Transcribed from the [1862?] John Stabb (Tract 272) edition by David
Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org

                          [Picture: Tract cover]





                      THE GATHERING OF THE NATIONS.


THERE is something especially imposing in the sight of great multitudes;
hence, apart from the bliss, the glory, and the joy which the happy hosts
are represented as possessing in the Apocalyptic vision, there is a
peculiar sublimity in the description given in Revelation vii. 9, 10:
“After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could
number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood
before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and
palms in their hands; and cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to
our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb.”

The solitary traveller excites no attention; the ordinary concourse of
even crowded cities soon becomes familiar; but when large masses of
humanity are congregated together for any common object, it is impossible
to be an unconcerned spectator of the scene.  We may have little personal
interest in the purpose that has led them to assemble; we may be perfect
strangers to the mighty host; but by some mysterious law we identify
ourselves with them, and that not only when they are actually present,
but even when they have but an imaginary existence on the graphic page of
descriptive narrative.

These emotions were powerfully excited on the occasion of the Exhibition
in 1851, when such vast numbers visited our metropolis to inspect the
contents of the palace of glass.  The accumulated treasures of art and
skill excited the astonishment of the observer; but it was the countless
millions of our _fellow-men_, who were continually moving in our midst,
that commanded the wondering observation of the most unreflecting mind.
And now we are called to witness a similar influx from all parts of our
country and the world, to examine another display of the varieties of
international skill.  Europe, forgetful for a time of the agitations of
political strife, is pouring forth her thousands who are intent on the
encouragement of those arts which tend to the promotion of peace.  Asia
is sending her representatives to inspect those accumulations of treasure
before which the boasted magnificence of Oriental splendour grows pale.
America spares some from her fratricidal struggle to admire the far more
harmless and honourable competitions of industry.  Even Africa and the
inhabitants of the beauteous islands of the vast Pacific have an
interested share in the general gathering; while our colonies afford, by
their contributions, and the number of visitors, pleasing indications of
the rapidity with which they are following us in the race of
civilization.  From the sunny dales, the fertile fields, and the rural
villages, as well as from the busy towns and cities of our own land, our
countrymen are also flocking to share in the peaceful rivalry of the
assembled nations.  Who can look with indifference on this continually
increasing aggregate of active, living men?  Imagination cannot but
speculate concerning the various emotions which are throbbing in these
countless bosoms; on the different objects each is pursuing; on the
diversified impressions individuals will receive as they survey our busy
streets, our ever flowing tide of population, our temples of religion,
our government, our virtues, and our sins.  Piety, too, will anxiously
inquire, as she surveys the mighty throng, “Who among them feareth the
Lord?  Whither are all these immortal spirits tending?  What are the
stores they are laying up for eternity?”  No, we cannot be indifferent to
the scene.  We may look unmoved upon the majestic river, hastening
onwards to the sea—upon the lofty mountain, towering to the skies—upon
the solid fabric, which the skill of the architect has so reared that it
may defy the attacks of ages; but it is impossible to behold with apathy
the thousands whose minds are liable, like our own, to the ever shifting
anxieties of life’s struggles, whose hearts are subject to the same
conflicting passions with which our own are familiar, and whose souls are
destined to survive the wreck of all material things in the joys or
sorrows of an endless life.  Hence, amid the varied specimens of artistic
skill, of splendid luxury, of earth’s products, and of the discoveries of
science, which appear on every side, it is, we contend, the crowding
hosts of the many families and races of mankind which troop along the
aisles of the International Exhibition, which will, to a thoughtful mind,
still present the most serious matter for interested meditation.  Oh,
that the scene may awaken those who profess the religion of the Bible so
to display its influence, that these occasional visitors may carry back
with them deep, lasting, and salutary impressions of “the truth as it is
in Jesus,” and learn that “it is righteousness alone which exalteth a
nation!”  The opportunity is as favourable for exhibiting the moral
influence of genuine Christianity as it is unusual.  May a powerful
conviction of our national responsibility lead our countrymen to be
faithful and effectual “witnesses for God,” and not impede the progress
of the world’s evangelization by haughty pride, sordid covetousness,
disgraceful profligacy, or atheistic indifference.  Our common faith is
on its trial, and thousands of our fellow-men will be spectators of the
issue.

How varied the scenes from which these teeming multitudes have come!
What diversities, arising from birth, residence, and occupation, mark
their separate histories! and, when viewed in the light of the sacred
Scriptures, what solemn thoughts arise in reference to them all!  Some
have come from regions where the false prophet deludes the minds of
millions with fatalism and sensual hopes; others from the wide-spread
countries where Popery corrupts the truth of revelation, burdens the
simplicity of the Gospel with Pharisaic rites, and hides the doctrines of
the Cross behind the crucifix.  Some from the dark plains of heathenism,
with its “lords many and gods many,” worshipped under hideous forms,
where the glory of the incorruptible God has been changed into “an image
made like to corruptible man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and
creeping things;” others from various parts of our own favoured land,
where the Bible is known, and its truths professedly honoured.  But how
few, it may be feared, of this vast multitude, have yielded their hearts
to the influence of the Gospel! how few have realized their real
condition as sinners, their solemn responsibility as accountable beings,
and their need of the atoning blood of Christ!  Immersed in the world,
and striving to make the most of their brief sojourn here, must it not be
suspected that they are living for temporal purposes alone, and that very
many are “without hope, and without God in the world”?

How painful is such a thought, when viewed in connection with the
rapidity with which the generations of men are passing away from the face
of the earth!

Eleven years since, and a similar gathering, buoyant with hope and
energy, assembled in the Palace of Glass, and wandered amid the treasures
then collected; but what numbers of the busy throng have now passed into
the more impressive realities of eternity! some to inhabit the “house of
many mansions;” others into scenes where unavailing remorse is the bitter
fruit of opportunities neglected and privileges slighted!  The shadow of
death seems indeed to mingle with the bright colours of splendour which
adorn the present Exhibition.  We miss the familiar countenances of some
who took prominent parts in the gorgeous ceremonial of 1851.  Our beloved
Queen, whose presence shed a light and a lustre over the joyous throng,
is absent, for death has entered her palace, and bereaved her of her
Consort, so justly dear.  She, in widowed solitude, mourns his decease;
and none who visit this stately building can fail to miss the lamented
Prince, whose comprehensive intellect first adopted the idea, and defined
the principles which regulated the arrangement of the former and the
present Exhibition—whose cultivated taste was pervaded by genuine piety,
and whose loss will not soon be forgotten by a grateful and a mourning
nation.  He has been called to a nobler, a happier, a mightier assembly
than that of which he was the guiding spirit here.

The venerable parent of our afflicted monarch, who gained the gratitude
of the people of these realms by the appropriate training of the present
illustrious occupant of the throne, has, too, become an inhabitant of the
silent grave.  The aged Wellington, the hero of a hundred battles,
formerly so interested in the trophies of a peaceful world, has yielded
to the mighty conqueror, Death, and closed his chequered career.  These,
with many others known only to the omniscient God, have gone, leaving
mourning hearts and bereaved homes to recall those hours of happy and
enlightened interest they spent eleven years since, amid the gathering of
the nations.  They have gone to their account, and without vainly
attempting to scan the varied, the solemn lot which is now their eternal
destiny, let us listen to the warning voice, which says, “It is appointed
unto men once to die, and after that the judgment;” and cry, “O Lord, so
teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.”
They have gone, and we are yet left; but how earnest should be the
inquiry, “What progress are we making in the great purposes of our
existence?  What have we done to benefit our race and promote the glory
of our God?  Have the powers with which we have been entrusted been
employed for good, or prostituted to evil?  Have we advanced in fitness
for that state to which we are hastening, or have we yielded ourselves
more willing slaves to those sins which degrade, debase, and destroy the
soul?”

The purpose of the present Exhibition is to ascertain what improvements
the various countries have made in the industrial, useful, and ornamental
arts since the first comparison of national skill.  And truly great has
been the progress—humanity has studied with intense eagerness to multiply
the conveniences and diminish the evils of social life.  Luxury has
devised new methods of gratifying the almost sated desires of
self-indulgence.  Philanthropy has suggested additional means of
employment for the increasing numbers of the sons of toil.  Science, ever
striving to extend the bounds of human knowledge, has shed its
illumination upon many subjects seemingly wrapped in hopeless mystery.
The religion of Jesus, too, we rejoice to believe, has been making
progress during the past eleven years.  Though the obstacles which
worldliness, infidelity, carelessness, and superstition usually throw
into the way have been as great as ever—though the powers of evil have
not abated in the least degree their accustomed activity, the Gospel of
our salvation has been “mighty through God”—various parts of our own
country have been visited with “times of refreshing,” and other lands
have received the light of life—the realms of heathenism have been
pierced, the gloomy regions of idolatry have been invaded, and in
countries where a corrupted form of Christianity has long prevailed, the
Word of God has been set free: progression has been the character of the
times.

These facts afford cause for gratitude, but they also give intensity to
the questions we have proposed.  How, then, reader, has it been with you
amid this busy energy, this universal stir?  Have you realized the proper
object of your sojourn here?  Have you found your way to the Cross?  Have
you advanced in the road which leads to eternal blessedness?  Have you
practically felt the solemn truth contained in our Lord’s words, “Ye must
be born again?”  Many who at the last Exhibition were living only for
this world, are now ripening for that far nobler gathering of which they
shall hereafter form a part, “the general assembly and church of the
first-born which are written in heaven.”  Are you yet a stranger to the
blissful anticipation?##  Oh, press home the question, Am I born from
above?  Soon will the crowds which now fill the aisles of this vast
edifice be dispersed, to meet again only amid the realities of eternity;
in what circumstances and in what condition will you rejoin them?  In a
short time, the splendours of the International Exhibition will pass
away, its bright colours fade, its unparalleled collection be removed,
the deserted building remain as an illustration of the transitory
character of worldly glory, and the labour of years be only a thing of
memory.  But when all these accumulated treasures are scattered, the
desire for further progress will still be active.  Still the plotting
brain and the industrious hand will be engaged in devising new
combinations of skill; the restless heart will never cry “Enough!”

Indeed, this panting after some undefinable perfection is the prominent
feature of the age in which we live.  Since the last Exhibition, the vast
empire of China has been opened to the schemes of commercial enterprise,
and the efforts of religious zeal; Turkey has been rescued from the
ambitious designs of Russia; India has been subdued, and restored to
prosperity and peace after the horrors of mutinous anarchy; Italy has
made large advances towards its much-desired unity; but still the
unsatisfied soul of the world is aspiring after a perfection which is
never to be attained by man.  The struggle still continues, and the omens
of coming change multiply, while they assume a more portentous aspect
than ever.

America reels with the internecine conflict which rages between her sons.
Rome trembles in the balance of futurity.  Popery grasps with senile
obstinacy the last remnant of her temporal power.  France, indeed,
maintains unwonted calmness, but the most sagacious observer is unable to
determine whether it is a prelude to a coming storm, or the happy
subsidence of its oft-excited elements into prospective peace; and
Austria, with her _prestige_ of past splendour, weak yet despotic,
stubborn yet irresolute, strives with anxious solicitude to preserve her
position among the nations.

At home, all classes and all conditions are forsaking the ancient
landmarks, and seeking further advancement.  Science strives by its
theories to surpass the discoveries which awakened the astonishment of
past generations.  In politics, what would have been once regarded as the
dreams of deluded imagination, are now esteemed as unquestionable
principles of equity.  Even religion has its innovators, who affect
originality, and pretend to be friends of progress by attempting to
revive the discarded ceremonies of effete superstition, or by
disentombing those rash speculations whose utter want of intellectual or
spiritual life had long consigned them to oblivion.  In social life,
contentment with the allotments of Providence is an uncommon sight, and
“onwards and upwards” is the universal cry.  Oh, that this feeling arose
from enlightened principles, and that it were always directed to
appropriate ends!

Let it not be supposed that with cynic apathy we denounce the desire of
progress as evil in itself.  So far from this, we believe that it was
implanted in the heart of man to stimulate his efforts, and ultimately
secure his welfare.  But let us not forget that gracious Providence by
whose blessing only progress can become a real good, and let us
practically recognize the supreme importance of individual progress in
the paths of religion and virtue.  Formed “for the glory of God, and that
we should show forth His praise,” we are not at liberty to devote our
hearts exclusively or mainly to mere temporal pursuits.  “The fashion of
this world passeth away, and the lusts thereof,” but the soul must endure
for ever;—of priceless worth, no Koh-i-noor can compare with it in
value;—capable of indefinite progression, though polluted with iniquity,
nothing can purify and save it but the grace and merit of
Christ;—destined to survive when the earth itself shall be a wreck, it
must shine eternally like a gem in the Redeemer’s crown, or sink into
never-ending wretchedness and ruin.  Oh, then, reader! neglect not your
deathless soul; be not so dazzled with this passing splendour as to
forget the “glory, honour, and immortality” which may yet be yours; while
displaying a graceful courtesy to the foreigners who have honoured us
with their presence, do not impiously slight that blessed Jesus who came
from heaven and gave His heart’s blood for your salvation; while
honouring the skilful, the scientific, the industrious minds, the fruits
of whose labours are piled around you, do not dishonour that God in whom
you live, and move, and have your being.  Be not so engrossed with the
present as to overlook the future: another Exhibition is
preparing—another gathering of the nations will occur—when, around the
glorious white throne, “the dead, small and great, shall stand before
God; when the sea shall give up the dead which are in it, and death and
hell shall deliver up the dead which are in them, and they shall be
judged every man according to his work.”  Here on earth you are but a
unit lost in a crowded world; but in _that_ assembly, in the sight of the
omniscient God, your individuality shall stand out clearly and
distinctly, with its weight of irremovable responsibility, its noble
faculties, and its liability to eternal ruin or immortal joy: then,
deeply interested in the proceedings of that solemn day, amid the fierce
confusion, the flashing lightning, the rolling thunder, the falling
stars, the awful sounds of angelic trumpets, the songs of the blessed,
the shrieks of the lost, you shall receive that award from which there
can be no appeal; and even now Time is rapidly hastening on to bring the
final end of all things, and develop the dread catastrophe.

Your earthly journey, however, may be closed long ere this event arrives,
and death introduce you to that world where your state will be
irrevocably fixed.  Give, then, your heart to Jesus; do it now, and,
faithful to His promise, He will receive you—His blood shall atone for
your sin—His intercession secure your acceptance—His Spirit sanctify your
nature, and, clothing you with the garments of salvation, more beauteous
than were ever fashioned by artistic skill, He will “present you
faultless before the presence of His Father with exceeding joy.”  Then,
in the heavenly city, which needs neither sun nor moon, but where the
glory of God sheds its unclouded beams, and the Lamb is the light
thereof—where nothing enters that defileth, or worketh abomination, or
maketh a lie—there, in the world’s great assembly, in the “building not
made with hands, eternal in the heavens,” with the great multitude which
no man can number, who “have washed their robes, and made them white in
the blood of the Lamb,” shall you join the triumphant shout, “Great and
marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty! just and true are thy ways,
thou King of saints!”

                                * * * * *

                                * * * * *

              JOHN STABB, 27, RED LION SQUARE, LONDON, W.C.

                                * * * * *

       J. & W. RIDER, Printers, 14, Bartholomew Close, London, E.C.

                                   272