THE LAST APOSTASY

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Sep 30, 1889

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 15, No. 38.

THE LAST APOSTASY.

THE WEDDING OF CHURCH AND STATE.—AN ALLEGORY.

(Continued.)

THEY passed within the workshop so disguised that none might know them. The dark prince was there. In fact, himself had called this council, and had spread the rumor of the coming wedding, to prepare the nation for the festal day.

Throughout all ranks he had sent ambassadors with letters, telling of the Church and Cæsar, presenting arguments and theories why this match should be, and making men believe 'would be the uplifting of all ranks, and make fair freedom's land all doubly glorious.

His ambassadors, too, with speech of eloquence, told of the evils that would be allayed, the good attained, when this fair match was made; and, though the Prince of Love sent warnings out, aye, sent his angels and ambassadors to entreat men to abstain from this dark work, threatening his judgments if they still went on, they persevered, made light of all the Prince's messages, and with fanatic zeal pursued their task.

But some turned pale to hear the Prince's warning. Some read again the history of the past, when Church and Cæsar before had been as one, when lands were filled with martyrs' piles and graves, and daily tortures wrung men's souls with pain, and inquisitorial flames made smoke so thick that heaven itself was darkened. These drew back, and would not turn a hand to aid the scheme, but rather warned their comrades, as the Prince commanded them.

The Church and Cæsar found seats apart from all, where they could view the people and their work. "See," said proud Cæsar, "we need not be afraid. Our greatest statesmen do approve the thing. All round the workshop, see, they jest and laugh. And there are noble women looking on, who give their taste as how the jewels should mix, and look! the prince's letters have come back signed and indorsed by million, million names; and now to show the nation claps us on, they've twined the workshop with these noble names, upon a scarlet ribbon—your favorite hue."

"Yes," said the lady, smiling joyfully, "Let's go and see the ring they weld us here to make us two as one." It lay upon the case, but still undone, making now fast, now slow; for there was great confusion in the hall. The Prince of Love had sent ambassadors, who ever strove with the enemy's men to stop the making of the ring. And now some jewel was ground to powder, proving naught but paste; and now the apparent gold, tried in the fire, proved but a lump of dross.

"It must not be. This ring must not be made," cried an ambassador. "It is not gold. 'Tis but a glittering mystery of shame to undo the glorious fame of our fair church."

Then rose a bishop of smooth cloth, declaring the ambassador was wrong. It must be gold, since all the hall was lined with names of men who had contributed wealth to make it rich and fine. Make us this ring, and then the Church and Cæsar will go forth together to remedy the evils of the world."

Then spake another. "The ring may well be paste; for names in millions by mere fraud were writ. They represent no wealth of gold or gem. No marvel that your ring is proven dross, its jewels but glass. There is not wealth on earth to give this ring the genuine gold. 'Tis Heaven alone can make a marriage ring, and whom God joins, let no man separate. But God has spoken of this, and made it void. 'Tis not of God, and 'tis not even of man. It must be of the devil, a spurious thing that glitters with paste and brass, but has no ring of worth."

Then men grew warm in argument again, and rose a clergyman, who said he stood to speak for the fair Church, to show the ring must be made strong and firm, or she whom all admired, and could not lose, lest they should lose all order, good, truth, rest, religion, and government, and go to ruin in haste, should be destroyed. He called men to her aid. She could not fight her battles alone; must needs have one to aid her with his power. She could not hold her rightful place, a woman uncrowned, who lived in humble state; for men would not be ruled, save by a queen with appropriate place and power.

"Long have her halls been desolate," said the man. "She speaks fair words, but none will come to hear; for, lo, the world sweeps on to pleasure, or to ruinous toil for seven days each week. The Sabbath's gone, wherein men ought to rest, and the fair Church is robbed of hearers, and Cæsar, too, defrauded; for its government is overturned by vice and crime. Newspapers, games, shows, and ignoble things hold more attention than the fair Church does, and so devotion's lost to heaven and earth. This must be stopped. The world must pause one day, just long enough to listen and be aroused to better things, to learn of the Church, that day, the duty owed to Cæsar for six days more."

"Make us this ring, I say, that gives the Church a husband's arm to bring men to her side, as children to be corrected, if they are saved. Let's spoil no child by sparing rods, I say. Let's make men Christians for one day in seven. Let's put aside a pagan constitution, and write instead in all our books of law, the fundamental principles of faith and code of Christianity. Give men pure doctrines, and a Sabbath-day in which to learn them, and so save our land. Let all our courts be filled with men who wear the Christian cloth and name, and so our land be governed righteously."

Then rose a questioner, and asked, "Would not such law work like a two-edged sword, to cut both ways? Would not men take its privilege to wear a Christian cloth and name o'er pagan hearts, and make a cloak to cover sin, till open sinners were but knaves and sneaks for office sake? Christians cannot be made by law, my friend, else Christ need not have died."

(To be Continued)