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THE FUTURE

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Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jan 3, 1878

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 51, No. 1.

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THE FUTURE.

By Eliza H. Morton

The subject of the second advent of our Lord and Saviour is of deep and thrilling interest, especially to the tried and tempted; for when Jesus reigns in Zion, “sorrow and sighing shall flee away.” His coming will usher in a new and glorious order of events.
We are all subject to decay and death. The grave is a prison which Christ alone can open. Should he never return, death would be an eternal sleep. But, thanks be to God, his coming is sure, and the morning will dawn when the great graveyard of the world will be unlocked, and the long slumber of its inmates be broken. Thousands will spring into life from the ashes of Pompeii and Herculaneum, tens of thousands from the ruins of Nineveh and Babylon, and millions from the catacombs of Rome. The great treasure-house of England—Westminster Abbey—will be opened, and poets, barons, priests, heroes, sages, and kings will march forth from its passages, chapels, and solemn chambers. The wide, unsearchable, ocean grave will give up its dead, and old age, manhood, and infancy will arise in companies from its dark floor and bid defiance to the waves of their wasting, wandering sepulcher. The redeemed of earth will unite in one glad jubilee song of triumph; and princes, potentates, and earthly monarchs will bow in the dust before King David’s Son, who will take the scepter and reign forever.
Exult, then, O man of the world, in your splendid mansion, fine horses, sleek cattle, and smiling lands; for your season of pleasure will have an end. You will retire some night, and sleep on careless of the “voice of the morning;” but know this,—that sleep will be rudely broken and sad will be the awakening. Your eyes will rest upon splendor which can never be yours; and oh the bitter agony of that moment! Gold and silver can not purchase Heaven nor your own salvation, and “lost,” “lost,” will be your sad lamentation.
Rejoice, Christian laborer, in your days of hardship and toil, nights of anxiety and weariness, and years of temptation and trial. Know that your life-work will soon be ended, and in the morning of the resurrection you will awake with a sweet surprise, and find yourself crowned with everlasting joy, a glad citizen of that bright world the light of whose glory you have faintly seen through the broken clouds of earthly sorrow. ELIZA H. MORTON.
Allen’s Corner, Me.