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.
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