Yes, Thank God!

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · May 9, 1871

THERE is rest—many an interval of saddest, sweetest rest—even here, where it seems as if evening breezes from that other land, laden with fragrance, played upon the cheeks, and lulled the heart. There are times, even on the stormy sea, where a gentle whisper breathes softly as of Heaven and sends into the soul a dream of ecstasy which can never again wholly die, even amidst the jar and whirl of waking life. How such whispers make the blood stop and the very flesh creep with a sense of mysterious communion! How singularly such moments are the epochs—the few points that stand out prominently in the memory after a flood of years has buried all the rest, as all the low shore disappears, leaving only a few rock-points visible at high tide!