over) those who are asleep. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trumpet of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first; then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air, and so we shall always be with the Lord. Therefore comfort each other with these words.”

12. II. Now, secondly, notice that DAVID WAS A STRANGER WITH GOD, and so is the true Christian. The worldling is a stranger to God, but the true believer in Jesus is a stranger with God, and there is an eternal difference between the two.

13. What is the meaning of the sentence, “I am a stranger with you?” I think it means, first, that although we are strangers in the world, we are constantly under God’s eye and care. “The eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and his ears are open to their cry.” Beloved, you are always under God’s discerning eye; he searches you, and tries you, and sees if there is any wicked way in you, and leads you in the everlasting way. You are all constantly under God’s protecting eye. You know what he said of old concerning his vineyard: “I the Lord keep it; I will water it every moment: lest anyone harm it, I will keep it night and day.” Further, you are continually under God’s directing eye: “I will guide you with my eye.” You are also always under God’s pitying eye. “Just as a father pities his children, so the Lord pities those who fear him.” You are, too, never absent from, God’s providing eye. One of the Lord’s most precious names is Jehovah-Jireh, which means “The Lord will see, or provide.” And you are perpetually under God’s delighting eye. He says to you, “You shall no more be called Forsaken; neither shall your land any more be called Desolate: but you shall be called Hephzibah, and your land Beulah, for the Lord delights in you, and your land shall be married.”

14. Further, that sentence means that, although we are strangers in the world, we enjoy special fellowship with God. The apostle John says, “Truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ.” We are not strangers to God, for, like Enoch, we walk with God in hallowed and intimate union and communion. He has told us some of his greatest secrets, for “the secret of the Lord is with those who fear him; and he will show them his covenant.” He has given us the high privilege of dwelling in the secret place of the Most High, and residing under the shadow of the Almighty. He has brought us into his banqueting house, and his banner over us has been love; and we have had such rapturous fellowship with him that we understand what Paul meant when he said that he was “caught up into paradise, and heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter.”

15. The sentence “I am a stranger with you,” also means that, although we are strangers in the world, God is a stranger too. It is incredibly strange, yet it is strangely true, that God is a stranger in his own world. Here is his handiwork all around us, most fair and beautiful, yet the fool says in his heart, “There is no God,” and proves himself to be a fool by saying it. Here are signs on every hand of the working of God’s gracious providence, mysterious but amazingly wise, yet worldlings cannot see any traces of the finger or mind or heart of God, for he is a stranger to them. And since God is a stranger here, we need not marvel that we, who are his children, are also strangers on the earth.

      Behold what wondrous grace

      The Father hath bestowed

   On sinners of a mortal race,

      To call them sons of God!

      ’Tis no surprising thing

      That we should be unknown:

   The Jewish world knew not their King,

      God’s everlasting Son.

I think I see my gracious Lord and Master wandering through this world as a stranger, “despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief”;—spit on, scourged, hounded out from among men, and at last crucified “outside the gate.” Then, when we “go out to him outside the camp, bearing his reproach,” we are strangers with him, and what higher honour than that can any of us ever desire? “The disciple is not above his Master, nor the servant above his Lord. It is enough for the disciple that he is as his Master, and the servant as his Lord.”

16. There is another thought that I must not leave out; it is this. Though we are strangers in the world, we are with Christ all the while. Where is the true Christian’s life? Paul answers the question in writing to the Colossians: “If you then are risen with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ sits on the right hand of God. Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth. For you are dead, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is our life, shall appear, then you shall also appear with him in glory.” Christ is the Christian’s All in all, so what can there be belonging to the Christian that is left here on earth? Why, nothing at all that need trouble us for a moment, for “God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in sins, has quickened us together with Christ, (by grace you are saved;) and has raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus.” Representatively, we are in heaven even now; and where our Head is, there will all the members of his mystical body to gathered in due time.

17. III. Now, lastly, IF WE ARE STRANGERS AND SOJOURNERS HERE, WHAT THEN?

18. First, it is clear that we must have a home somewhere. “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests,” and shall the immortal spirit of man have no home? God forbid! We could not be called strangers and sojourners unless we had a native land somewhere; a man who is an alien in one country is a citizen of another; so we, who are strangers and sojourners here, are citizens of a better country, even a heavenly.

   There is a happy land,

      Far, far away,—

which is my true home, and there, in God’s good time, I know that I shall be—

   No more a stranger or a guest,

      But like a child at home.

Do you think God would make us so dissatisfied with this world if he did not intend to satisfy us with another and a better one? Surely not; the very fact that we are strangers and sojourners on the earth proves that we have a country of our own that is very different from this wilderness-world through which we are passing.

19. This being the case, it is not surprising that we sometimes long to get home. We ought not to long for heaven from any lazy motives. A good workman may be so tired with heavy toil that he eagerly looks forward to Saturday night so that he may enjoy his Sabbath rest, and renew his strength for new service on the following day; and you and I, beloved, though we are not tired of our Master’s work, are often tired in it, and we shall be glad when our rest day comes. Thank God, it is not to be six days’ work, and then one day’s rest, but it is to be a rest that shall know no end, a rest in untiring service. “There remains therefore a rest (a Sabbatismos, an eternal keeping of the Sabbath,) for the people of God.” I said that it is not surprising that we sometimes long to get home. You would not think that a boy loved his home if he never longed for the holidays to come. I remember that, when I was at boarding-school, I made an Almanac with a square for every day, and I blotted out each one as it went by; and, sometimes, I blotted it out the night before so that I might seem to have fewer days at school; and, Christian, you also may rejoice as the days of your school-training here pass, for, as each one flits by, you are “a day’s march nearer home.”

      Though in a foreign land,

      We are not far from home;

   And nearer to our home above

      We every moment come.

20. Do you not also think, dear friends, that the fact that we are strangers here should make us treat each other well? And, surely, if the worldling knew Christians better, he would treat them better. They are strangers to you, man, but they are God’s strangers; they are royal personages incognito, princes of the blood-imperial travelling through this world to their wonderful palaces above. But let us who are fellow pilgrims and strangers help each other all we can. If you are in Switzerland, or up the Rhine, and have had some difficulty or trouble, if you see an Englishman coming, you feel pretty sure that your fellow countryman will do what he can to help you. It should be so with Christians. We are strangers in this world, so let us help each other all we can. We are soldiers in an enemy’s country, so back to back and shoulder to shoulder let us face the foes that are all around us. Though we are strangers to the world, we are not strangers to God, so do not let us be strangers to each other, but let us be of one heart and mind, walking in love, even as Christ loved us, and gave himself for us.

21. Then, next, surely we ought never to envy the lot of sinners. I never begrudge horses their grain or the swine their husks and swill, then why should I envy sinners? I remember David’s words, “Do not fret because of evildoers, neither be envious against the workers of iniquity. For they shall soon be cut down like the grass, and wither as the green herb.” When a friend once gave Martin Luther a large sum of money, he stood at the church-door, and gave it all away to the poor, because he said that he had made up his mind to have his portion in the next world, and not in this. There is nothing in the sinner’s lot, either here or hereafter, that you and I have any reason to envy.

22. And let us never murmur about our own lot.

   The road may be rough, but it cannot be long;

   So let’s smooth it with hope, and cheer it with song.

There you are, my poor brother or sister, fretting about what you will do in six months’ time, worrying about the rent, the fire, food, the clothing, and I do not know what else; yet, it may be that, before even this year ends, your head may be wearing the crown, and your fingers sweeping the golden harp-strings, and you yourself,—

   Far from this world of grief and sin,

   With God eternally shut in.

And if you are still here for a while, the Lord will provide for you, so cast all your care on him who cares for you.

23. So, lastly, what an easy thing it should be for a Christian to die! He is a stranger with God even here, but he will be with God, and not as a stranger, up there. He has been with God in life, and God will be with him in death.

   Strangers into life we come,

   And dying is but going home.

But going home is not hard work, going home is not a thing to be dreaded; we should rather sing in joyful anticipation of it, as so many of our dear brothers and sisters have done when they have actually reached the hour of their home-going.

24. Yet, alas! there are some here who may well dread their home-going, for they are strangers to God, “aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope, and without God in the world.” Oh soul, if that is your condition, do not remain as a stranger to God a moment longer! Repent of your sin, and trust God to forgive it, for Jesus’ sake “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved”; and then, though you will be a stranger here, you will not be stranger up there where he is. May God bless you, for Christ’s sake! Amen.

Exposition By C. H. Spurgeon {Ps 39}

This Psalm gives a description of David’s experience and conduct when stretched on a sick-bed. He appears to have felt impatience working within him, which I am sorry to say is a very common disease with most of us when God’s hand is heavy on us. Yet David struggled against his impatience; though he felt it, he would not show it, lest he should open the mouths of his enemies by it, and cause them to speak evil of his God. Let us imitate his restraint if we resemble him in the temptation to impatience.

1. I said, “I will take heed to my ways, so that I do not sin with my tongue:—

This government of the tongue is a most important part of our ways; it is a very essential part of holy discipline; yet we have heard of one saint who said that he had lived for seventy years, and had tried to control his tongue, but that he had only begun to understand the art when he died. David said, “I will take heed to my ways, so that I do not sin with my tongue”;—

1. I will keep my mouth with a bridle, while the wicked are before me.”

They have such keen ears, and they are so ready to misinterpret and misrepresent our words, and if they can find one word awry, they will immediately preach a long sermon over it, so let us muzzle our mouths while they are near. The bad words of Christians often make texts for sinners, and so God is blasphemed out of the mouths of his own beloved children. Let it not be so with any of you, beloved.

2. I was dumb with silence, I held my peace, even from good; and my sorrow was stirred.

We all know that, unless our grief can find expression, it swells and grows until our heart is ready to break. We have heard of a wise physician who told a man in great trouble to weep as much as he ever could. “Do not restrain your grief,” he said, “but let it all out.” He felt that only in that way would the poor sufferer’s heart be kept from breaking. David determined that, before the wicked, he would have nothing at all to say; and though his griefs were surging within him, yet for a time he kept them from bursting out.

3. My heart was hot within me, while I was musing the fire burned: then I spoke with my tongue.

He could not hold his peace any longer; it would have been good if he had done so, for he uttered an unwise prayer when he spoke with his tongue.

4. “LORD, make me to know my end,

That is what you and I are apt to say when we get into a little trouble; we want to die, and get away from it all. We say that we long to be with Christ, but I am afraid that it is often only a lazy wish to share the spoils of victory without fighting the battle, to receive the saints’ wages without doing the saints’ work, and to enter into heaven without the toils and dangers of the pilgrims’ way. Perhaps this has been the case with us sometimes when we have thought that our aspirations were of the best and holiest kind. When David prayed, “Lord, make me to know my end,” his prayer was not a very wise one, but the next sentences were not quite so foolish:—

4. And the measure of my days, what it is; that I may know how frail I am.

Oh, that we could all know how frail we are! But we count on living for years when we have scarcely any more minutes left; we think our life’s hour-glass is full when the sands have almost run out; and although the hand of God’s great clock may be on the striking point, we think our brief hour has only just begun.

5. Behold, you have made my days as a handbreadth;

This is a very common measurement, the breadth of the human hand; and David says that this span is the measurement of his life. Some here must surely have spent a great part of that handbreadth; let them and all of us be prepared to meet our God when that short span’s limit is reached.

5. And my age is as nothing before you:

It is an incalculably tiny speck when compared with the immeasurable age of the Eternal: “My age is as nothing before you.” When Alcibiades boasted of his great estates, the philosopher brought him a map of the world, and said to him, “Can you find your estates on this map?” Even Athens itself was only as a pin’s point; where, then, were the estates of Alcibiades? Nowhere to be seen. So, when we see the great map of eternity spread out before us, where is all of this world’s history? It is only a speck; and where, then, are your life and mine? They are as nothing before God.

5. Truly every man at his best state is altogether vanity. Selah.

Then what must he be at his worst state?

6. Surely every man walks in a vain show: surely they are disquieted in vain. {See Spurgeon_Sermons No. 2346, “Earth’s Vanities and Heaven’s Verities” 2347}

They fret, and fume, and flurry, and worry, and all about what? About nothing. We sometimes say, “It will be all the same a hundred years from now.” Ah! but it will be all the same much sooner than that, when the six feet of earth shall be all our inheritance.

6. He heaps up riches, and does not know who shall gather them.

“Remember,” says an old writer, “every time you do lock up your money in a box, how soon death shall lock you up in your coffin.” Some men seem to be like our children’s money boxes, into which money is put, but they must be broken before any can come out. To some men, how sad must be the thought that they have been accumulating wealth all their days, and they do not know for whom they have been gathering it! A stranger may, perhaps, inherit it; or if their own kith and kin shall get it, they may squander it just as thoroughly as the misers hoarded it.

7. And now, Lord,—

If all earthly things are nothing but emptiness,

7. What do I wait for?

“I wait for nothing here, for there is nothing here to wait for.”

7. My hope is in you.

Ah! this hope makes life worth living. Now that we hope in God; now that we know that there remains another and a better world than this world of shadows, life is invested with true solemnity.

8, 9. Deliver me from all my transgressions: do not make me the reproach of the foolish. I was dumb, I did not open my mouth; because you did it.

It is always a blessed reason for resignation when we can say of any bereavement or affliction, “The Lord has done it.” Shall he not do as he wishes with his own? Then let us say, with Job, “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

10-12. Remove your stroke away from me: I am consumed by the blow of your hand. When you with rebukes correct man for iniquity, you make his beauty to consume away like a moth: surely every man is vanity. Selah. Hear my prayer, oh LORD, and give ear to my cry; do not hold your peace at my tears:

Tears have always had great prevalence with God. Christ used these sacred weapons when, “with strong crying and tears,” he prayed to his Father in Gethsemane, “and was heard in that he feared.” Sinner, there is such potency in a penitent’s tears that you may prevail with God if you will come to him weeping over your sin, and pleading the precious blood of Christ. Your tears cannot merit heaven, or wash away your sins, but if you penitently grieve over them, and trust in the great atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ, your tearful prayers shall have a gracious answer of peace. Mr. Bunyan describes the City of Mansoul as sending Mr. Wet-Eyes as one of her ambassadors to the Prince Emmanuel, and he is still a most acceptable ambassador to the King of kings. He who knows how to weep his heart out at the foot of the cross shall not be long without finding mercy. Tears are diamonds that God loves to behold.

12. For I am a stranger with you, and a sojourner, as all my forefathers were.

“I am not a stranger to you, oh my God! Blessed be your holy name, I know you well; but ‘I am a stranger with you.’ You are a stranger in your own world, and so am I. The world does not know you, and the world does not know me; and when I act as you act, the world hates me even as it hates you.”

13. Oh spare me, that I may recover strength, before I go from here, and be no more.”

{a} It is remarkable that this Sermon, taken in the regular order of the unpublished manuscript, should be first available for reading on the last Sabbath in January, just nineteen years after Mr. Spurgeon’s home-going at Mentone a little before midnight on January 31st, 1892, at the age of fifty-seven. The Sermon intended for reading that day, No. 2241, “A Stanza of Deliverance,” was the second of only two which the beloved preacher had been able to revise during his last long illness. (The other one was No. 2237, “Gratitude for Deliverance from the Grave.”) On March 16th, this year, No. 3241 will (D. V.) be published, making one thousand Sermons issued since Mr. Spurgeon was called home. Will not regular readers of these peerless discourses help to make this fact known, and try even further to increase their circulation? The other Sermons then published, without any human prearrangement as for the order of selection, were so appropriate to the memorial month that new readers may like to procure the whole set including the last two revised by Mr. Spurgeon. They were as follows:—No. 2242, “God’s Will about the Future”; No. 2243. “His Own Funeral Sermon”; No. 2244, “Members of Christ”; and No. 2245, “Living, Loving, Lasting Union.” Any quantity of the Sermons, from No. 1 to No. 3234, price one penny each, can be obtained from Messrs. Marshall Brothers, Limited, Keswick House, 47, Paternoster Row, London, E. C., or from all booksellers and colporteurs.

C. H. Spurgeon’s Useful Books at Reduced Prices.

“Good Tidings Of Great Joy.” Christ’s Incarnation the Foundation of Christianity. “Central Truth Series.” Vol I. Cloth Boards. Published at 1s. 6d., offered at 1s.