THE WARNING VOICE by Uriah Smith

Publishing Committee · Rochester, N. Y. · May 12, 1853

THE WARNING VOICE

By Uriah Smith

-OF-

TIME AND PROPHECY.

BY URIAH SMITH. Conclusion of Part I.

MUCH proof that these plain testimonies, thus Given by Prophecy, confirmed by Time, Deeply had had effect, abundant rose. And to the seventh month, each eager eye Now bent its steady gaze, as there it stood, Like some bright beacon on a lofty height, Lighting a dubious way; thither the band Now bent their eager eyes with steady gaze, Thither their earnest steps, with fervent zeal: While yet the cry, tornado-like, swept on, "Behold the Bridegroom cometh!" borne Sheer through the land on every swelling gale. The Press upraised its voice to speed it on, And bounteous scattered, with unsparing hand, Its winged messengers to swell the theme, Free as the flying leaves of Autumn, sere. And as, with lightning speed, went flaming forth The Chariots of Nahum, speedily, They bore it forward on their destined way, And left its echoes all along their course. The lightning flashed along the wire, where, chained, It waits on man the herald of his will, And wrote it out in characters of flame. Borne on the wings of wind, or steaming forth, It rode across the ocean's crested waves, And far beyond the seas its message bore.

Firmly the followers of Truth pressed on. Lowly and reverent—as now drew near The day where centered all their faith and hope, Where they reposed their confidence entire, That this would close, for aye, the scenes of earth, And consummate their hope, and crown their faith With glorious success, and usher in, Upon their view, scenes of eternal bliss. Lowly and reverent, as this drew near, Before their Sovereign King, prostrate they fall, Of him to gain acceptance, and themselves Prepare to meet him, now so soon to come. More wholly, thus, they their affections wean From things of earth; all controversies heal, All wrongs forgive, and of themselves, and all They may possess, a consecration make, Total to God, and his ennobling truth. For who but saw, with but a hasty glance Over the past, that all those days wherein Blank Disappointment, cold and gloomy sat, On every brow, were but a dash between Prophetic words, to make the meaning clear?

Think not indifferent all this while aloof The foes of truth, calmly behold the move, Or let it silent, or unheeded, pass; Malice and hate, deep seated, and intense, Lit up within their hearts, their scorching fires, Which raged ungovernable, and thro' them wrought Full frequent acts of violence and shame. So when God's children, oft, for worship met, To lift their hearts to him in prayer and praise, And speak that Spirit forth, with which he filled, To overflowing, their devoted souls— For he his glorious cause did freely own, With such out-pourings of his Spirit pure, And of the Holy Ghost such rich descent, As rise o'er every age above compare— While thus assembled to adore their God, In concord sweet, and unity and love, The fierce demoniac yells of Belial's crew, Rang 'round discordant, o'er the songs of truth. And as they journeyed on, from every side, Fell on their ears the harshly mingling din, Of scoffs and mockeries, ridicule and scorn; Which weapons only to their foes remained; For in the open field, in contest fair, Based on the testimony of God's word, Long since their ablest champions silenced were, With ignominious route; the two edged sword, So bravely wielded by these pioneers Of truth, whose blade with subtlest keenness pierced, They quailed before, unable to endure; Nor wished but once its naked edge to tempt: Glad if they might but reach some distance safe, To shield themselves, and be content to urge The rabble on, to open deeds of hate.

All this but served to strengthen in the faith, These candidates for life eternal more; Who ever bore in mind, that perilous times, In the last days, shall come; when men shall be Of their own persons lovers, covetous, Blasphemers, boasters, proud, from parents due Obedience withholding, and of all Natural affection shorn, incontinent, Unholy, thankless, and accusers false, Breakers of truce, and fierce, of all the good Despisers, heady, traitors to their trust, Of pleasures greater lovers than of God; Who have of godliness, the form, but all The power deny—from such, turn ye away. When such as these they numberless behold, And waxing worse and worse, seducers saw, And evil men deceiving and deceived— Heedless their warnings—while unnumbered signs Thickened around, and rose upon the way— Signs, such as Inspiration's pen defines, As certain tokens, and precursors, sure, Of the great day of God—then on their faith Stepped they entire, to wait the near result.

Up to the seventh month, meanwhile, the world, Under Time's rapid hand was rolling on, Nearing th' appointed day; the warning notes, "Behold the Bridegroom cometh," closing up, Speedy and faithful, now, their destined work; A company to summons forth, prepared And waiting, longing, for their Lord's return: And works, than which nought louder speaks, their Now seconded, and gave their witness in. [faith Wide spread throughout the land, ungathered fruits, Ready long since to swell the Winter's store, Than words could do, louder, by far, proclaimed, "The Lord is coming;" while the fields, unreaped, Nodded their heads of yellow grain, and sere, As if t' affirm, "The Lord is at the door." Such was the faith, through deeds made manifest, That all things common made, and with the world, All dealings closed, and only did prepare, And only looked to the appointed day, When they for better scenes the earth should leave. Such was the faith, through deeds made manifest, Enraged the wicked, and condemned the world; Whom mixed emotions ruled, as near'd the day— More anxious waited as more near it drew— Of doubt, and hate, suspense, and rage and fear; For proof, they could not answer, that the Lord Then would appear, had plenteous been given; And on the tables plain the vision had Been made, that even he who runs might read— And for th' event, a band preparing now, They saw, their faith by works revealing, and Themselves, they saw, well warned and faithfully.— Not so, whom faith and hope led on, the saints: They, with full confidence assured, and bold, With glorious hope, and expectation high, That from foreknowledge spring, and living faith That they should then receive their rich reward, Joyous awaited the approaching hour. Meantime the distance shortens; weeks depart, Weeks, intervening, dwindle into days, Which soon alone remain, while brighter burns Hope and the love of God, among the saints, And from their ranks, songs of thanksgiving rise, And shouts of praise, up to their glorious King, Whom they so soon caught up will be to meet. In such proportion, so much fiercer, burns 'Mong all the wicked, malice, wrath and hate, Though fearful, lest the warning yet be true. To hours are days reduced—to moments hours— Fast sifting through the ceaseless glass of Time; Till dawns at last the much expected day; In dead suspense and breathless stood the world. The wise prepared it found, and waiting then To make their exit to their glorious home; But ah! it passed away, and, waiting, still, Left them all here; no King from heaven appeared; The world breathed easier and calmly Time's Great wheels moved on, unstopped, and undisturbed. Now other sights than unity and love, Prepare to see, and other sounds to hear, Than songs of praise, and harmony and peace; For saddening sights now crowd upon the eye, And on the gale now saddening sounds go forth. The time pass'd by, but bro't no outward change! Heavy the blow came down, with crushing weight, On that devoted flock, as if 'twould send Hope, reeling, to its grave; and faith destroy; And to destruction scatter all belief; And blot out trust in truth or prophecy. Through every trusting heart, like some keen shaft With triple barbs it pierced: and tore away, A shield from off their breast, and from their grasp An anchor wrested; while they stood exposed, E'en as shorn lambs to the bleak, wintry blast.. This Satan saw, and glad, and with a howl, Of joy, in part, at their defenceless state, And part in hope of desperate revenge, Goaded his legions on to furious charge. Ah! then how from their wrathful eyes of sin, Glared horrible the demon; how they hurled, How spitefully and venomously hurled, At holy innocence their poisonous darts Of sin-constructed calumny and lies. Ah! then with what malicious insolence, From their foul lips they breathed their bitter taunts And sneeringly, "not gone up yet?" inquired. But how upon their open fronts fierce blew The raging hurricane of worldly scorn,

Revilings, and reproach, and falsehoods foul— Which, even the Father of all lies himself Ashamed would be to own, but these his imps Most greedily devour—pass by; for these Were weapons, not the worst—would they had been, But they were not, as shortly will appear. As one, who, heavy stunned, confounded stands, Bewildered, speechless, so the band now stood; But thus not long; for their condition, soon, They to examine, narrowly begin; The cause to search, why thus forlornly left In this, so sudden, unexpected, state, Shieldless, defenceless, and unmailed against The direst blow of Disappointment's dart. Of all the past a retrospect they take, And close examine all the way they've come. The grounds of their position they review, And re-review; and all the causes sound, And sound the reasons of their bold belief. Yet naught to militate against the Word, Do they discern, or yet, the hidden cause Of their sad disappointment ferret out. Perplexing thoughts, perplexing queries rise; Are then the days whereof the Angel spoke, Rightly commenced, or rightly followed down? Now hist'ry, searched most thoroughly at first, Was searched again, more thorough than before. The Word of Truth was searched, and prophecy With prophecy compared, and side by side With history, and history all proved, And prophecy all proved, that all was right. There stood the days, a mighty pillar, firm, Grounded secure upon eternal truth, Nor can it hence be moved, though 'gainst it all The battering-rams of Satan fiercely play— Rightly commenced, and therefore ended now. If ended, then, why do the wheels of Time Still roll along; and why no King appear, Flaming from heaven to close the scenes of earth? Who can this mystery solve? Satan makes haste, And answering this, thus whispers in their ear: "This is a mystery never will be solved; Wholly astray, thus far, have ye been led, Deceived by lying teachers; time has proved Your views all groundless, and your theories false; And that the prophecies man cannot read. Come back, then, to your station, where remain— If ye'll but turn, and give these idle tales Up to the winds—respectability, And wealth, and honor; nor thus longer make Yourselves ridiculous before the world." Ah! then, that grisly demon, Treason, burst Wide through their ranks, and furious havoc wrought, While grim, old Unbelief, with awful front, And hideous visage, with his war-club made Most murderous assault; and far around His hateful daughter, Doubt, insidious crept, To poison truth, and stir sedition up. Then wild, wild, work was there in an evil hour. Many with sacrilegious hand, and rash, (What madness seized!) their garb of righteousness, Spotless and pure, to countless fragments stripped, Stripped from themselves, then blindly back again Into the mire of worldliness deep plunged. Others, rash hands, nor sacrilegious less, Upon their own belief laid violent, And wildly tore it into ruin down; Then from the sad remains as wildly turned, And gave themselves up to the world again. And many too, (say of what fiend possessed?) With impious daring trampled to the ground All faith, and trampled hope, and cast aside All confidence, and raised their voices, high, To censure now the way they once had praised, And call it error's path, delusion-paved; And urge, with gestures vehement, the rest To turn with them, nor longer be deceived. But yet a few, a faithful few remain; Whom Treason cannot move, nor Unbelief, Nor Doubt corrupt, nor Satan's glossy lies; Who, as becomes the humble saints of God, Without a murmur, to their trust prove true; Who, from the wasting sights around, now turn Their sorrowing eyes, and from the fearful sounds, Their ears, and, with a saddened heart, still cling, Firm to their glorious hope, and look to God. Thus hold, a little while, ye sons of light! For God will soon, as ye shall hear anon, His own expounder prove, and make all plain; For ne'er will he his people thus lead forth, To disappoint and let them perish then; But yet, a second time, his hand will set, To save a remnant of the scattered flock.