IN the month of October, 1859, two brothers might have been seen walking together through the streets of Dublin. One of them was purposing that night to attend a gospel preaching in the Rotunda, one of the most spacious halls in that city, and was earnestly inviting his brother to accompany him. He soon found, however, that his companion was not disposed to do any such thing. He had just been buying a nice reading lamp for himself, and his purpose was to go quietly home with it, and have the pleasure that night of using it. Again and again the invitation was repeated; but, alas! without the desired effect. He had made up his mind to pursue a certain course, and pursue it he would.
It so happened that the Rotunda had to be passed on his homeward way. When the brothel’s came up to the large building it was found to be packed to the very doors with eager listeners, and consequently there was no chance for either of them to gain an entrance.
No sooner did G― discover this than a desire instantly sprang up in his mind to get inside.
“How could it be managed?” was the one absorbing thought now; while reading lamp and a pleasant evening at home were quite lost sight of in his eager wish to reach the inside of the Rotunda.
There was only one chance for him, and that was beset with difficulty, if not with danger. Yet the difficulty must be overcome, and even the danger risked. Up above his head was an open window. But how reach it without a ladder? was the question. Well, quite close to it was a rainwater spout. Up this they would climb, which they did, both of them reaching, thereby, an open window, and the crowded passage leading to the room where the meeting was being held. From thence they struggled to an anteroom, and through the window of that to the slates of another part of the building. From the slates they managed to reach the room where the preaching was going on; and there G― sat, with dangling legs, above and behind the preacher’s head, listening to the gospel. There and then the Spirit of God breathed an eternal blessing into his young soul.
Years after, this same young man became himself a preacher of the blessed gospel of God’s grace and glory; and it was on his way, one evening, to a small preaching room that he composed that precious little hymn, so much in keeping with the story of his own conversion, now so widely known, commencing―
“Come, hear the gospel sound,
Yet there is room,”
and closing with the solemn verse―
“God’s house is filling fast,
Yet there is room;
Some guest will be the last,
Yet there is room.
Yes, soon salvation’s day
To you will pass away,
Then grace will no more say,
Yet there is room.”
How much the conduct of this youth outside the crowded Rotunda reminds one of what is predicted in God’s Word of the behavior of the tens of thousands who shall find themselves left behind for judgment at the Lord’s second coming. Listen to the Lord’s own description of the sad scene: “Many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able. When once the Master of the house is risen up, and hath shut to the door, and ye begin to stand without, and to knock at the door, saying, Lord, Lord, open unto us; and He shall answer and say unto you, I know you not whence ye are: then shall ye begin to say, We have eaten and drunk in Thy presence, and Thou hast taught in our streets. But He shall say, I tell you, I know you not whence ye are; depart from Me, all ye workers of iniquity” (Luke 13:24-2724Strive to enter in at the strait gate: for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able. 25When once the master of the house is risen up, and hath shut to the door, and ye begin to stand without, and to knock at the door, saying, Lord, Lord, open unto us; and he shall answer and say unto you, I know you not whence ye are: 26Then shall ye begin to say, We have eaten and drunk in thy presence, and thou hast taught in our streets. 27But he shall say, I tell you, I know you not whence ye are; depart from me, all ye workers of iniquity. (Luke 13:24‑27)).
Alas for such a company! What can they say now, but with one common wail cry, “The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are NOT SAVED” (Jer. 8:2020The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved. (Jeremiah 8:20))? Men may sing, if they will, of the “gate’s ajar”; but, depend upon it, there is no such thing, nor ever will be. When God’s grace opens the door, it is open; yes, as widely open as His large heart and gracious hand can throw it; and when in righteousness He closes it, it will be closed indeed. We read, “AND THE DOOR WAS SHUT” (Matt. 25:1010And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut. (Matthew 25:10)).
It is when the door of mercy is so widely open that men are found treating the matter with cold contempt, either by a dogged refusal to enter, or by a sleepy indifference to all that is at stake by remaining outside. But when the wedding has been “furnished with guests”; when once the “house is filled,” and “the door” forever “shut,” what terrible earnestness will they manifest!
“Have we not heard the Bridegroom is so sweet?
Oh, let us in that we may kiss His feet!
Late, late! TOO LATE!
Ye CANNOT enter now!”
There will be no climbing up some other way then.
“Sealed is their doom, for there’s no more room!
Filled are you mansions of light.”
Let us earnestly beseech you then, dear reader, to be in time. Some guest will certainly be the last; and that one, for aught you know, may enter this very hour. If you care for your eternal happiness, delay not another moment. The Savior still waits to welcome and bless. But bear in mind what His last message is to His chosen ones, “Surely I come quickly.” Thank God, we are still here to tell you that, “Yet there is room.”