One word gives a character to the present ways of God toward the world, and that word issues, in all its unutterable sweetness, from His heart. It is the word " Come."
Oh! how much is conveyed in that precious, monosyllable! Does it not meet a need in the heart of him who has learned by sin his own wretchedness and solitude? does it not tell of a God, who, instead of closing His door against the earnest knockings of a truly anxious soul, the rather throws it wide open and seems to say, " My deepest desire is your welfare? " Does it not scatter to the winds the sin-born fear that really dwells in the heart of every child of him. who fled from the presence of God to hide himself amid the trees of the garden? Does it not speak of a God of infinite mercy, who, unhindered by the crimes that have rendered the prodigal odious, runs forth to embrace, to kiss, to clothe and to receive him? Oh! yes—volumes of such language are contained in the little word before us. It is the grand characteristic word of to-day" COME."
It is contained in the heart of God, in the revelation of God, in the dealings of God, and in the message of God, which still rings its silvery note wherever, in the wide do-. main of sin, the Gospel of His grace is proclaimed, " come," " come," " come," may be heard in its lovely reverberations in those sacred precincts where the angels rejoice when one sinner repenteth-may be read in that precious book by which alone we can learn the will of God: " He, every one that thirsteth, come," " Let him that is athirst, come,"-may be learned in the dealings of God in secret, those personal appeals, the life prolonged, the stroke averted, or even the stroke fallen, when a kindly voice within seemed to whisper " come,"-may be heard to-day -aye, may have been heard for days, for weeks, for months and for years from the lips of the herald, "come." It is Heaven's favorite utterance. It is uttered in love,-it is uttered in earnestness. It is addressed to the old. It is addressed to the young-to the rich, to the poor—to the Jew, to the Gentile-to him who has sinned but little, and, thank God, it is not withheld from Him who has sinned much, " Come unto Me all ye that labor and are heavy laden." " All " are addressed who are heavy laden —" all " are welcome. " All things are ready, come."
But how wondrous that God should exhibit such earnestness in inviting the sinner! Wondrous, truly; but " God is love." That is the full and only answer.
Then may we ask " How is God's love met by the sinner? " Alas, let this question be answered by Him who " spake as never man spake," " Ye will not come," Can it be? Can man willfully reject such love—yea, can he despise his own mercy, " Ye will not come."
Oh, reader, it does not say " Ye cannot come," but " Ye will not." Man seals his doom by his own deliberate refusal of mercy. Solemn truth-the door is open, the opportunity is granted and a faithful and loving voice says " come." But man sees fit to refuse.- His life is a refusal, his sins are a refusal, his ways are a refusal. " They made light of it and went their ways, one to his farm, another to his merchandize," and the call of heaven died on the breeze, and man was left to what-extinction, obliteration, annihilation? Oh, no—left to hear another word—left to accept, perforce, another alternative,—left to reap his folly, to shrink beneath the sounding of the word DEPART. There can be no " making light" of that word, no saying "I will obey at a more convenient season," no alternative. " Come" may have sounded many " Depart" will sound but once, and then it will be " depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire."
Oh! beloved reader, canst thou bear the thought of being spurned from Him who is the only source of love and light and blessedness-and who in tender grace bore with thee, yearned over thee, followed thee, whispered again and again to thee, " come," " come," ". COME?" Canst thou endure the prospect of " everlasting fire," where no relief, no change can be found? Canst thou brave the terror of the word " depart," and face forever the blackness of darkness, the gloom, the solitude, the remorse, the agony? Pause and think-awake to the reality of all this truth and hearken to the voice of mercy as it still calls to thee " come," "come," " COME."
J. W. S.