Transported in imagination to Palestine, the eye travels from the processions and crusades of former days to assemblages in modern times, animated by a like spirit of superstition; and among scenes of this kind such a picture as the following occurs on the banks of the Jordan, by the fountain of Elisha, detaining the fancy by its poetical interest, while, as an expression of blind and misguided feeling improperly termed religious, it fills with melancholy reflections the mind which has been enlightened by true piety. “I estimated the number of persons encamped upon the plain before Jericho at 2,500, including a singular variety of languages and costumes. There was scarcely a people under heaven among whom Christianity is professed without its representatives here. There were Copts, Greeks, Armenians, Catholics, Protestants from Abyssinia, Egypt, Asia Minor, Turkey, Greece, Malta, Italy, France, Spain, Austria, Poland, Prussia, Russia, Great Britain, America, and I believe all or nearly all other Christian lands. Cossacks were very numerous, and were distinguished for their equipages and personal bearing among a motley assemblage, which could hardly claim to be less than semi-barbarous. This was no mean opportunity to study customs and costumes, when a walk of two or three minutes brought under your inspection the Egyptian dining upon an onion and a doura cake, the Syrian with his hands full of curds, the Armenian feasting on pickled olives or preserved dates, the Cossack devouring huge pieces of boiled mutton, and the European and American seated around a box, serving the purpose of a table, covered with the usual variety of meats and drinks demanded by the pampered appetite of civilized man. As it grew dark, a multitude of fires was kindled throughout the camp and in the grove adjoining, which threw their strong glare upon these very characteristic curious groups, and gave the fullest effect to the picturesque scene. The red caps, the huge turbans, the vast flaunting robes of striped silk or scarlet, the coarse shaggy jacket and bag trousers of the Cossacks, the venerable huge beards and bare feet and legs of the orientals, all seemed part and parcel of the human beings who lay nestled together upon the ground like domestic animals, or moved about the illuminated area, thus varying and multiplying by every possible change of light and shade the phases and hues of all that appears grotesque and fantastic to an eye accustomed to the graver modes of the western world.”
And now that a chain of rather wild but not uninteresting suggestions has brought us to the Holy Land, other thoughts, sacred and divine, bind us there for a while, strengthened by the sight of many a foreign and home-born visitor among the actual crowd, within and about the great Crystal Palace, unmistakably of Israelitish origin, the descendants of the men who possessed the country in her better days. And there, on the summit of Moriah, stands an edifice devoted neither to war nor wealth, to the advancement of art or to the gratification of pleasure, but to the service of the God of the whole earth. “A mountain of snow,” it seemed to the Roman Titus, “fretted with golden pinnacles.” But, with an attractiveness surpassing that of material beauty, it revealed itself to the lingering eyes of large companies at their holy feasts two thousand years ago, as they at length touched the summit of some one of “the mountains which stood round about Jerusalem.” They came over hill and dale, through mountain pass and by river stream, singing the songs of Zion, and rehearsing glorious things spoken of the city of God. At many a cottage door, and village border, and city gate, groups of Israelites young and old, with smiling faces and beating hearts, fell into the augmenting crowd; which, as it rolled on, resembled the “swelling of their own Jordan.” They came “upon horses, and in chariots, and in litters, and upon mules, and upon swift beasts, to the holy mountain.” Thither “the tribes went up, the tribes of the Lord, unto the testimony of Israel, to give thanks unto the name of the Lord.” There was “little Benjamin with their ruler, the princes of Judah and their council, the princes of Zebulun, and the princes of Naphtali.” They entered “through the gates into the city.” The Jew from “Dan” met the Jew from “Beersheba,” and he who dwelt “by the haven of ships,” saluted his brother from “the other side of the river.” Lover and friend, acquaintance and “kindred according to the flesh,” fell upon one another’s necks and kissed each other. The old man with his “staff in his hand for very age” saw “his children’s children and peace upon Israel.” The “streets of the city were full of boys and girls playing in the streets thereof.” “There was a voice of noise from the city—a voice from the temple.” “They went up to the house of the Lord.” The priests were “clothed with salvation, the saints shouted for joy.” “The singers went before, the players on instruments followed after, among them the damsels playing with timbrels.” “They praised his name in the dance, and sang praise unto him with the timbrel and the harp.” They “brought an offering and came into his courts.” “They came to the altar of God.” “They compassed it round about.” They beheld “the beauty of the Lord, and inquired in his temple.”
One year stands out in the history of those gatherings before which every other fades. Then our passover was slain. Then the day of the world’s pentecost was fully come, and great was the gathering. The multitude without the gates who were assembled to gaze on that spectacle before which, at its close, “the sun was darkened,” saw an inscription, in the threefold language, of which there was a pregnant meaning that Pilate little thought of—“It was written in Greek, and Latin, and Hebrew,” the three great languages then spoken on the earth. Men who had used these languages from infancy were there. Representatives of the world were there—the Roman centurion was there—Simon the Cyrenian was there [103]—multitudes of the Jews were there. And as they deciphered that strange writing, the various tongues in which the title of the Divine Sufferer was expressed was a sign that in Him, the Roman, Greek, and Israelite would find a Saviour and a Lord. The three languages “which like gold threads bind up the history of the ancient world,” were here beautifully entwined to tell the teeming crowd of one for whose coming all the changes in the story of their respective nations had, in the comprehensive working of Divine providence, prepared. The cross of ignominy, at the sight of which they shuddered, was the threshold he must needs pass to enter his kingdom and ascend his throne, there to sway over them a sceptre at whose touch their hearts would bow and be rid of the burden of sin and guilt,—while their mutual antipathies would melt away, and He who had brought them peace would make them one for ever. “The Roman, powerful but not happy—the Greek distracted with the inquiries of an unsatisfying philosophy—the Jew bound hand and foot with the chain of a ceremonial law,” would find in Christ crucified the power of God and the wisdom of God; and, in the superscription of his accusation, read wondrous words of “peace, pardon, and love,” to all the dwellers upon earth. [104]
Seven weeks afterwards and again there was a gathering. “They were all with one accord in one place. And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance. And there were dwelling at Jerusalem Jews, devout men, out of every nation under heaven. Now when this was noised abroad, the multitude came together, and were confounded, because that every man heard them speak in his own language. And they were all amazed and marvelled, saying one to another, Are not all these which speak Galilæans? And how hear we every man in our own tongue, wherein we were born? Parthians, and Medes, and Elamites, and the dwellers in Mesopotamia, and in Judæa, and Cappadocia, in Pontus, and Asia, Phrygia, and Pamphylia, in Egypt, and in the parts of Libya about Cyrene, and strangers of Rome, Jews and proselytes, Cretes and Arabians, we do hear them speak in our tongues the wonderful works of God.”
“And the same day there were added unto them about three thousand souls. And they, continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house, did eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having favour with all the people.” Then was the beginning of that ingathering of souls which the Redeemer of the world predicted when he uttered those amazing words: “I, if I be lifted up from the earth will draw all men unto me.” Then he began, and still he continues that infinitely gracious work, in the accomplishment of which he unites a fallen and divided race together by uniting them to himself. The moral world has been, as it were, riven by an earthquake—consumed by an internal fire—and he undertakes to reunite and restore it. He employs his cross as the point around which the whole mass of regenerated humanity is to collect: indeed, by the simple virtue of that cross, he accomplishes the change, and constitutes it the axis on which the “new earth” shall rest and revolve. The attraction is invisibly going on, and the successful issue shall be at length developed. To him shall the gathering of the people be. They shall come not as captives, but as those who choose his service “to worship before him in his holy mountain.” “The abundance of the sea shall be converted; the forces of the Gentiles shall come.” They shall “fly as a cloud and as doves to their windows.” “The isles shall wait” on him. “The ships of Tarshish first, to bring his sons from afar.” “He will gather all nations and tongues, and they shall come and see his glory.” “He shall set up an ensign for the nations, and shall assemble the outcasts of Israel. The envy also of Ephraim shall depart, and the adversaries of Judah shall be cut off. Ephraim shall not envy Judah, and Judah shall not vex Ephraim.” Thus the divided world shall be made one in a way infinitely transcending the ambitious dreams of an Alexander or Napoleon. The moral dispersion, of which that at Babel was the type, shall be reversed; men shall be united in religion and love: and the lines of human interest, like the radii of a circle, concentrating in spiritual obedience and the glory of Christ, shall no longer confusedly and in strife cross each other as they do now, and ever must, while a base selfishness makes each man his own centre.
Lifted into this mood of feeling, so much loftier than that with which we began the chapter, we cannot close without turning a reverential gaze on other gatherings, in that state of being on whose precincts we and all the multitudes around us every moment tread. There is the gathering in the grave, “the silent waiting-hall where Adam meeteth with his children.” “The chief ones of the earth, the kings of the nations,” are “brought down there and the worm is spread over them, and the worms cover them.” And “there the rich and the poor meet together.” “The small and the great are there.” Who can count the sands on the sea shore—and who can cast up the number of the dead? Vast as it is already, the concourse in the great city of the grave shall in a few short years receive accessions of myriads more. The multitudes who crowd the streets of the Great Metropolis, in their way to the Palace of Industry, and all whom they represent in distant lands, will ere long descend to the “place of their fathers’ sepulchres.” This globe, as it sails round the sun, carries in its deep hold many a costly thing; but the dust of its buried generations is a freightage more precious than gold or silver!
Along with this there is the gathering of souls into invisible realms. It is consonant with reason and revelation, that we should believe in the conscious existence of minds after their separation from the body. While the mortal remains are preserved by Divine Providence for a mysterious restoration to life at the last day, the immaterial and immortal spirit enters into a separate condition of blessedness or woe, according to its character in the present state of being. “Lazarus died, and was carried by the angels to Abraham’s bosom.” “Absent from the body, present with the Lord.” The emancipated souls of all the holy dead, through the mediation of the blessed Redeemer, are gathered together in his immediate presence where there is fulness of joy, and at his right hand where there are pleasures for evermore. “To that state all the pious on earth are tending; and if there is a law from whose operation none are exempt, which irresistibly conveys their bodies to darkness and dust, there is another not less certain and powerful which conducts their spirits to the abodes of bliss, to the bosom of their Father and their God. The wheels of nature are not made to roll backward, everything presses on to eternity: from the birth of time an impetuous current has set in, which bears all the sons of men towards that interminable ocean. Meanwhile heaven is attracting to itself whatever is congenial to its nature: is enriching itself by the spoils of earth, and collecting within its capacious bosom whatever is pure, permanent, and divine; leaving nothing for the last fire to consume but the objects and the slaves of concupiscence: while everything which grace has prepared and beautified shall be gathered and selected from the ruins of the world, to adorn that Eternal City which hath no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it, and the Lamb is the light thereof.” [110] And terrific is it to think that as the multitude of the spirits of the just made perfect is thus ever augmenting, so also is there an increase of the crowds of fallen and lost beings in the abodes of despair. How many, it is to be feared, are hastening on, by their course in this world, not to paradise, but to prison—not to be with Christ, but to go with Judas to their own place!
And beyond these scenes of awful interest there lies another of like character, to be witnessed at the end of time by everyone who may look at these pages, because it will be the gathering of the whole human race. “The dead which are in their graves shall hear the voice of the Son of man, and shall come forth.” The sea shall give up the dead which is in it. Death and Hades shall deliver up the dead which are in them. The dead, small and great, shall stand before God. The Son of man shall come in his glory, with all the holy angels with him. Then shall he sit on the throne of his glory. And before Him shall be gathered all nations. “Behold, he cometh with clouds; and every eye shall see him.” To think of all the multitudes who have ever lived upon the earth—all who are now in heaven or hell—all who are existing like ourselves—all who are yet to be born, assembled before the judgment-seat of Christ! No such an aggregate of human beings can have ever met before. Compared with that final one, even regarded simply in reference to numbers, every other assemblage fades into insignificance. The solemn incidents of that day, relating merely to the material globe and the works of men, as predicted in the New Testament; the melting of the elements and the burning of the earth really appear, upon reflection, less startling and impressive than the vast concourse of mortals which shall then be seen. And, to add to the wonder, all, with the exception of those who will be alive at the coming of the Son of man, shall have passed through mysterious stages of existence, through the hour of dissolution and the disembodied state, and shall bring with them to the great tribunal some knowledge of the secrets of eternity. Something anticipative of their future and everlasting state they shall have experienced; so that, not in suspense, but with certain hope or fixed despair, shall they meet their God. They will have learned long before, that their moral history in this world had determined their eternal history in the next: that if not twice born here below—born of the Spirit as well as of nature—they must then die “the second death.” Thoughts and emotions, remembrances and expectations, such as in none of the world’s great gatherings have been or ever shall be known, will then be felt. And, to complete this, the most affecting of all the associations which our subject has suggested, the mind passes on to contemplate the purpose and issue of the whole. Placed before the great white throne, every man’s work shall be made manifest, the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed, that the rectitude of the judge may be seen in his final sentence of life or death. No human adjudication can be comparable to that. “Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty; just and true art thou in all thy ways, thou King of saints.”
The brightest of all visions next unfolds. A structure of peerless beauty rises above the ruins of the world, and within its gates there gather men from all lands, select but innumerable. “And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and there was no more sea. And I John saw the holy city, New Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, . . . and be their God. And he showed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem: and her light was like unto a stone most precious, even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal; and had a wall great and high, and had twelve gates, and at the gates twelve angels . . . And the twelve gates were twelve pearls; every several gate was of one pearl: and the street of the city was pure gold, as it were transparent glass. And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. And the nations of them that are saved shall walk in the light of it: and the kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour into it. And the gates of it shall not be shut at all by day: for there shall be no night there. And they shall bring the glory and honour of the nations into it. And there shall in no wise enter into it any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie: but they which are written in the Lamb’s book of life.”
Here let the reader lay down the book, and in devout silence muse on these “four last things.”