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The Danger of Unconfessed Sin.

The Danger of Unconfessed Sin.

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Published by GLENN DALE PEASE

BY CHARLES H. SPURGEON

"'When I kept Jilence, my bones waxed old through my roaring all the day long. **
— PSALM xxxii. 3.

BY CHARLES H. SPURGEON

"'When I kept Jilence, my bones waxed old through my roaring all the day long. **
— PSALM xxxii. 3.

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Published by: GLENN DALE PEASE on May 01, 2013
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07/10/2013

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THE DAGER OF UCOFESSED SI.BY CHARLES H. SPURGEO"'When I kept Jilence, my bones waxed old through my roaring all the day long. ** — PSALM xxxii. 3.It is well known that in ordinary cases grief which is kept within thedbosom grows more and more intense. It is a Tery great relief to shedi^teare^; it gives a yent to the heart. We sometimes pity those who weep,Int there is a grief too deep for tears, which is far more worthy of iximpassion ; we ought most to pty those who cannot weep. A dry sorrowis a terrible one, but clear shining often follows the rain of tears. Tears-are hopefol things ; they are the dewdrops of the morning foretellingihe coming day. So is it also a very great consolation to teU yonr storyto a friend : I do not know whether it would not be a comfort to speak it to a little child, even if the child could not understand you. There issomething in telling your sorrow and letting it out ; otherwise it is likea mountam tarn which has no outlet, into which the rains descend andihe torrents rush, and at last the banks are broken and a flood iscaosed. Let thy soul flow forth in words as to thy common griefs, itis well for thee. A festering wound is dangerous. Many have lost theirreason because they had good reason to ten their sorrows, but had notreason enough to do so. Much talk hath in it much of sin, but a heart.fiall of agony must speak or burst ; therefore let it talk on and even jspeat it^lf, for in so doing it will spend itself." Sorrow weeps IAnd spends its bitterness in tears ;
 
M^ cmld of sorrow,W eep out the fulness of thy passionate grief,And drown m tearsThe bitterness of lonely years."We shall now, however, think of spiritual sorrows, and to these thesame rule applies. " When I kept silence," and did not pour out mysorrow where I ought to have confessed it, "my bones waxed oldthrough my roaring all the day loug."]0. 1,366.428 HSTKOPOUTAH TABERACLE PULPIT.Ib it not a great mercj for ue that we have tbe Book of PssJot,and the life of anch a man as Darid ? Biographies of most peopk iiowada;ra are like the portraits of a past generation, when the art of flatter; in oils was at ita height. There in no greater cheat thnn imodem biography : it is not the man at all, hnt what he might hatebeen if he nad not been something else. They give yon a lock of hiihair, or his wig, or his old cont, hnt seldom the man : thev makthnge Yolnmes oat of a heap of hia letters which ought to have haenbnmed, and copy little scraps of pictures which he nsed to draw foefriends, and neither tbe letters nor the sketches onght ever to hare beenfiablished. Like burglars, they break into a man's chamber and pi?-oin his hidden things ; they hold np to the pnbltc eye what was mew^for privacy only, and expose the seeret^ of the man's heart andhearth. Things which the man would never have drawn or writiaiif he had thought that they would meet the public eye are draggedforth and brought ont as prei'ioiis things, and so they are, butpreciona nonaense. We hiivc uo biographers nowadays. WhenBoBwell died the greatest of all biographers died, and he was not &rremoved from a fooh If a man lives a noble life he may well ahrink from dying, becanae he knows what will become of him nowadays whenwriters of hia memoirs nnearth him and tear him to pieces, David'spsalms are his best memorial There you have not the man's exterior,bnt hia inward sonl ; they do not reveal the outward manifestations of the man, bnt you see the man's heart — the inner David, the Davidthat grcnned and the David that wept, the David that sighed andthe David that sinned, the David that ycnmed after God, and the
 
David that was eateo np with the zeal of God's honse — the man whowas bom in sin and groaned over sin, and was yet the man ajler Cod'iown heart. What a wonderftil autobiography of a wonderful life thilBook of Psalms is ! David was a many-sided man, and bis liftwas Uke the lite of onr Lord in this respect — that it seemed tocomprehend the lives of all other men within itself. There is noman, I suppose, who has knonti the Lord in any age since David wrote. but has seen himself in David's psalms as in a looking-glass, and hasI said to himself, " This man knows aU about mo. He has been intoevery room of my sonl — into ils lowest cellar and into its loftiest toweriI he has been with me in the dens of my inbred sin iind in the palaces of my fellowship with Christ, from whiih I have looked upon the gloiyI of God," Here is a man who " seems to be, not one, but ull man-kind's epitome." Though we monra over David's sin, yet wethank God that it was permitted, for if h'' lind not so fnHcn hehad not been able to help as when we are conscious of tran^^nAioa.He could not have so minutely described our grieis if be had notfelt the same. David lived, in this respect, for others as welt as tehimself.I am thankful that David was permitted to try the experimentof silence after his great sin, for he will now tell us what came of it— " When I kept eiience, my bones waxed old through my roaring alt thodaylong."We shall apply this first, as it should he, to the erring child of Otiamvinadof htx «m; and then, secondly, we shall lemiad yon tJut theVTHftr]»ASSBB'«rfUirOOHn88Bro BBT. 4^same rale holds good with 4A« awakemd mnn&r in whom th$ Spirii of Ood has bmfun to wmk a sense of gmltI. Pirgt, LET us THIKK ©F THE OHHiD OP GoD. Children of Godsin I Some of them have daimed to be well-nigh Aree from it; bnt — I will say no more ; I think they sinned when thej talked in snch akyftj fltrain. God's children sin, for they are still in the body. If they

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