as I could wish; my crying out is a feeble one.” Well, when you pour out
water it does not make much noise. So you can pour out your heart prayer
uttered in a garret that nobody has heard—but stop! Gabriel heard it;
God himself heard it. There is many a cry down in a cellar, or up in a garret,
or some lonely place where the cobbler sits mending his shoes beneath a
window, whic the world does not hear, but the Lord hears it. Pour out your
heart like water. How does water run out? The quickest way it can; that’s all.
It never stops much about how it runs. That is the way the Lord loves
to have it. Some of your gentry offer prayers which are poured out drop after
brop, and must be brought to a grand, ecclesiastical, prayer-book shape. Now,
take your heart and pour it out like water. “What!” says one, “with all the
oaths in it?” Yes. “With all my old sins in it?” Yes. Pour out your heart
like water; pour it out by confessing all your sins; pour it out by begging
the Lord to have mercy upon you for Christ’s sake; pour it out like water. And
when it is all poured out, he will come and fill it again with “wine on the
lees, well refined.” “Arise, cry out in the night; in the beginning of the
watches pour out thine heart like water before the face of the Lord.”
Thus do I speak to all who will acknowledge themselves to be sinners in the sight of God, but even these must have the assistance of the Holy Spirit to enable them to cry out, O my Lord, grant it.
And now, dear friends, may grace be given unto you, that ye may be able to pour out your hearts this night! Remember, my hearers, it may seem a light thing for us to assemble to-night at such an hour, but listen for one moment to the ticking of that clock! [Here the preacher paused, and amid solemn silence every one heard the clock with its tick, tick, tick.] It is the beating of the pulse of eternity. You hear the ticking of that clock!—it is the footstep of death
pursuing you. Each time the clock ticks, death’s footsteps are falling on the ground close behind you. You will soon enter another year. This year will have gone in a few seconds. 1855 is almost gone; where will the next year be spent, my friends? One has been spent on earth; where will you spend the next? “In heaven!” says one, “I trust.” Another murmurs, “Perhaps I shall spend mine in hell!” Ah! solemn is the thought, but before that clock strikes 12, some here may be in hell; and blessed be
the name of God! some of us may be in heaven! But O, do you know how to estimate your time, my hearers? do you know how to measure your days? Oh! I have not words to speak to-night. Do you know that every hour you are nearing the tomb? that every hour you are nearing judgment? that the archangel is flapping his wings every second of your life, and, trumpet at his mouth, is approaching you? that you do not live stationary lives, but always going on, on, on, towards the grave? Do you know where
the stream of life is hastening some of you? To the rapids—to the rapids of woe and destruction! What shall the end of those be who obey not the gospel of God? Ye will not have so many years to live as ye had last year! See the man who has but a few shillings in his pocket, how he takes them out and spends them one by one! Now he has but a few coppers, and there is so much for that tiny candle, so much for that piece of bread. He counts the articles out one by one; and so the money goes! You
think there is no bottom to your pockets; you think you have a boundless store of time—but you have not! As the Lord liveth, there is a young man here that has not more than one year to live; and yet he is spending all that he is worth of time, in sin, in folly, and vice. Some of you have not that to live; and yet how are you spending your time! O take care! take care! time is precious! and whenever we have little of it, it is more precious; yea, it is most precious. May God help you to
escape from hell and fly to heaven! I feel like the angel, to-night, who put his hand upon Lot, and cried—“Escape! look not behind thee! stay not in all the plain; flee to the mountain, lest thou be consumed!”
And now, I appreciate the power of silence. You will please to observe strict and solemn silence until the striking of that clock; and let each one spend the time as he pleases. [It was now two minutes to twelve, and profound silence reigned, save where sobs and groans could be distinctly heard from penitent lips seeking the Saviour. The clock having struck, Mr Spurgeon continued:] You are now where you never were before; and you never will be again where you have been
to-night.
Now we have had a solemn meeting, and let us have a cheerful ending of it. As we go away let us sing a sweet hymn to encourage our hearts.
[A hymn was then sung]
Now may the Lord bless you, and lift up the light of his countenance upon you, and give you peace! May you, during this year of grace; receive much grace; and may you proceed onwards towards heaven! And may we as a church, as members of churches, as ministers, as deacons, mutually strive together for the faith of Jesus, and be edified therein! And may the Lord save the ungodly! If the last year is clean gone and they are not yet pardoned and forgiven, let not another year
roll away without their finding mercy!
The Lord dismiss you all with his sweet blessing, for his blessed Son’s sake, Amen. And may the love of Jesus Christ, the grace of his Father, and the fellowship of his blessed Spirit be yours, my beloved, if ye know Christ, world without end. Amen.
Now, my friends, in the highest and best sense, I wish you all a happy new year.