Lord will provide, and friends far away may be moved to assist us. I want still more aid, for the field is ripe and we want more harvest men to reap it. It grows, the thing grows, every day it increases, it started but as a little flake of snow, and now like an avalanche it sweeps the Alps' sides bare before its tremendous force. I would not now that ye should prove unworthy of the day in which ye live, or the work to which God has called us as a Church. Four Churches of Christ have sprung of our loins in one year, and the next year shall it not be the same, and the next, and the next, if the Holy Ghost be with us, and He has promised to be with us if we be with Him.

Now, in regard to the particular effort at Wandsworth, for which a collection is to be made. When I was sore sick some three years or more ago, I walked about to recover strength, and walking through the town of Wandsworth, I thought "How few attend a place of worship here. Here are various Churches, but there is ample room for one of our own faith and order, something must be done." I thought "If I could start a man here preaching the Word, what good might be done." The next day, some four friends from the town called to see me, one a Baptist, and the three others were desirous of baptism, "Would I come there and form a Church?" We took the large rooms at a tavern, and preaching has been carried on there ever since. Beginning with four, the Church has increased to one hundred and fifty. I have greatly aided the interest by going there continually and preaching and helping to support the minister. Now, a beautiful piece of ground has been taken, and a chapel is to be erected, and I firmly believe there will be a very strong cause raised. We have many rising Churches, but this one has just come to such a point, that a house of prayer is absolutely needed. I should not have asked you for this aid so soon, but the rooms in which they worship are now continually used for concerts on Saturday evenings, and are not altogether agreeable on the Sunday. I would just as soon worship in one place as another, for my own part, but I see various difficulties are now in the way, which a new chapel will remove. I hope you will help them in so doing, help me in the earnest effort of my soul to hold forth the word of life, and to let Christ's kingdom come and his will be done.

You that feel no desire to honour the Master-you that care nothing for the spread of his kingdom-you that are satisfied to hold your heads down, and not boast and glory in him-stand back and assist us not; but you who would help his kingdom-you who love his name-you who are the debtors of his grace-help the cause everywhere, and help it this day. For Christ's sake I ask it of you, and you will not deny me.

GOOD NEWS FOR YOU.

A Sermon

DELIVERED ON SUNDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 5TH, 1862, BY
REV. C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.

"But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was."-Luke x. 33. THE good Samaritan is a masterly picture of true benevolence. The Samaritan had no kinship with the Jew, he was purely of foreign origin, yet he pities his poor neighbour. The Jews cursed the Cuthites, and would have no dealings with them, for they were intruders in their land. There was nothing therefore, in the object of the Samaritan's pity that could excite his national sympathies, but everything to arouse his prejudices, hence the grandeur of his benevolence.

It is not my intention this morning, to indicate the delightful points of excellence which Christ brings out in order to illustrate what true charity will perform. I want you only to notice this one fact, that the benevolence which the Samaritan exhibited towards this poor wounded and half-dead man, was available benevolence. He did not say to him, "If you will walk to Jericho, then I will bind up your wounds, pouring in the oil and wine;" or, "If you will journey with me as far as Jerusalem, I will then attend to your wants." Oh, no, he came "where he was," and finding that he could do nothing whatever for his own assistance, the good Samaritan began with him there and then upon the spot, putting no impossible conditions to him, proposing no stipulations which the man could not perform, but doing everything for the man, and doing it for him as he was and where he was.

Beloved, we are all quite aware that a charity of which a man cannot avail himself, is no charity at all. Go among the operatives of Lancashire, and tell them that there is no necessity for any of them to starve, for on the top of Mt. St. Bernard there are hospitable monks who keep a refectory, where they relieve all passers-by; tell them they have nothing to do but to journey to the top of the Alps, and there they will find food enough. Poor souls! they feel that you mock them, for the distance is too great. Penetrate one of our back streets, climb up three pair of stairs into a wretched room, so dilapidated that the stars look between the tiles, see a poor young girl dying of consumption and poverty, tell her if you dare, "If you could get to the sea-side, and if you could eat so much beef-steak, you would no doubt recover." You are shamefully laughing at her-she cannot get these things-they are

beyond her reach: she cannot journey to the seaside-she would die ere she reached it. Like the wicked, your tender mercies are cruel. I have noticed this unavailing charity in hard winters. People give away bread and soup tickets to poor people, who are to give sixpence, and then receive soup and bread; and often I have had persons come to me-"Sir, I have a ticket; it would be worth a great deal to me, if I had sixpence to go with to get the relief; but I have not a farthing in all the world, and I cannot make out the good of giving me this ticket at all." This is hardly charity. Think you see Jeremiah, down in the low dungeon: if Ebed-melech and Baruch had stood over the top of the dungeon, and called out to him, "Jeremiah, if you will get half way up, we will pull you out," when there was not a ladder, nor any means by which he could possibly get so far, how cruel would have been this charity; but, instead thereof, they took old rags from under the king's treasury, and put them on ropes, and bade him put the rags under his armholes, and sling his arms through the ropes, and then they pulled him up all the way. This was available charity; the other would have been hypocritical pretence. Brethren, if in the description of a good Samaritan, Christ hits him off to the life, as giving to this poor wounded man a charity of which he could avail himself, does it not seem to be strongly probable-nay, even certain that when Christ comes to deal with sinners, he gives them available mercy-grace which may be of real service to them.

Hence, permit me to say, I do not believe in the way in which some people pretend to preach the gospel. They have no gospel for sinners as sinners, but only for those who are above the dead level of sinnership, and are technically styled sensible sinners. Like the priest in this parable; they see the poor sinner, and they say, "He is not conscious of his need, we cannot invite him to Christ;" "He is dead," they say, "it is of no use preaching to dead souls;" so they pass by on the other side, keeping close to the elect and quickened, but having nothing whatever to say to the dead, lest they should make out Christ to be too gracious, and his mercy to be too free. The Levite was not in quite such a hurry as the priest. The priest had to preach, and might be too late for the service, and therefore he could not stop to relieve the man; besides, he might have soiled his cassock, or made himself unclean; and then he would have been hardly fit for the dainty and respectable congregation over which he officiated. As for the Levite, he had to read the hymns; he was a clerk in the church, and he was somewhat in a hurry, but still he could get in after the opening prayer, so he indulged himself with the luxury of looking on. Just as I have known ministers say, "Well, you know we ought to describe the sinner's state, and warn him, but we must not invite him to Christ." Yes, gentlemen, you must pass by on the other side, after having looked at him, for on your own confession you have no good news for the poor wretch. I bless my Lord and Master he has given to me a gospel which I can take to dead sinners, a gospel which is available for the vilest of the vile. I thank my Master that he does not say to the sinner, "Come half way and meet me," but he comes "where he is," and finding him ruined, lost, obdurate, he meets him on his own ground, and gives him life and peace without

asking, or expecting him to prepare himself for grace. Here is, I think, set forth in my text, the available benevolence of the Samaritan; it is mine this morning, to show the available grace of Christ.

I. The sinner is WITHOUT MORAL QUALIFICATION FOR SALVATION, but Christ comes where he is.

I want, if I can, not to talk about this as a matter having to do with the multitude that are abroad, but with us in these pews. I speak not of them and those, but of you and me. I want to say to every sinner, "You are in a state in which there is nothing morally that can qualify you for being saved, but Jesus Christ meets you where you now are."

1. Remember first, that when the gospel was first sent into the world, those to whom it was sent, were manifestly without any moral qualification. Did you ever read the first chapter of Paul's Epistle to the Romans? It is one of those awful passages in Scripture, not intended to be read in congregations; but to be read and studied in the secrecy of one's chamber. The apostle gives a portrait of the manners and customs of the heathen world, so awful, that unless our missionaries had informed us, that it is exactly the photograph of life in Hindostan at the present moment, infidels might have declared that Paul had exaggerated. Heathendom in the time of Paul, was so desperately wicked that it would be utterly impossible to conceive of a sin, into which men had not fallen; and yet, "We turn unto the Gentiles," said the apostle; and yet the Lord himself commanded, "Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature." What! to Sodomites, whose very smallest sin is adultery, and fornication; to thieves and murderers, to murderers of fathers and mothers? Yes, go and preach the gospel to them! Manifestly, the fact that the world was steeped up to its very throat in the filth of abominable wickedness, and yet the gospel was sent to it, proves that Christ does not seek for any qualification of morality, or righteousness in man, before the gospel is available to him. He sends the Word to the drunkard, to the swearer, the harlot, the vilest of the vile; for such is the gospel of Christ intended to save.

2. Recollect again, the Biblical descriptions of those whom Christ came into the world to save, which prove to a demonstration that he comes to the sinner where he is. How does the Bible describe those whom Christ came to save? As men? No, my brethren; Christ did not come to save men as men, but men as sinners. As sensible sinners?-nay, I aver not; they are described as "dead in trespasses and sins." But to the law and to the testimony, let me read you one or two passages; and, while I read them, I hope you may be able to say, "There is hope for me." First, those whom Christ came to save are described in 1 Timothy, i. 15, and many other places, as "sinners." "This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief." "Sinners," without any adjective before the word; not awakened sinners, not repenting sinners; but sinners as sinners. "Surely," saith one, "I am not shut out." Another account is found in Romans v. o, "For when we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died"-for whom? those who had some desires after God? some respect to his name? nay, "for the ungodly." Now, an ungodly

man means a man without God, who cares not for God; "God is not in all his thoughts," and therefore he is not what men call a sensible sinner. "The ungodly are like "the chaff which the wind driveth away:" even these are the persons that Christ came to save. In the same chapter, 10th verse, you find them mentioned as "enemies "– "When we were yet enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son." What say ye to this? they are not described as friends. Christ laid down his life for his friends in one sense; "But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." Enemies to God were the objects of grace, so that in enmity Christ comes and meets man where he is.

In Ephesians ii. 1, we read of them as "dead in trespasses and sins”— "and you hath he quickened who were dead in trespasses and sins." Christ, then, does not ask the sinner to make himself alive; the gospel is not only to be preached to those who have some good notions, some good desires, some tremblings of the heavenly life within, but to the dead as dead; to the dead doth Christ come, and meet them in the grave of their sin. Again, (Ephesians ii. 3,) they are "children of urath"-"we were by nature the children of wrath even as others." Yet the gospel came to such. Can ye see anything hopeful in a child of wrath? I ask you to look over him from head to foot, if this be his name and character; can ye see a spot of goodness as large as a pin's point in the man? And yet such Christ came to save. Once again, they are mentioned as "accursed." Ah," says one sinner, "I have often cursed myself before God, and asked him to curse me." Well, Christ died for the accursed; (Galatians iii. 13,) "Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us;" that is, for us who were under the curse. And, once more, they are described by the dreadful word "lost." They are lost to all hope, to all consideration for themselves; even their own friends have given their case up as hopeless. "The Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost." (Luke xix. 10.) If I understand those passages which I have read in your hearing, they mean just this -that those whom Christ came to save have no good whatever in them to co-operate towards their salvation, and Christ doth not look upon them in order to find aught that is good in them. I am bold to say, the only fitness for cleansing is filthiness; the only fitness for a Saviour is being lost; and the only character under which we come to Jesus is as sinners, lost, dead, and accursed.

3. But, thirdly, it is quite certain from the work of grace itself, that the Lord does not expect the sinner to do anything or to be anything in order to meet him, but that he comes to him where he is. See, sinner, Christ dies on Calvary, a weight of sin is on his shoulders, and on his heart; in agonies the most awful he shrieks under the desertion of his God. For whom did he die? For the innocent? Wherefore for the innocent? What sacrifice did they need? For those who had some good thing in them? Why all these agonies for such? Surely a less price might do for them if they could eke it out themselves. But because Christ died on account of sin, I take it that those whom he died for must be viewed as sinners, and only as such. Inasmuch as he paid a