“Heaven and Earth Shall Pass Away, but my Words Shall not Pass Away.”
By S. M.
Who of us has not known of the fearful fires in the West? Who has not thought, even the poorest among us, of something we could send to the suffering? Who has not almost held his breath while reading the graphic accounts—the fire roaring furiously, making such a noise with the wind that the bells of the great city could not be heard? Who has not been moved, through and through, to pity, as well as horror, in hearing of the many villages which have fallen in the flames, with so many precious lives, each one freighted with its many joys and sorrows, hopes and fears? Who of us can imagine the fearful sight of living sheets of fire, sweeping along with the noise of Niagara, leaping from house to house, sometimes jumping a quarter of a mile in its mad course, to catch hold of some new material for its fury? Oh, what a sight! what a story! And who of us, in our quiet homes, when hearing the wind roar at night, will not offer a prayer for our own safety, lest the rushing elements combined destroy all that is dear to us? But this fire has been stopped. The blessed rain quenched the flames, and although desolation reigns, yet safety also reigns, and the scattered families may again group themselves together, and commending themselves in thankfulness to God, may still retrieve their blighted fortunes. The fire is stayed; thank God for that! But there is a time coming, certainly coming, though we know not the day, when there will be a fire which cannot be put out, when not one city alone, but hundreds and thousands of cities will be flaming, when not one village, but the whole country, yea, the whole world, will be on fire. It will come when the sons of men are eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, when all things will be as they are now, as they were to the slumbering inhabitants of Peshtigo, when they, unconscious and fearless, awoke to death. The winds will roar, the cities will fall, humanity will shriek, helpless and despairing of shelter, and crash after crash will tell the story. The air will be on fire, the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth, and all things therein, shall be burnt up. No escape, no running to the prairies, no fleeing for shelter to cellars, no hiding place from the fire, for it will be everywhere; from the bowels of the earth it will come, from fissures and caves it will pour forth. The waters of the sea will be dried up, and in their place will be waves of fire rolling and tossing in the raging wind. No help, no escape; voices will be drowned in the roar of the monster as he rushes for his doomed prey. Mothers will call to their children, husbands to their wives, brothers to sisters, all will rush frantically, seeking for refuge, but in vain. It will soon be over. Am I drawing a horrible picture without truth? Is there any foundation for such fearful forebodings? Listen to God's own words: “The heavens and the earth which are now, by the same word are kept in store, reserved unto fire against the day of judgment, and perdition of ungodly men.” “The day of the Lord will come as a thief in the night, in the which the heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth, also, and the works that are therein shall be burned up. Seeing then that all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness, looking for and hasting unto the coming of the day of God, wherein the heavens, being on fire shall be dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat?” I leave these few thoughts, only repeating the question, and commending it to the thoughtful, prayerful consideration of every rational being. —S. M. in Advocate and Guardian.