friends, that the
repentance of the New Testament is not idle tears nor the twitchings of
a vain regret, but the resolute turning away of the sinful heart from
its sins. It is 'repentance toward God,' the turning from the sin to the
Father, and that is what leads to salvation. The sorrow is separated
from the repentance in idea, however closely they may be intertwined in
fact. The sorrow is one thing, and the repentance which it works is
another.

Then notice that this change of purpose and breaking off from sin is
produced by the sorrow for sin, of which I have been speaking; and that
the production of this repentance is the main characteristic difference
between the godly sorrow and the sorrow of the world. A man may have his
paroxysms of regret, but the question is: Does it make any difference
in his attitude? Is he standing, after the tempest of sorrow has swept
over him, with his face in the same direction as before; or has it
whirled him clean round, and set him in the other direction? The one
kind of sorrow, which measures my sin by the side of the brightness and
purity of God, vindicates itself as true, because it makes me hate my
evil and turn away from it. The other, which is of the world, passes
over me like the empty wind through an archway, it whistles for a moment
and is gone, and there is nothing left to show that it was ever there.
The one comes like one of those brooks in tropical countries, dry and
white for half the year, and then there is a rush of muddy waters,
fierce but transient, and leaving no results behind. My brother! when
your conscience pricks, which of these two things does it do? After the
prick, is the word of command that your Will issues 'Right about face!'
or is it 'As you were'? Godly sorrow worketh a change of attitude,
purpose, mind; the sorrow of the world leaves a man standing where he
was. Ask yourselves the question: Which of the two are you familiar
with?

Again, the true means of evoking true repentance is the contemplation of
the Cross. Law and the fear of hell may startle into sorrow, and even
lead to some kind of repentance. But it is the great power of Christ's
love and sacrifice which will really melt the heart into true
repentance. You may hammer ice to pieces, but it is ice still. You may
bray a fool in a mortar, and his folly will not depart from him. Dread
of punishment may pulverise the heart, but not change it; and each
fragment, like the smallest bits of a magn