MANY people have crowded into an “upper chamber,” where an evangelist from a distant town is to speak of Jesus. Such a sight is not an unwonted one in our own country, but in the far south of France gospel meetings are not so frequent, and many of these Roman Catholics were this evening to hear for the first time the sweet story of old.
With eager faces rivetted on the preacher they listened, while he pleaded with them to flee to the Saviour, to find instant salvation in His finished work on the cross. He showed them what a “refuge of lies” that false teaching is, that tells the sinner his poor attempt! at good works can gain him heaven. But whilst he spoke of the love of God, Who sent His Son into the world that, believing or Him, we should not perish, he warned them too, of a surely-coming judgment, and earnestly implored them to come to Jesus before it was too late.
Concluding in deeply solemn tones, which thrilled through the hearts of his hearers, he related the following incident from his own life, which may have a warning voice even to some in our more privileged land:—
“Brought up by a truly godly mother, who from my earliest childhood tried to lead me to Jesus, I was never without serious impressions. I wished my mother’s Saviour to be mine, and I admired the beauty of Christ as exemplified in her life. But though earnestly desired to be a child of God like her some day, I still kept putting off the moment of deciding for Christ.
“And so my boyhood passed away. The time was drawing near when I must leave me home to go out into the world, and I was yet unconverted, out of Christ, notwithstanding my mother’s constant earnest pleadings. At length, God Himself spoke to me, through warning dream. It is now twenty years ago but it is as vivid to my mind as if it were but yesterday.
“I dreamed one night that I was busily engaged at my studies with the tutor, my mother sitting at my side. It was mid-day, when the light should have been at the brightest; but suddenly the sunshine faded away, and a deep gloom overspread the heavens.
“Awestruck I arose, and groping my way towards the window, flung it open, and stood looking out into the ever-increasing darkness, which became a ‘darkness that might be felt.’ In the far distance I descried one tiny luminous speck, coming straight from heaven, which steadily increased in brilliance as I gazed upon it.
“A terrible foreboding seized me. ‘Can this be the coming of the Lord?’ I exclaimed.
This was no new thought to me; for my mother, in her solemn warnings, had often told me He was coming again, begging me to be ready to meet Him.
“I stood transfixed, unable to remove my earnest gaze from that bright light, which, seeming to overpower the darkness, grew larger and larger, and came nearer and nearer, until I saw distinctly in the midst of the glory, the Person of the Son of God Himself, and knew that my worst fears were realized.
“Shining angels issued from that glorious center, and sped downwards, entering one dwelling or another, wherever the Saviour’s blood-bought ones were to be found. I watched the heavenly messengers returning, some leading but one, others two or three, of the saints into the presence of the Lord, and I saw the sweet reception of each one by the Saviour—the look of tender love and welcome that He gave them—and understood that they had indeed entered into ‘fullness of joy.’ My soul was filled with longing to share such glorious happiness, but I knew I was not ready. Oh! if I could but recall a few hours of that precious time, which God in His long patience had given me—now gone forever!
“I would gladly have looked longer at those faces, lit up with such holy rapture; but another scene attracted my attention, and rivetted my horror-stricken eyes—a scene of misery, desolation, and woe, going on in the blackness beneath. Lost souls, who in that terrible hour had vainly sought to hide themselves from the wrath of the Lamb, were cursing God, and railing against Him, as the inevitable judgment overtook them. I heard them blaspheming His name, as they were hurried down to perdition, into the ‘outer darkness, where shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth; where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.’
“Dear friends, I beg you to remember this is but a dream, and so to bear with some details that are not scriptural. It is not angels who shall come to lead the redeemed into the Lord’s presence. You will see if you turn to 1 Thess. 4:16,1716For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: 17Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. (1 Thessalonians 4:16‑17), that He will not entrust this mission to any other, but that He Himself will descend from heaven, and call His own to join Him in the air. The terrible judgment that will fall on the wicked, will not take place until after the children of God are safe at home in the Father’s house, far away from this scene of woe. However, in my dream, God, in His grace, purposing thoroughly to arouse me, brought vividly before me all the horrors of the damned, at the same time that He showed me the blessedness of the saints. It was truly an appalling moment.
“I cried aloud, in a fever of anxiety, entreating for that mercy, which I knew had been so freely offered me a little while before, mercy from which I had then turned away in indifference, but now realized to be of such eternal value. I prayed for salvation—the salvation I had delayed accepting when it was within my grasp. I besought for but one hour more. But even as I called upon God, I felt, in my anguish, that there was none to hear; the prayer came back as an idle echo to my own bosom. I knew it was too late; the day of grace was over, the Day of Judgment had begun!
“My eyes again sought those bright messengers of the Lord. One of them must come to our home, for there was undoubtedly one child of God there. A faint hope arose within me, that when the messenger came for that one, there might yet be mercy for another; that perhaps (not having positively refused salvation, though so guilty in delaying to accept it) I might find forgiveness, and be caught up with her to join the glad throng around the Lord.
“The door opened, and a radiant angel stood before us, his face beaming with the love and peace of Him from whose presence he had come. I felt the decisive moment had arrived, and that my fate was sealed. How many of the inmates of that room would he call?
“Beckoning to my mother, the angel said, ‘Follow thou me,’ and she rose up quickly and followed him. Will he call but one? Has he no word for me? Oh, how gladly would I go too! As a poor suppliant, my entreating eyes were on the angel’s face, but not one look or word had he for me. It was the voice of my loved mother that pronounced my doom, as she left me forever. At the door she turned, and casting on me an earnest look that pierced my very soul, she said in sorrowful tones, ‘My son, I often spoke to you of this, and told you that if you would be saved, you must believe on the Lord Jesus Christ; now it is too late! too late!’
“The door closed, and she was gone, leaving me with the burning words ringing in my ears, ‘too late! too late!’ I sank on the ground in an agony of grief, weeping as if my very heart would break. Nothing remained for me, all had vanished in one moment—both earth and heaven—my mother and the Lord. In the utter depth of my misery I awoke!
“Awoke, to find the pillow drenched with my tears. What! a pillow, a bed! Then this awful scene had been but a dream. It was not yet for me to lift up my eyes in hell, being in torments, dragged away from the eternal light by those fearful heralds of judgment.
‘Depart from Me, ye cursed!’ had not yet been said. Those terrible words, ‘too late! too late!’ were not yet true. The ransomed saints were not yet gathered into the Father’s house. One golden hour was still mine; not one moment of it must be lost. I sprang out of bed, and casting myself on my knees before God, with many tears cried for mercy, while I thanked Him that He had given me one hour more in His ‘day of salvation.’
“Blessed be God! there was yet time left for me to find Christ, to be washed in His precious blood, and to live from henceforth unto Him who died for me, while watching for His coming.”
This was the story told by the preacher that night in the little French town.
Dear reader, you who are yet without hope and without God in the world, oh! delay not to come to Jesus while there is time. Do not put this aside as only a dream, for there is a solemn lesson in it. Christ is surely coming again; the cry, “Behold the Bridegroom cometh!” has sounded. Is there oil in your vessel, and, with lamp trimmed, are you going forth to meet Him? How will it be with you when He calls His saints to join Him in the air? Be warned; flee to Christ, while the long-suffering of our God is salvation, and cast in your lot with those who are waiting for the Son from heaven, “even Jesus, which delivered us from the wrath to come.”
D. & A. C.