The Fire-escape!

Francis Bourdillon, 1873

There is a crowd in the street, and a confused sound of voices and feet; terrified faces appear from many a window; and, where but just now, all was wrapped in the stillness of night — but now there is nothing but hurry and bustle. A house is on fire! Not half an hour has passed since the first cry of "Fire!" was heard; yet already the flames have made fearful progress. See how they dart from the lower windows and stretch up the wall, as if eager to reach the upper stories; see what volumes of smoke pour forth! Hearken to the horrible crackling sound that tells of the work of destruction going on within. How intense is the heat, blistering the paint and cracking the panes of the opposite houses! What a glare of flame, lighting up the faces of the crowd! Heaps of furniture lie in the streets — the little that could be saved when life itself was in danger. A few boxes containing the most valuable articles are being hastily carried away, and the terrified inhabitants of the burning pile have already found shelter with neighbors, or are sadly looking on at their home in flames.

How it burns! In vain are torrents of water showered from the fire-engines; they seem but to feed the flame; higher and higher it mounts; point after point does it catch; a few minutes more, and the whole building must be on fire!

"Are all safe?" cries a voice from the crowd, "are all the people out?" At the same moment a shriek of distress is heard; all eyes are turned in the direction from which it comes, and through the rolling smoke, a human figure is seen at one of the topmost windows as yet unreached by the fire.

A loud shout rises from the crowd — a hundred voices cry, "The fire-escape ladder! Where's the fire-escape ladder?"

"It is coming, it is coming!" is the answer. It has already been sent for, but has not yet arrived; all but one have been saved without it.

Messenger after messenger now goes off to hasten it. The crowd waits in breathless anxiety; the figure is still seen at the window. The hands are at one time clasped in despair, at another time, raised aloft and stretched wildly as if to implore help — every minute seems an hour.

In a very short time, though it seemed long indeed — the fire-escape engine turns the corner of the street; a hundred hands are lent to draw it to the spot, and in almost less time than it takes to tell it — they bring it opposite to the burning house, and the huge ladder is reared against the wall. Not a moment is lost; the fire-proof cradle is rigged, and a fireman goes up in it to help the sufferer down. Every eye is fixed on the window — every voice is hushed in breathless interest!

But why this delay? The figure is still there — but seems to shrink back. Is she afraid to venture? It is no wonder, for the height is great, and the volumes of smoke and the roaring flames are enough to frighten the most stout-hearted. But it is her only hope. The fireman seems to reason with her. The crowd below support his appeal. The silence is broken.

"Get in! Get in! You are lost if you don't. Don't wait a moment; the flames will reach you momentarily! Put your foot on the ladder; lay hold of it with your hands. There's nothing to fear; trust your weight to it — and the fire can't get at you. You'll be safe — don't be afraid."

Such are the exhortations which go up from a hundred different voices. They seem to reassure the woman; she puts one foot out, and then with both hands grasps the ladder; again every voice is hushed; the fireman takes hold of her to help her. In another moment, she is in the cradle, and a minute more sees her in the street among the people, unhurt though sorely terrified.

Many a hand is held out for a hearty shake of congratulation, and not a few kind invitations does the poor rescued woman receive: "Come home with me." "My house is but in the next street." — are the offers she hears on every side. The woman is safe. She had been sound asleep, and was only roused by the noise in the street to rush to the window and find, as it seemed, all hope of escape gone. But she is safe.

Safe! How much there is in that word! What a change — from standing shuddering at the window, scorched by the rising flames and fearing every moment to be driven back by their heat, or to hear the crash of the falling floor behind! What a change, to be now standing safe in the street below; with the loss of much, it is true, and with the fire still raging near — but still safe! She thought she would perish; now she knows she is safe. How much that word conveys!

But how much more when applied to the soul! There is a worse fire than burned that house; there is a danger more fearful than that which this woman was in, and there is, thank God, an escape more ready and more sure than that which saved her from the flames.

The fire of which I speak is that eternal punishment reserved for impenitent sinners — the fire that is never quenched (Mark 9:44). The danger is the present state of every unconverted soul, exposed as he is to the just wrath of God. The way of escape is the Lord Jesus Christ Himself, the Savior of sinners, the true and only Deliverer of perishing souls.

Reader, do you believe what God has said about the fire that never shall be quenched (Mark 9:43)? Do you believe that whoever is not found written in the book of life (Revelation 20:15) — will be cast into the lake of fire? And are you alive to the danger, the fearful danger, of living impenitent, unpardoned, unreconciled to God, and therefore exposed to His sore displeasure, with every sin you ever done written in those books out of which you will be judged? I say, are you alive to these things?

If not, how awful is your state! True, you do not fear, but that only increases your danger. If that woman had slept on — then she would have been burned in her bed! It was only when she was aroused to all the horror of her situation, that she sought and found safety.

You are asleep too — asleep and in danger of the eternal flames of Hell. Sin and Satan keep you asleep and will keep you so to your ruin — unless a warning voice reach your ear and your heart and rouse you to escape.

I say to you then, "You are in danger, in danger of eternal wrath, in danger of Hell." They are awful words, but they are true. "The wrath of God is revealed from Heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men" (Romans 1:18). He has said, "The soul who sins, shall surely die" (Ezekiel 18:4). He has declared that these words shall be said to those on the left hand, "Depart from Me, you who are cursed — into everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels" (Matthew 25:41). And, in your present state — would not you be placed on the left hand? And are not you one who have sinned and have not yet had your sins washed out? And have not you been guilty of that ungodliness and unrighteousness against which the wrath of God is revealed from Heaven?

I do not wish to judge — but to warn you. I would not put uneasy thoughts into your mind, but with this object — that you may seek and find peace with God. If I show you that you are lost — it is only with the earnest desire that you may be saved. If you had been sleeping in danger like that woman — then you would not have been angry with the loud voices that woke you. Even if one had come in and shaken you roughly to rouse you — you would but have thanked him for his very roughness. Take this warning in the same spirit; it is only the rough shake of a friend who wishes your good.

Judge yourself. Take yourself up at the judgment bar of your own conscience and God's word — and look well into your state. Do you find yourself guilty, or not? Are you in danger, or not? Do you need mercy and a Savior, or do you not? If you do, then lose no time — awake and "flee from the wrath to come!"

There is a way of escape provided for you — the Lord Jesus Christ. He, the Son of God, was once on earth, in our nature, and here He suffered and died for us. Now He is in Heaven, as our Mediator and Intercessor, and we poor sinners can escape by Him from this city of destruction to the heavenly Zion.

The Lord Jesus Christ is a sure refuge. The fire-escape might not have been at hand — but He is ever ready; the fire-escape might have failed — but He never fails. He is a sure refuge — and the only one. Trust yourself to Him without fear. The woman was saved only by trusting herself to the means provided; she did so and was safe. Do likewise — cast yourself on the mercy of God in Christ; rest your guilty soul on His merits; let go all imagined security — as that woman left her hold of the window-sill, and give yourself up to be saved by Him.

Do you hesitate? So did she at first. But she heard the encouraging voices of the people and the persuasions of him who had come to her rescue — and so she took courage, and trusted herself to the fire-escape and was saved. May you also hear, not only the persuasions of a fellow-creature, a mere man like yourself — but the "still small voice" within, the pleadings of the Holy Spirit, convincing you of sin, warning you of danger, and bringing home to your heart — those blessed invitations of the gospel which assure you of salvation through the blood of Jesus, and call you to look unto Him to be saved.