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THE SABBATH BELL

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Jan 8, 1894

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 20, No. 10.

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THE SABBATH BELL.

By W. H. Littlejohn

BY W. H. LITTLEJOHN.
I HEAR a solitary bell; It sounds not like a dirge or knell, But with a rapid, cheerful stroke It seems the people to invoke To gather at the house of prayer, Somewhere, somewhere, but where?
This is the seventh day, not the first, As surely as the men of erst Have handed down the reck'ning straight, Commencing at the garden gate Of Eden when the years began. Explain; who can, who can?
I am resolved, this thing I'll do: The throng I'll follow through and through The city streets till they shall pour E'en through the widely open door Of the strange church for which I long— But where's the throng, the throng?
Well, never mind, I'll go alone, And, guided by the deep, rich tone Of that great bell, I'll travel on Till I shall reach, despite the ton, The place of worship of this folk, I know not now what folk?
I'm here at last, for, high in air, The great bell clangs just over there. I'll enter through the portal wide And view the multitude inside Who sit there with a quiet mien; They solemn seem, I ween.
"This building is no synagogue; Each person here's a Gentile dog." With lofty look and cynic air A Jewish rabbi would declare, When asked if Hebrews filled the pews. His words would prove no ruse.
Those gathered now are Christian men, For there I read, "I'll come again." And here I see a crown and cross Most deftly worked with silken floss Upon the screen before the choir. How strange! they shine like fire.
Hard by the desk a tablet stands On which are graven God's commands, And near it a prophetic chart, Whereon a painter by his art Has outlined beasts by prophets seen; In vision seen, I ween.
I'll ask the meaning; no, I'll wait; For, lo! a young man without state Advancing, climbs the pulpit stair, Then, bowing, offers silent prayer, And thus the service is begun. I'll listen till 'tis done.
The preacher his remarks began By stating that it was his plan On that occasion to outline, In briefest form, the faith divine Of those with whom his lot was cast. That plan let him hold fast.
"We think," said he, "that Christ our Lord Will come, erelong, with rich reward For those who his return desire, And that he'll burn with flaming fire The nations that his advent hate, Right here decide your fate.
"The faith of Jesus and commands Of God we're preaching in all lands, A message pure and heaven born, That saints or sinners must not scorn, If they with joy would meet the King. Do not forget this thing.
"The man of sin whom Daniel saw Would think to change God's holy law, Has set aside the day of rest In Eden sanctified and blessed, And put the Sunday in its stead. Avoid a sin so dread.
"The soul that sinneth, it shall die, The prophet said, but now the lie Is given to this statement clear By theologians, who do not fear To teach that all men live for aye. Does God know best, or they?
"The dead know more than those who live, Such is the wisdom preachers give. The living know that they shall die; The dead know nothing, was the cry Of ancient Judah's wisest prince. Are dead men wiser since?
"By some we're told that all the dead Who die impenitent are led By angels to a lake of fire, Wherein, though cast, they ne'er expire, But suffer long as God shall reign. Tell me, are such men sane?
"No wonder that the good should feel Their reason falter, break, or reel, When vainly trying to conceive How God the merciful could leave The masses to a fate so sad. He will not; so be glad.
"'Tis true that wicked men are doomed By fire from God to be consumed; But, if consumed, naught will remain But ashes that can feel no pain. Thus we unending woe disprove. Who can these stakes remove?
"The saints of God, of angels peers, With Christ will spend a thousand years In heaven, then to the earth return To see this planet burn and burn, Till every trace of sin is gone. O happy day, soon dawn!
"From out the ashes of this earth Shall spring a planet which at birth In gorgeous beauty will excel The orb on which we all now dwell, E'en as the sun outshines a star, Tell me, who can, how far.
"The golden city of our God, Whose shining streets have long been trod By holy angels, shall come down To be the glory and the crown, The grand metropolis of earth. Hail thou of heavenly birth!"
"Upon the desert waste will bloom The rose and lily, and perfume Of fruits and flowers load the air, As when in Eden the first pair Surveyed the garden of the Lord. Such is the saints' reward.
"Nor torrid zone, nor frozen pole, Shall exercise a fierce control On any portion of this sphere, But balmy breezes all the year Will prove the clime salubrious. In Eden it was thus.
"On hilltop and in shady dell The lambkin and the wolf will dwell In safety, while there, side by side, The leopard and the kid will bide Without the slightest fear of harm. O world without alarm!
"The soft-eyed calf and lion's whelp Together feed, and, without help, A little child shall lead the twain, Or watch their gambols on the plain, As children watch their household pets. Such joy like joy begets.
"In all the mountain of the Lord There'll be no need to watch or ward. Nor serpent's fang, nor angry bear, Nor aught will harm the dwellers there, Who safely dwell within the wood. 'Tis thus where all are good.
"Upon new moons and Sabbath days They'll come with hymns of lofty praise To worship God on Zion's hill, While every heart with joy will thrill, Too great by far to be expressed. Oh, may we share that rest!"
In this way did the preacher close His sermon, when I quickly rose And left the church, to ponder well The things I'd heard, for, must I tell?— They seemed both beautiful and just. I'll go again, I must.
Battle Creek, Mich.