The mere haranguing upon (what they call)
Morality is powder without ball;
But he who preaches with a Christian grace,
Fires at our vices, and the shot takes place.”
John Byrom.
THE service at the malt-kiln in Midden Harbour continued to be attended with results most gratifying to the little band who had made so bold a raid on territory long held by the devil in undisputed peace. One Sunday evening the rude platform-pulpit was occupied by Nathan Blyth, who, as my readers know, was a very effective local preacher. The place was well filled by an eager but decorous crowd. Few of the residents in Midden Harbour were absent from the service, and a goodly number of people from the higher part of the village, and even from other places, had assembled to hear “the word of the Lord.” There were many there who, a little while ago, were little better, either in habits or appearance, than the Gadarene demoniac, who were now, thanks to the Great Miracle-worker, “sitting clothed, and in their right mind.” Nathan Blyth, as a preacher, was in great request at Midden Harbour, and it is no disparagement of the itinerant preachers to say that Nathan was, on the whole, and before that audience, even more popular than they. On the present occasion, Nathan was speaking to a “people prepared of the Lord,” to expect in simple trust and confidence the manifestations of the saving power of God. At the further end of the malt-kiln sat Piggy Morris, who had hitherto apparently withstood the gracious influences around him. He was not, however, by any means contented or at ease. The combined influence of his great favourite, Lucy Blyth, his son John’s remarkable conversion and deliverance, the wise and well-timed visits of Mr. Clayton, the earnest and honest activity of Mr. Mitchell, as well as the quiet influence of his own godly daughter, had all conspired to make Piggy Morris out of love with himself. The wonderful revival, too, though it had not as yet seemed to lay much hold on him, had nevertheless brought messages and impressions that rendered him unhappy and discontented with himself, and at this stage, with everybody else; not at all an uncommon state of things this, in those who are not far from the kingdom of God.
Nathan Blyth preached a most touching and effective sermon from the words, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock!” “You see,” he said, “that the Lord is outside the sinner’s heart! He dwells in the bosom of the Father, and is His glory and delight. He dwells in the angels, and fills them with His glory! He dwells in the happy saints in heaven, and their bliss is complete. He dwells in the heart of every Christian believer here, and they are happy in His love. Everybody is happy who has Jesus in his heart. He doesn’t dwell in the hearts of devils, and their misery is complete. Sinner! He does not dwell in your heart, and you are ripening for the same ruin. You are hastening to that dark place where the doors can never be opened inward to admit Him, or outward to release you from the terrors of the second death.
“But, my dear friends, though Christ is outside, He dearly wants to come in. And what for, think you? Because He loves you! His love for you brought Him from heaven to earth, led Him to Calvary, and brings Him to your heart’s door, where He stands to-night! He wants to come in! He knows how bad and sad, how poor and helpless you are, and so He ‘knocks’ and says, ‘Let Me in! Thy soul is perishing; I can save it! Thy enemies are legion; I can conquer them! Thy needs are great; I can supply them! Thy sorrows are many; I can lift them! Thy tears fall fast; I can dry them! Thy sins are red like crimson; I can make thee white as snow! Poor, lost, helpless, dying sinner, I can save thee! I am thy Friend. I love thee! I died for thee! Now I plead with thee. Sinner, poor sinner, let Me in!’
“But there’s somebody in already that keeps Him out. Satan is in the heart. He has no right to it; but he has got it, and has become king of it. His commands are wicked, but they are obeyed. His counsels are deadly, but they are followed. That strong man armed holds his ill-gotten goods, and the world and the flesh help him to keep the house which he has stolen from the Lord Jesus. The devil fills it with bad company, with selfishness, with wicked thoughts and lusts, with worldliness and pleasure. It is like a great warehouse, or an overcrowded inn, and there’s no room for Jesus. He stands knocking and asking, that loving Saviour! and He gets no answer except the laughter or the scorn of the unrighteous guests inside. The door is shut! the bars and bolts are all shot into their sockets; Prejudice and Pride double-lock the door; a big dead-weight of stone called ‘don’t care’ is rolled against it, and the porter cries gruffly through the keyhole, ‘Go Thy way; when it’s convenient I’ll let Thee know!’ Oh, what a wonder that Jesus does not come with the hammer of judgment, and nail the door to, and leave him to perish, with his own heart for his coffin, and his sins for his grave! But no, no! Although there’s a deaf ear and a closed door, Jesus stands, with bowed head and folded hands, waiting, praying for thee, and crying, ‘The time is short, poor sinner; let Me in!’