p. 3 | The New Earth by Adolphus Smith

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jun 20, 1871

The New Earth.

By Adolphus Smith

As we walk forth and view the beauties of nature, which have everywhere sprung into being at the bidding of the mellow light and genial warmth of the May-day sun; and as we listen to the sweet notes of the feathered songsters of the early morning, or, at evening, to the mingled mellow sounds that are borne to us on fragrant zephyrs, from hamlet, cot, and field; our minds revert, in comparison, from these sources and scenes of delight, to the pristine loveliness of this earth, and to the promised glory of the “new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness.”

The lilies of the field, like which, Jesus said, “Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed;” and the thousand species of flowers that deck the hills and dales, that blossom by the way-side, in the fields, beside the cottage, in the green house, or in the wood, whose individual existence is often unknown to man, except by the fragrance with which it burdens the air all around (fit emblem of the pure Christian life)—all are tokens of the Eden lost, and pledges of the immutability of the promise of God, that “the wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose.” Isa. 35 : 1.

But when nature is clothed in her most lovely attire, our eyes can scarcely rest upon a point where there are not also evidences of the destroyer’s presence. Beneath the wide-spreading tree in whose shade we enjoy a momentary retreat from the heat of the sun, lies the decaying trunk of a tree that was, in its time, as beautiful and vigorous as the one beneath whose boughs it now lies mouldering into dust. Near by a cradle-knoll witnesses to the mighty resistance offered by the vigorous roots of a gigantic tree to the sweeping gale, and serves as a monument over the dust of former greatness, no other vestige of which now remains. The flowers, though beautiful, are of short duration, quickly withering away. The useful and the beautiful things of this world are not always possessed by the most worthy. The wicked have a larger share of them than the righteous.

This world is now in the possession of the enemy, and the rightful heirs are obliged to pay tribute. The rich of this world are fast absorbing the substance of the poor. Vast amounts of money are expended to support the governments of earth, to suppress the violence of the lawless, and to carry on wars both aggressive and defensive. This money might be expended in beautifying our homes, improving our country, and in rendering every man, woman, and child, on earth, happy in the possession of a competence of earth’s bounties.

But the time is near when the glories of the world to come will be witnessed and enjoyed by those who walk as strangers amid the beauties and defects of this. Here, the flowers fade; but there they wither not. Here, miasmatic vapors, burdening the air, engender disease; there, the inhabitants shall never say, “I am sick.” Here, we plant, but another eats the fruit of our labor, build, but another inhabits; there the reverse of this will be true. Here decay and death are stamped upon all things; but there, “God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away.”

Reader, have you a clear title to a share in the future glories of that blessed land? or does this blighted, sin-burdened earth have a larger place in your heart. If the latter be true of you, I exhort you to cut loose therefrom, and set your affections on things above.

ADOLPHUS SMITH.