THE NEW EARTH by G. W. A.

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Sep 25, 1860

THE NEW EARTH.

By G. W. A.

THE following graphic description of the earth renewed, is taken from the Rev. A. S. Wightman's "Glance at Creation." If any one can read this elegant portraiture of the restitution without being alike impressed with the descriptive powers of the writer and the scriptural views here set forth, they are of a different cast of mind from ourself. It is also truly refreshing to see men of orthodox faith defending such fundamental truths as contained in the following extract. Without forestalling the present article we simply add, the author has painted out the future of our present sin-cursed world in a manner greatly to edification.

G. W. A.

ThE great and interesting truth, proclaimed to the apostle by the voice of God, during his residence upon the lonely island, in the words, "Behold I make all things new," is a truth upon which even very few professed Christians have bestowed much thought.

No argument is necessary to convince any one, who has proper conceptions of the character of the Creator, that the world which we now possess, came from his fashioning hand with the visible impress of high perfection upon all its features; for anything less than this would be unworthy of the living and all-wise God.

We learn from the Scriptures, that there is to be a restitution of our present very seriously impaired world; and also that Satan's dominion in the same is to come to an end; for when the end of time shall finally come—when Christ "shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father"—then the time will have arrived, "when he shall have put down all rule, and all authority, and power," and when that triumphant work is done, this world will be refined and restored, at least to its paradisiacal state, and then, and not till then, in the full sense of the promise, will the deep, dark marks of Satan's diabolical scourge be obliterated from the world, and his power over the same effectually broken.

This second or renewed Paradise—or Paradise redeemed from the scourge of the devil—will be most lovely and indescribably beautiful in all its phenomena. The heavens will no more be disturbed by storms and tempests, no frightful hurricanes, or devastating tornadoes, sweeping onward in their frightful rage, no dreadful thunderbolts to shake the ground, no lightning's glare to frighten guilty ones, no muttering earthquakes to prostrate temples and swallow cities, nor clouds or fogs to mar the glory of refulgent and perpetual day. There will be no poisonous winds or pestilential blasts; no deadly vapors loading the air and leaving in their march the dead and dying; no sirocco gales, breathing devastation and ruin in their fatal course; no poisonous plants, noxious weeds, briars, thistles or thorns.

The change in the element of water will, doubtless, be very great. "It will be, in every part of the world, clear and limpid, pure from all unpleasing and unhealthful mixtures; rising here and there in crystal fountains, to refresh and adorn the earth with liquid lapse of murmuring stream."

It should be remembered, that the fact is clearly revealed, that "there shall be no more sea;" yet we do not see in what sense its absence could affect the perfection of the new earth. Indeed, all its present space may be occupied by attractions a thousand times more lovely than anything ever yet conceived by the most active imagination.

The new earth will not be subject to extremes of heat and cold, or sudden and fatal changes of the same; no desert sands, perpetually heated by the blazing sun—no frozen regions held in the chains of everlasting Winter—no horrid rocks, yawning chasms, frightful precipices or sinking bogs, to mock the trust of the unfortunate traveler. The charms of that bright world are inconceivable by mortal powers. The poet has sung— > "O! the transporting, rapturous scene, > That rises to my sight, > Sweet fields arrayed in living green, > And rivers of delight."

Yet, smooth and expressive as are his lines, they fall far short of expressing the glory and beauty by which he was inspired to an effort at description.

But the most glorious perfections seen in all the associations of the new earth, will be those enjoyed by the children of God, who, in the fall, in many respects, sank lower than many other parts of creation, and who, in the restoration shall enjoy the greatest elevation.

The rightful occupants of the second paradise, will enjoy all that confidence of, and communion with, God, which was enjoyed by those of the first; and if the views of some eminent men are reliable, they will enjoy higher degrees of perfection than our first parents enjoyed in the garden of Eden, before sin ruined them. No tears shall ever fall from weeping eyes, or sighs escape from heaving bosoms, in that world of bliss that is to be fitted for the residence of God's faithful ones.

O, how comforting the thought, that our time of weeping is so soon to be passed—yes, if faithful to our God, the last pang will soon have wounded our spirit, and the last groan will have escaped from our burdened heart. Tears and sorrow may be endured for a night, if joy but come in the morning. Reader, remember that the pious alone are to "have right to the tree of life." In that blissful region there is to be no more sin, and no more temptation, for all hearts are to be pure; and no tempting Devil will ever be allowed to press the golden pavements of the New Jerusalem with his diabolical foot, or whisper lies into deceived and bewildered ears.

There will be no need of fast-sailing ships to convey men and merchandise from kingdom to kingdom,—a fact much in harmony with the statement of the Apostle, that "there was no more sea,"—for the citizens of that glorious retreat will be far above the necessities and honors of commerce; too rich to need and too holy to desire the profits of trade, and too spiritual to require the food that perisheth.

There will be no need of railroads, for conveying the inhabitants of the land from one part to another, for those who are worthy to dwell there are to be "equal to angels" as to swiftness and strength, and consequently can pass from one side of the sphere with the fleetness of thought—with a velocity that would quickly leave the most powerful locomotive in the shadowy distance.

From the above facts, the lengthened wires of the telegraph would also be a needless appendage, for all communications, at all points, can be instantly and conveniently personal. . . . O! how delightful it will be for fellow-pilgrims—old companions of a common and perilous warfare, honorably and victoriously closed, and in full possession of the glorious rewards of faithful allegiance—to greet and re-greet each other, as easily and frequently as their harmonious sympathies and ecstatic spirits may require.

Another very striking peculiarity of the new earth, will be the absence of death, the presence of which is a prominent feature of the present one, which at best is a vast charnel house—a common cemetery—daily swelling with gathering victims, from the infant of an hour to the infirm and time-worn of "three-score years and ten."

Walk along the silent alleys of "the city of the dead," look upon the marble slabs and imposing monuments, with their inscriptions of fame;

but how ephemeral! just as full of death as are the mouldering forms beneath them, whose dying glories they vainly attempt to perpetuate.

But in the better land—the promised home of the Christian—there will be no mouldering skeletons, no dark sepulchres, no cold, coffined forms, no earthly beds, dismal and damp; the hiding-place of wasting mortality and winding-sheets; no funeral pageants or solemn array of mourners going about the streets; for death's dominion shall be broken, and instead of the marbled paleness and icy chill, there shall be upon every cheek the flush of eternal youth, and in every body the quenchless fires of immortal life.

Instead of labored eulogies to commemorate the deeds of the departed, and chiseled columns to speak their fame, there will be the perpetual bestowal of the truthful approbations of the everlasting Father, and the unwasting records of a blood-bought right to a crown of glory, that shall shine with increasing brilliancy while the undying cycles of eternity shall continue their successions. Who would not wish to be an inhabitant of that fair land, where wasting consumption, burning fevers, pestilential chills, withering pains and loathsome contagion are never known? O! glorious home! O! promised land of the blest! our spirits are longing for thy peaceful and perfect clime, where our sorrows shall be known no more forever.

Such, we think, will be among the many perfections of the promised land. We are sensible that their beauties and very desirable character have only been faintly traced, yet we hope that the outlines have been sufficiently drawn to interest the inquiring and comfort the pious. . . .

Kind reader, since our present interview is nearly closed, permit us to ask you if, as you look out upon the hills and valleys, and walk along the way, you realize that these very hills and vales, over which you pass, perhaps with thoughtless steps, are destined to constitute, in a highly refined and every way improved state, the great and glorious promenade ground of the saints of the Most High God?

Such a destiny awaits the very elements of the ground daily pressed by a thousand hurried feet of those who are in zealous pursuit of the mocking phantoms of an hour, whether such elements form the flinty rocks, the mountain range, the rolling hills, or humble plains.

Let us rejoice that the dawn of our being commenced amidst elements possessing so glorious a future. Here, the earth is often measured by steps, attended by heavy hearts and sighing spirits; but when the same redeemed ones shall walk amidst its enchanting scenery, in its new and glorious state, sorrow and sighing shall be known no more.

Move on, then, ye children of light, although your present way is sometimes rough, and thorns sometimes wound your journeying feet. Move on, in the name of Israel's God, where you shall wear white robes, and wave palms of victory. There shall be no roughness nor thorns in the way, for the immortal earth and immortal feet shall press each other with the gentleness of that charm that must be experienced to be fully apprehended.

But what will be the ecstasies of those who shall be found worthy to enter the celestial city, which is to constitute the great central attraction of the new earth! The heirs of life are not only to be permitted to enter its pearly gates, but are to be received—yes, received, after all, to the honors and privileges of the holy city of God.

O, who can comprehend the perfections and glory of those decorated walls and golden streets, the river of life clear as crystal, the tree of life, growing luxuriantly upon either side of the river, and the throne of God in the midst of all, more lovely and glorious than the most vivid imagination can possibly conceive; and finally, the beatific presence, emitting a transcendently luminous and inexpressibly beautiful halo of light, enriching with the Godhead's charms the whole display of matchless attractions. Such a place—such a city—and such a home of the Christian, gentle reader, shall be the crowning glory of this, at present, sin-cursed world.

Let us, therefore, prize it in view of its high destiny, yield a cheerful and ready obedience to its demands, improve well our residence in it—that we may be its rightful occupants in its higher, holier and eternal state.