“THE TIME IS SHORT.”

 

    DELIVERED BY C. H. SPURGEON,

 

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.

 

            “The time is short.” — 1 Corinthians 7:29.

 

THE text does not say that time is short. That would have been a true

statement. Compared with eternity, time, at the very longest, is but as a

pin’s point. But note what the text does say: “The time is short.” It is the

time of our life, the space of our opportunity, the little while we shall be

upon the present stage of action, that is short. It is narrow and contracted,

as the original implies “Behold,” saith the psalmist, “thou hast made my

days as a handbreath, and mine age is as nothing before thee.” Brief is the

season we have allotted to us, brethren, in which we can serve the Lord

our God.

 

This is a truth which everybody believes, knows, and confesses. It is trite

as a proverb on every tongue; yet how few of us act as if we believed it!

We are conscious of the precariousness of other people’s lives; but,

somehow or other, we persuade ourselves that our own time is not quite as

limited as theirs. We think we have “ample time and verge enough;” but we

wonder that our neighbors can be so careless and prodigal of days and

years, for we observe the wrinkles on their brows, we detect the grey hairs

on their heads, and perceive the auguries of death in their mien, and we

doubt not they will soon have to render in their account. “All men think all

men mortal but themselves,” is a “night-thought” that may well startle us,

as we rest from the business and the bustle, or the waste and wantonness of

each succeeding day. Why hide ye from yourselves the waning of your own

life-work, the weakening of your own strength, the weaving of your own

shrouds? As a creature, you are frail; as an inhabitant of the world, you are

exposed to casualties; as a man, there is an appointed time for you on

earth. You must be swept away by the receding tide; you must go with the

rest of your generation.

 

Ask an angel what he thinks of the life of a mortal, and he will tell you that

he remembers when the first man was made, and since then the earth has

been ever changing its tenants. Peradventure he is baffled to recall the races

that have come and gone in countless succession. For a little while, they

floated on the surface, then they sank beneath the stream. At first, they

struggled on through centuries; but, after that, they failed, any one of them,

to attain a tenth of that pristine age. “Short-lived!” saith the angel, “they

seem to me as leaves upon a tree, as insects on the earth, as flies in the air.

Like the grass that flourisheth in the meadows, scarcely have I gazed upon

them ere they are cut down, withered, and gone.” Oh, if you never meet

with an angel to interrogate him, talk familiarly with one of the trees of an

ancient forest. Ask what it has seen; and, though it cannot speak in tones

articulate, you can lend it a tongue, and it will tell you that hundreds of

years have passed, and history has accumulated, from the time when it was

an acorn, till now it covers a wide space with its far-spreading foliage. Yes,

the oak and elm can tell us that man is but an infant of to-day. Would you

rather take counsel of your fellow-creatures? Then ask the old man what

he thinks of life. He will tell you that, when he was a boy, he thought he

had a vast length of time before him. So heavily did the days hang on his

hands that he played the hours away, and was glad when birthdays told of

the years that were gone. It was his strong desire, and his panting ambition,

to break loose from the moorings of childhood, and launch out into the

great wide sea of turmoil and enterprise; but now he looks back on these

seventy years, that have been gradually accumulating, as a dream. Through

all the fitful stages of life’s journey, time present is always perplexing; it

must be past before it is understood. It seems to him only as yesterday

when he left his father’s roof to be an apprentice. He remembers it

distinctly, and fondly tells you of some quaint thing that happened in those

olden times. How short a while since the bells rang out his marriage peal,

and now his children have reached their manhood, and his children’s

children climb upon his knee, and call him “grandfather.” Yet he

remembers when, as it were but yesterday, he was himself a little child, and

his grandsire clasped him to his bosom. My venerable friends, you will bear

witness that I do not exaggerate when I speak thus; my language is only

the feeble expression of a forcible experience. You can realize more vividly

than I can paint the sensation of looking back over the entire span of threescore

years and ten; to the stripling, this appears a very long period, while

to you it merely seems as a watch in the night.

 

And yet, perhaps, there are among you some hoary veterans, some elderly

matrons, who need to be reminded that “the time is short.”

Present health and activity may tempt you to forget that nature, in your

case, stands upon the verge of her confines. What if your frame be strong;

what if the bloom still lingers on your checks? You have nearly reached the

goal, the allotted term that mortals cannot pass. I have seen fine days, in

autumn, when the air was soft as in balmy spring; but they gave no promise

of another summer. I knew the season was too far advanced for winter to

delay its approach much longer. So, you, my aged friend, be sure that the

hour of your departure is drawing near. Should five, or even ten years

more be granted to you, how quickly they must pass when seventy by-gone

years have so rapidly fled! The remnant of your days will surely cover little

space when the whole compass of your life has stretched over so small an

area. Be parsimonious of minutes now, though you may have been, at one

time, prodigal of years. At the fag-end of life, you have no time to parley

and postpone; to resolve, and yet to trifle with resolutions; to waste and

squander golden opportunities. “The time is short.”

 

But to estimate this truth aright, we may well turn from the cycles that

angels have witnessed, the centuries that trees have flourished, and the

seasons that have come and gone in the memory of our grandsires, to

consider “the years of the right hand of the Most High.” Enquire at the

mouth of the Lord; take counsel of the eternal God. Remember how it is

written, “A thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past,

and as a watch in the night.” “One day is with the Lord as a thousand

years, and a thousand years as one day.” “He sitteth upon the circle of the

earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers,” ephemera, insects

of an hour, compared with him. Like the grass we spring up, and like the

grass we are mowed down. Compared with the lifetime of the Eternal,

what is our life? Nay, there is no comparison; it is almost too insignificant

for contrast. “My days are like a shadow that declineth, and I am withered

like grass. But thou, O Lord, shalt endure for ever; and thy remembrance

unto all generations.” I wish I had the power to impress this truth on every

heart. As I have not, I shall try to point the moral it suggests, and pray that

the Spirit of God may seal the instruction upon every, heart.

 

“The time is short,” so, first, it warns; next, it suggests; then, it inspires;

and, lastly, it alarms.

 

I. First, IT WARNS. If ye knew the sterling worth of time, ye would shrink

from the smallest waste of so precious a thing. Fools say that time is long,

but only fools talk like that. They say that “time is made for slaves.” He

alone is a free man who knows how to use his time properly; and he is a

slave indeed who finds it slavery to pursue his calling with a good

conscience, and serve his God with diligence, fidelity, and zeal. Knowing

that “the time is short,” you and I have not an hour to squander upon

unprofitable amusements. There are some diversions which afford a respite

from the incessant strain of labor and anxiety, and are profitable to

strengthen the mind, and brace up the nerves. These are not only allowable,

they are fit and proper; but while recreation is both needful and expedient

to keep the mental and physical powers in working order, we can give no

countenance to such dissipation as tends rather to enervate than to

invigorate the constitution. Popular taste displays its own perverseness in

seeking to extract pleasure from folly and vice. Fashion lends its sanction

to many a pastime that ill becomes any wise, rational, intelligent person;

but the Christian, in his relaxations, must seek healthy impulse, and avoid

baneful stimulant. “The time is short;” we cannot afford to lose it in

senseless talk, idle gossip, or domestic scandals.

 

Nor can we afford to plan a round of empty frivolities to while away an

afternoon or an evening, as the manner of some is. Our time is too precious

to be frittered away in formal calls and punctilious visits. Well might

Cotton Mather complain of the intrusion of a certain person, who had

called to see him, as people will call on ministers, as though their time was

of no importance. “I would sooner have given that man a handful of

money,” said he, “than that he should have thus wasted my time.” You

count it a little thing to trespass on our minutes, but in so doing you may

spoil our hours. Whether you think so, or not, it is often distracting to us

to be troubled with trivial things in the midst of our sacred engagements.

We may be called from an absorbing study, we may be rudely interrupted

when our knees are bent, and our heart is being lifted up to God in

intercession; we may have our minds drawn from the weightiest matters to

listen to the most frivolous observations. It is said of Henry Martyn that he

never wasted an hour. I wish it could be said of us, that we wasted neither

an hour of our own time, nor an hour of other people’s time. Brethren, the

time is too short to make a desire for friendly intercourse an excuse for

frothy conversation. It requires no stretch of imagination to picture to

ourselves two men, who are both believers in the Lord Jesus Christ, “called

to be saints,” and accounted faithful, meeting in a room, and greeting each

other as friends. They will surely have something choice to talk about. All

heaven is full of God’s glory, and the earth is full of his riches. There is

range enough for thought, for speech, for profitable converse. Listen

awhile. One observes that the weather is very cold. “Yes,” says the other,

the frost is still very sharp.” There they stick; they have nothing further to

say till, presently, one of them remarks, “It will be rather slippery travelling

to-night;” to which comes the reply, “I daresay many horses will fall

down.” And are these the men of whom Peter testifies that they are

redeemed, with the precious blood of Christ, from their vain conversation,

received by tradition from their fathers? Are these the men who have been

made partakers of the Holy Ghost? Is this frivolity becoming to the heirs of

heavens. Yet thus, often, is precious time squandered, and the faculty of

speech abused. There is an ancient prophecy which I should love to see

fulfilled in modern history. In “David’s Psalm of Praise,” (only one Psalm,

the 145th, is so entitled,) he says, “All thy works shall praise thee, O Lord;

and thy saints shall bless thee. They shall speak of the glory of thy

kingdom, and talk of thy power; to make known to the sons of men his

mighty acts, and the glorious majesty of his kingdom.” By such converse as

that, beloved, you might “redeem the time” in these evil days; but you are

afraid of being charged with cant, or with pushing your religion a little too

far. Brethren, it is high time we had a little more of such cant, and that we

did push religion a little farther than has been our wont; for golden

opportunities are lost, and profitable interchange of holy thought is

lamentably neglected. In days of yore, “they that feared the Lord spake

often one to another; and the Lord hearkened, and heard it.” Not much of

this prevails now among professing Christians. Little enough is said that is

worth men’s hearing, much less worth God’s hearing; and if he did hear it,

instead of putting it down in “a book of remembrance,” and saying, “They

shall be mine,” surely, in his infinite mercy, he would forbear to record the

vain thoughts and empty words which could only be a stigma upon their

characters. By the brevity of time, then, and by the rapidity of its flight, I

admonish you to refrain from all abuses of the tongue. Do invest each hour

in some profitable manner; that, when past, it may not be lost. Let your lips

be a fountain from which all streams that flow shall savor of grace and

goodness.

 

The time, moreover, is much too short for recision and vacillation. Your

resolving and retracting, your planning and scheming, your sleeping and

dreaming, your starting up from slumber only to sink down into a drowsier

state than before, are a mockery of life, and a willful murder of time. Of

how many of you is it true that, if ever you did entertain a noble purpose,

you never found a convenient season to carry it out. On the verge of

conversion, sometimes, you have halted till your convictions have grown

cold. Ten or twenty years ago, you listened to the appeal, “My son, give

me thine heart;” and you answered, “I will;” but, to this day, you have

never fulfilled your word. “Go work in my vineyard,” said the Master. “I

go, Lord,” was your prompt reply; yet you have never gone. To-day, as

aforetime, you stand idling. Some of you, indeed, were in a more hopeful

condition thirty or forty years ago than you are at present. What account

can you give of yourselves? What has become of those intervening years?

The infinite mercy of God has kept you out of hell, but there is no

guarantee that his longsuffering will shield you from destruction another

instant. O sirs, “the time is short,” the business urgent the crisis imminent!

Tis madness to be halting between two opinions. If God be God, serve

him; and if not, take the alternative, and serve Baal. Let your mind be made

up, one way or the other, without another moment’s delay. How long halt

ye between two opinions?

 

And you Christian people, with your grand illusive projects, how they melt

away! Some of you would have done a great deal that is useful by now if

you had not dreamed of doing so much that is imposing. Oh, what

wonderful plans for evangelizing London, for converting the whole

Continent of Europe to Christ, float in the brain, or evaporate in a speech,

and nothing is done! We are like a certain Czar of Russia, of olden times,

who always wanted to take a second step before he took the first. We are

always projecting some wonderful scheme that proves too wonderful ever

to be carried out. So we dream of what ought to be, and should be; of

what might be, and as we hope may be. Such “dreams are the children of

an idle brain.” The dreamers grow listless, and nothing is done. In the name

of the eternal God, I beseech you, if you love him, get to work for him.

Better slay a single enemy than dream of slaughtering an army. Better that

you sow a single, grain of corn or plant a single blade of grass, than dream

about fertilizing the Sahara, or reclaiming from the mighty sea untold acres

of fertile land. Do something, sirs, do something. It is high time to awake

out of sleep, for “the time is short.”

 

This thought may serve to warn us against another folly; that of

speculating upon the points of controversial theology. You know how the

schoolmen used to debate and wrangle about how many angels could stand

on the point of a needle, and with many other propositions, no less absurd,

did they weary themselves. Strangely indeed was the ingenuity of men

taxed to find subjects for discussion in the dark days of those dull doctors

of learning. There is something of that spirit abroad even now; ministers

will devote whole sermons to the discussion of some crotchet or quibble

that does not signify the turn of a hair to anybody in the universe. I have

generally noticed that, the less important the point is, the more savagely

will some persons defend it, as if the world might go to rack and ruin, and

all the sinners in it go blindfold to perdition, and the work of salvation must

stand still to have this point discussed. One brother, who meets me

occasionally, can never be five minutes in my company, but what he attacks

me upon the question of free agency and predestination; I told him, the last

time I saw him, that I would have it out with him one of these days, but I

must defer it till after the day of judgment, for I was too busy to talk about

it just now. And I feel like that about a great many questions. There are

brethren who can fully explain the Book of Revelation, though I generally

find that they exclaim one against the other, till they declaim each other off

the face of the earth. But I would sooner be able to proclaim the cross of

Christ, and explain the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, than to

decipher the imagery of Ezekiel, or the symbols of the Apocalypse. Blessed

is he who can expound the mysteries. I have no doubt about his

blessedness, but I am perfectly satisfied with another blessedness, namely,

if I can bring sinners to Jesus, and teach the saints some practical truths

which may guide them in daily life. It seems to me that the Lime is much

too short to go up in a balloon with speculations, or to go down into the

mines of profound thought, to bring up some odds and ends and scraps of

singular knowledge. We want to save souls, and to conduct them to that

heaven where God’s presence makes eternal day. This seems to me to be

the pressing demand upon us now that “the time is short,” and “the night

cometh when no man can work.”

 

Let this also admonish us, brethren, to singleness of purpose. We must

have only one aim. Had we plenty of time, we might try two or three

schemes at once, though even then we should most probably fail for want

of concentrating our energies; but as we have very little time, we had better

economize it by attending to one thing. The man who devotes all his

thought and strength to the accomplishment of one reasonable object is

generally successful. My soul, bend thyself down, and lay thyself out for

the glory of God; be this the one aim of thy entire being. Form your

friendships, and order your occupations, so as to fulfill this first and highest

duty of life. Be it your one sole motive to live for his honor, and, if

necessary, even to die to promote his renown among the sons of men.

“Present your bodies a living sacrifice.” Attune your souls to the great

Hallelujah: “While I live will I bless the Lord; I will sing praises unto my

God while I have my being. Let everything that hath breath praise the

Lord. Praise ye the Lord.” O brethren, this sublime enthusiasm will work

wonders! You dissipate your strength and fritter away your opportunities

by dividing your attention. You say that you want to be a Christian;

meanwhile, your heart is set upon getting riches, you seek to store your

mind with the learning and wisdom of the world, you wish to gain repute

as a good talker in company, and a convivial guest at the social board.

Ambition prompts you to seek fame among your fellows. Very well, I shall

not denounce any one of these things; but I would use every persuasive to

induce you who are believers in Christ to renounce the world. If Christ has

bought you with his blood, and redeemed you from this present evil world,

he has henceforth a claim on you as his servant, and it is at your peril that,

you take up with any pursuits that are inconsistent with a full surrender of

yourself to him. You belong to him; so live wholly to him. The reason why

the majority of Christians never attain to any eminence in the divine life, is

because they let the floods of their life run away in a dozen little, trickling

rivulets, whereas, if they cooped them up into one channel, and sent that

one stream rolling on to the glory of God, there would be such a force and

power about their character, their thoughts, their efforts, and their actions,

that they would really “live while they lived.”

 

II. “The time is short. THIS SUGGESTS.

Do you know what reflection this fact suggested to me? “Surely, then,”

thought I, “I have some opportunity to follow out the work of faith, the

patience of hope, and the labor of love, though not the opportunity I once

had.” Then, picturing to myself an ideal of a short life all used, nothing

wasted, all consecrated, nothing profaned, I seemed to see a boy giving his

young heart to Christ. I saw the lad believing in Jesus while yet beneath his

father’s roof, and under his mother’s care. No sooner saved himself than he

began at once to serve God after a boy’s way, and still increasing in

intelligence and energy as a stripling, and afterwards as a young man, from

the first he devoted himself, with all the intensity of his being, to his Lord’s

service. So diligent and persevering was he that he lost no time. So

jealously did he watch his own heart, and so far was he from falling into

sin, that there were no dreary intervals spent in wandering and backsliding,

and retracing his steps in repenting of the evil, in getting lukewarm, and

then rekindling former ardor. With my mind’s eye, I followed that young

man living a holy life through a succession of years, getting up to the

highest possible platform of spirituality, and keeping there, and all the

while blessed with such abundance of the graces and gifts of the Spirit of

God as should make him-bring forth much fruit to the glory of the Father,

do much for the honor of Jesus, prove a great blessing to the Church, bear

a rich testimony to the world, and diffuse saving benefits to the souls of

men.

 

This was my ideal of a vessel “meet for the Master’s use.” I lingered

lovingly upon it. The child became a man. His life was brief; it was soon

over. Our days on earth are as a shadow; but happily, they may be radiant,

and leave a trail of light behind them. NIGHT not even God himself look

down, with a measure of admiration, from his eternal dwelling-place on the

career I have sketched. The slender threads of fleeting moments are

worked up to the goodly fabric of a complete biography. Endowed with

one talent, This and that endowment sparse; the gift so prized as to be

economized; so looked after that it is never squandered, so usefully

employed that its judicious expenditure can never be vainly regretted: so

profitably invested that the faithful steward welcomes the advent of his

Lord, ready and anxious to give in his account. This is as I would wish to

be. Some of you, who are unconverted can never hope to receive the

greeting that awaits such a faithful servant of the Lord Jesus Christ. You

have lost your golden opportunity; you have wasted your substance in

riotous living. But are there not children here to whom this is possible, and

youths who might convert my day-dream into a narrative? Oh for men and

women with the ambition, and one enterprise, to glorify the Lord! Ardently

do I desire that God should be glorified in me, and that not in a small

measure. I have prayed, and I do pray him to make the most he can make

of me, to do it anyhow. What if to this end, I must be cast into the furnace

of action, and suffer for his sake: What if my honor should be trampled in

the dust, and my name become a hissing and a by-word, and a reproach

among the sons of men, while the witness of my integrity is on high? Here

am I, O Lord, to do aught, to bear aught, that thou shalt bid! Only do get

as much glory to thine own name as can be got out of such a poor creature

as I am. Who will join me in this petition? Vows made in our own strength

are vain; but I solemnly charge each Christian young man to foster this

aspiration. In the name of him who has redeemed you with his blood, gird

up the loins of your mind, and survey the course you have to run. Prepare

for the good fight of faith, in which you are to engage. Live to the utmost

possible consecration of your entire manhood in its triple nature, spirit,

soul, and body. Yield yourself up unreservedly to the Lord Jesus Christ.

Do not stop to parley. “The time is short;” therefore “whatsoever thy hand

findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor

knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave whither thou goest.”

 

III. “The time is short.” THIS INSPIRES US.

 

It ought to fire us with zeal for immediate action. The sun hastens on, the

sands run down. “Now is the accepted time.” Let those who love the Lord

be prompt. The time to do the deeds that thou must do, or leave them

undone, flies swiftly past. Say not, “I will do this by-and-by.” Do it at once.

Other duties await thee; brief is the space allotted thee for all. Are your

children converted? Pray with them to-night. Let not to-morrow come

without putting your arms about their necks, and kneeling down with them

devoutly, and praying fervently that God would save their souls. It is the

Kings business, and it demands haste. “The time is short” for others as well

as for yourself. A dear brother told me, a week or two ago, that a man,

who worked for him frequently, brought in goods when they were finished;

and he thought that the next time the man came in, he would speak to him

about his soul. When he came, however, business absorbed the employer’s

attention, and the man passed away. He felt, he did not know exactly why,

pricked in his conscience, and resolved that, on the next occasion, he

would enquire as to his eternal interests; but he was too late. Instead of

coming again, a messenger brought tidings that he was dead. Startled by

the news, our brother could find no comfort in regrets, though he bewailed

as one who could not forgive himself a hundred wasted opportunities in the

presence of one keen self-reproach. Oh, that an inspiration would constrain

you to serve the Lord now! Every time the clock ticks, it seems to say

now.” The time is so short that the matter is urgent. Do not wait, young

man, to preach Jesus till you have had more instruction; begin at once.

You, who mean to do something for the poor of London when you have

hoarded up more money, spend your money now; do it at once. You, who

mean to leave a large sum to charities when you die, defer it not; be your

own executors. Lay out the capital at once; get some joy and comfort out

of it yourselves. Now is the time to carry a good purpose into good effect.

Before you were saved, the message to you was, “To-day, if ye will hear

his voice, harden not your heart.” After you are saved, the message to you

is, “To-day, obey his voice, and serve the Lord your God with all your

heart, and mind, and soul, and strength.” “The time is short,” so make the

most of it.

 

“The time is short.” I want to ring this sentence louder and louder in your

ears, that it may inspire you to pray for immediate conversions. I have met

with many who are hoping to get converted some day, but not now. Is not

such procrastination perilous? Dare any of you run the risk of wilfully

abiding in unbelief another hour? Can you brook the thought of remaining

month after month in jeopardy of your soul? Is it safe to tempt the Lord,

and provoke the anger of the Most High? O sirs, while you flatter

yourselves with pleasing prospects, you are beguiling your hearts with a

reckless presumption! We want you to be converted, and no time can be

more suitable than this present time. Forsake your sin immediately. Do not

turn back to dally with it a little longer. Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,

and lay hold on the promise of eternal life, without any further delay. You

may never see another morrow, or the desire that whets your appetite now

may fail you then This is our prayer, that you may, this very hour, be

brought into the fold of Christ.

 

Then seeing that “the time is short,” let us bear with patience the ills that

vex us. Are we very poor? “The time is short.” Does the bitter cold pierce

through our scanty garments? “The time is short.” Is consumption

beginning to prey on our trembling frame?

 

“The time is short.” Are we unkindly treated by our kinsfolk? Do our

comrades revile, and our neighbors mock us? “The time is short.” Have we

to bear evil treatment from an ungenerous world? “The time is short.” Do

cruel taunts try our tempers? “The time is short.” We are travelling at

express speed, and shall soon be beyond the reach of all the incidents and

accidents that disturb and distract us. As we travel home to our Father’s

house, the distance diminishes, and we begin to sight the city of the

blessed, “the home over there.” It is needless to murmur or repine; why

trouble yourselves about what you will do a month or two hence? You may

not be here; you may be in heaven. Your eyes will have beheld “the King in

his beauty,” you will have seen “the land that is very far off.”

 

“The way may be rough, but it cannot be long;

So smooth it with hope, and cheer it with song.”

 

Worldly-mindedness ill becomes us who have confessed that we are

strangers and pilgrims on the earth.” “The time is short” in which we can

hold any possessions in this terrestrial sphere. Then let us not love anything

here below too fondly. We brought nothing into the world, and it is certain

we can carry nothing out. Survey your broad acres, but remember that you

will no long be able to walk across them. Look on your plenteous crops,

but ere long another shall reap the profit of those fields. Count your gold

and silver, but know that wealth, greedily as it is sought, will not give you

present immunity from sickness and sorrow, neither will it secure your

welfare when called to quit your frail tenement. Trust in the living God.

Love the Lord, and let eternal things absorb your thoughts and engage

your affections. “The time is short: it remaineth, that both they that have

wives be as though they had none; and they that weep, as though they wept

not; and they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not; and they that use

this world, as not abusing it: for the fashion of this world passeth away.”

Are these gloomy reflections? Nay, dear brethren, the fact that “the time is

shortshould inspire us, who are of the household of faith, with the most

joyous expectations. Do you really believe in the everlasting kingdom of

our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ? Do you really believe that your head is

to wear a crown of life that fadeth not away? Do you really believe that

these feet of yours, all shod with silver sandals, will stand upon that street

of pure gold? Do you really believe that these hands shall pluck celestial

fruits from trees whose leaves can never wither, and that you shall lie down

in the spice-beds in the gardens of the blessed? Do you believe that these

eyes shall see the King in that day when he comes in his glory, and that

these bones shall rise again from the grave, and your bodies shall be

endowed with an incorruptible existence? “Yes,” say you, “we do believe

it, and believe it intensely, too.” Well, then, I would that ye realized it as so

very near that you were expectant of its fulfillment. Who would cry and

fret about the passing troubles of a day when he saw the heavens open,

beheld the beckoning hand, and heard the voice that called him hence? Oh,

that the glory might come streaming into your soul till you forget the

darkness of the way! Oh, that the breeze from these goodly mountains

would fan you! Oh, that the spray from that mighty ocean would refresh

you! Oh, that the music of those bells of heaven in yonder turrets would

enliven you! Then would ye speed your way towards the rest that

remaineth for the people of God, inspired with sacred ardor and dauntless

courage. But the ungodly are not so. It is to them I must address the last

word, “The time is short.”

 

IV. THIS ALARMS US; and well it may, on their account. Let me toll a

knell. It is a dismal knell I have to toll for the unconverted man, to whom

life has been a joy, for he has prospered in the world. You have succeeded

in the enterprise on which you set your heart. You have bought the estate

that you longed to secure. It is a fine place certainly; but you have only got

it for two or three years! Would I have taken it for that term? No, I would

not have taken it on a nine hundred and ninety-nine years’ lease. Freeholds

for me! Did I say two or three years? Nay, there is not a man, beneath the

sun, who can guarantee that you will hold it for three weeks. “The time is

short.” Drive down the broad avenue, walk round the park; look into the

old feudal mansion; but “the time is short,” very short, and your tenure

very limited. You have gained your object, you are possessed of real

property; what next? Why, make your will. The thing is urgent. “The time

is short.” But what have you not done? You have not believed in Christ;

you have not embraced the gospel; you have not found salvation, you have

not laid hold on eternal life; you have not a hope to solace you when your

strength fails, and you pant for breath. How few the opportunities that

remain! Some of you have attended my ministry all the while I have been in

London; I wonder how much longer you will hear me, and yet remain

unsaved. Your turn to die will come at length. You ail a little, your trifling

indisposition does not yield to treatment; the symptoms grow serious, the

disease is dangerous, your death is imminent. Pain unnerves you; terror

distracts you. Your family and your friends look at you with helpless pity.

The doctor has just left you in dismay. Send for the priest, or fetch the

parson; but what can they do for you unless you believe in Jesus? ‘Tis

over, the last struggle! Then picture yourself to yourself, a lost spirit,

asking for a drop of water to cool your tongue! That will be your portion,

sinner, unless you repent. Bethink you, sirs, there is but a step between you

and death, a short step between you and hell, unless you believe in Jesus.

Do you still imagine that there is time enough and to spare? beseech you,

do not cherish so vain a thought. It may be that you suspect me of

exaggerating; that I cannot do in such a case as this. Time is rushing on,

swiftly but silently. While I speak, the minutes pass, the hour is soon gone,

the day is almost spent. I charge you, then, by the ever-blessed Spirit, listen

now to the warning; escape from sin; get out of that broad road which

pearls to destruction; believe in Jesus; lay hold on eternal life. May the

Spirit of God arouse you! May these words be blessed to you! They should

be put more forcibly if I knew how. With all the fervor of my soul, I entreat

you, for I know your everlasting interests are in imminent jeopardy. God

grant that you may not linger longer, lest haply you linger too long, and

perish in your lingering! “The time is short.”

 

In a little while, there will be a great concourse of people in the streets.

Methinks I hear someone enquiring, “What are all these people waiting

for?” “Do you not know? He is to be buried today.” “And who is that?” “It

is Spurgeon.” “What! the man that preached at the Tabernacle?” “Yes; he

is to be buried today.” That will happen very soon; and when you see my

coffin carried to the silent grave, I should like every one of you, whether

converted or not, to be constrained to say, “He did earnestly urge us, in

plain and simple language, not to put off the consideration of eternal

things. He did entreat us to look to Christ. Now he is gone, our blood is

not at his door if we perish.” God grant that you may not have to bear the

bitter reproach of your own conscience! But, as I feel that “the time is

short,” I will stir you up so long as I am in this Tabernacle; and I do pray

the Lord to bless the word every time I preach it from this platform. Oh,

that some souls may be saved, that Jesus Christ may be glorified, Satan

defeated, and heaven filled with saved ones!

 

“’Tis not for man to trifle! Life is brief;

And sin is here.

Our age is but the falling of a leaf,

A dropping tear.

We have no time to sport away the hours

All must be earnest in a world like ours.

“Not many lives, but only one, have we, —

Frail, fleeting man:

How saved should that one life ever be, —

That narrow span!

Day after day filled up with blessed toil,

Hour after hour still bringing in new spoil.”