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Review and Herald, Vol. 23, No. 12.

The Present Age:

Review and Herald

Feb 16, 1864

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Feb 16, 1864

The Present Age:

By Bonar

ITS BOASTED PROGRESS DELUSIVE.

(Concluded.)
Along with his boast of progress, the age boasts of its liberality. Let us look at this, and see how far it can make its boasting good. True liberality is a blessed thing; for it is but another name for the love that "beareth all things," that "thinketh no evil," that "rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth." With this, however, the liberality of the age has nothing in common. Its essence is indifference to sin and error. Its object is to smooth down the distinctions between good and evil; between holiness and sin; between the church and the world; between Protestantism and Popery; between the belief of God's Word and Infidelity, or Atheism. All its saying and doings in government, in the legislature, in society, in corporations or private intercourse, are based upon the axiom that there is no real difference between these things, or, at least, that if there be, it is not discoverable by man; so that man is not only not responsible for acting upon it, but it would be intolerance and presumption in him to do so. Kings are, therefore, to rule as if there were no such distinction, forgetting by whom they reign. Judges are to know no such distinctions, forgetting that they are to judge "in the fear of the Lord."
Society is to be constructed without reference to any such distinction, as if the Bible were not the basis of all society. But is not this calling good evil, and evil good,—putting darkness for light, and light for darkness,—putting bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter?
We see this liberality in the kind things spoken of Infidelity,—in the praises of Popery; in the sneers against Protestantism, as being by its very name a system of illiberality. Education from which God is shut out, and in which the Bible has no place, is contended for, even by men who call themselves religious; and this is named liberality. To attend mass in a Popish cathedral; to listen to the blasphemies of Socinianism for the sake of the eloquence of the preacher; to hold fellowship with the avowed infidel for the sake of science; to sit at the table of the licentious, on the score of his artistic fame,—these are common things amongst us, and all are honored by the name of liberality; because our fathers condemned these things; because "they abhorred that which was evil, and cleaved to that which was good;" they are branded as intolerant and narrow-minded; and because our own age has thus filled up the gulf between the good and the evil, it is honored with the name of enlightened.
Thus to blot out the difference between truth and error has been the feat of the age. For this it praises itself, pitying the littleness and contractedness of other days and other minds. In so doing, it forgets that no man is narrow-minded who expands to the full circle of truth, and that the first step beyond that is contractedness of spirit. Latitudinarianism is not true liberality; indifference to error is not true liberality, unless it can be shown that the Bible, the Book of truth, is equally latitudinarian, and equally indifferent to error. It is an appalling fact, that men, with the Bible in their hands, should deny the distinction between truth and error; and then as if ashamed of what they had done, call it by the venerated name of liberality. But it is a more appalling fact, that men should give, as the reason for this indifference, that truth is not discoverable, thereby throwing the blame upon God for having given a Bible so vague, so ambiguous, so unmeaning, that no one reading it can certainly gather what is truth or what is error.
This liberality, however, turns out to be a one-sided principle. Its toleration of error is unqualified and unconditional, almost as if the fact of its being error entitled it to toleration, and even encouragement. Its toleration of truth is grudging, meagre, restricted. Nay, it only consents to tolerate truth on condition that its supporters will not contend for it too decidedly, but will bring it considerably down to the level of error. Thus, though assuming a Protestant name, its deference to popery is unlimited; while its hatred of all that is decided and essential-in Protestantism is deep and unconcealed. It finds many excuses for the Popish claim of infallibility, but none for the Protestant assertion of the full and thorough inspiration of the word of God. It palliates the Popish system of monastic vows, but detests and denounces the Scriptural doctrine of separation from the world. It praises and associates with a Papist that believes in the lying legends of saints, and in the virtue of dead men's bones, or in the immaculacy of the Virgin Mary; but it rejects, as silly and insipid, the acquaintanceship of the man who reads his Bible, and loves his Saviour, and walks humbly with his God. Its sympathies are all practically on the side of those very errors it professes to reject, and its hostilities are directed against those very truths which in words it owns.
The age also boasts of its religion as a part of its progress. With many, religion is mere philosophic speculation upon truth connected with man's soul. With others, it consists in admiration for the Bible, as a book of literary excellences. With others, it is the adoption of a creed, or connection with a church. With others, it consists in bustle and outward zeal. In all, it lacks life,—that deep, intense, glowing life, which so marked it in earlier times. Its root is not in the conscience, but in some outer region of the soul, which does not bring us into close and living contact with Jehovah himself. It is a thing of the imagination, or of the intellect, or even of the affections, but not of the conscience. There can be no religion which has not its seat there. The hindrance to living religion is the want of a "purged conscience," and till the conscience has been purged from dead works, there can be no real religion,—no true service of God. How little is there of conscience in the religion of the day! Hence that lack of simplicity, of freshness, of serenity, which we should expect. Hence its hollowness and shallowness.
The religion of the day is an easy-minded religion; a religion without conflict and wrestling, without self-denial and sacrifice; a religion which knows nothing of the pangs of the new birth as its commencement, and nothing of the desperate struggle with the Devil, day by day, making us long for resurrection-deliverance, for the binding of the Adversary, and for the Lord's arrival. It is a second-rate religion,—a religion in which there is no largeness, no grandeur, no potency, no noble-mindedness, no elevation, no self-devotedness, no all-constraining love. It is a hollow religion, with a fair exterior, but an aching heart,—a heart unsatisfied, a soul not at rest, a conscience not at peace with God; a religion marked, it may be, by activity and excitement, but betraying all the while the consciousness of a wound hidden and unhealed within, and hence unable to animate to lofty doings, or supply the strength needed for such doings. It is a feeble religion, lacking the sinews and bones of hardier times,—very different from the indomitable, much-enduring, storm-braving religion, not merely of apostolic days, but even of the Reformation. It is an uncertain religion; that is to say, it is not rooted in certainty; it is not the outflowing of a soul assured of pardon, and rejoicing in the filial relationship between itself and God. Hence, there is no liberty of service, for the question of personal acceptance is still an unsettled thing; there is a working for pardon, but not from pardon. Hence all is bondage, heaviness, irksomeness. There is a speaking for God, but it is with a faltering tongue; there is a laboring for God, but it is with fettered hands; there is a moving in the way of his commandments, but it is with a heavy drag upon our limbs. Hence the inefficient, uninfluential character of our religion. It does not tell on others; for it has not yet fully told upon ourselves.
These are some of the features of the age. Such is its progress. Such are its prospects of self-regeneration, or world regeneration. Alas! how little in all this do we see of God! How little can we detect, in these movements of the Spirit of God! There is a movement, doubtless; nay, not one movement, but many. But how much of this is the work of the Holy Spirit,—of Him who alone can reform an age or regenerate a world? How much from above, and how much from beneath? How much onward and upward, and how much backward and downward? Is not the age one which is especially grieving, nay, quenching the Spirit? And in many of these things which are counted progress, are we not grieving him most signally and awfully? Instead of setting our face steadfastly to go after Christ, are we not following after Antichrist, in his manifold delusions, in which, by mixing up truth and falsehood, he is seeking to deceive the very elect? Instead of putting ourselves under the teaching of the Spirit, are we not taking the false guidance of the evil one, now clothed in the fair disguise of radiant knowledge, and going before us as an angel of light, to mislead and ruin?
Not as though some strange thing were happening to us. We look for no times of righteousness in these last days. We have been warned to expect evil, and not good,—progressive evil, not progressive good,—until the Lord come.
The age of progress is not the present; it is the age to come. In the present there is the development of evil,—in the future, the development of good. Man is now putting forth his power to the utmost in efforts after progress. Poor progress at the best, yet much boasted of! It is but man's progress; it is but finite development. Man is now put to the proof. He is allowed to do his best, and he is given time to do it in. God will not hinder the attempt, nor hurry him in making it. Full time, ample scope, large opportunity, will be granted. Man ruined a world; it is to be proved whether he can rebuild it. He ruined it in a day; he is given six thousand years to attempt its reconstruction. His downward progress was swift enough; it is to be tried whether his upward progress will be as rapid, or whether there can be such a thing as upward progress at all, when he is left alone. God has been putting him to the proof. He says to him, "Try to govern the world;" man tries it, but fails. He says to him, "Try to regenerate a world;" he tries it, and fails. He says to him, "Fertilize the earth;" he tries it, and fails. He says to him, "Try to advance,—make progress,—increase in knowledge;" man tries it, and fails. It will not do. Man's day has been a long one; but it has been a day during which, in all possible circumstances, and with all advantages, he has been proved helpless, ignorant, evil; unfit to rule, and unfit to be left without a ruler; unfit to teach, and unwilling to learn; unfit to be entrusted with the care or management of aught within the world's wide circle,—from the atom of crumbling dust beneath his feet, up to his own imperishable interests.
When God has made this proof to the universe of man's utter incapacity; when he has demonstrated man's unworthiness of trust, and inability for any progress, save a downward one; he sets him aside as "a despised and broken vessel," in order to bring in the "greater man,"—aye, the greater than man, even his own eternal Son. The great experiment of 6000 years is now drawing to a close. The vast but awful demonstration is now nearly complete. The case is most manifestly going against man. King, prince, noble, peasant, beggar; statesman, diplomatist, master, parent, child, servant; poet, philosopher, artist, mechanic,—all have had their long age of trial, and all have failed. The verdict will soon be given, and the sentence pronounced.
At this crisis we now stand. At the close of a long series of experiments, made to see what man could do, we find the world as wicked and lawless (to say no more) as at the first. Peace has not spread her reign among the nations, nor misrule departed. Righteousness does not sit on the throne of the nations, nor does holiness beautify the homes of the children of men.
Man's merchandise is not consecrated to God, nor his wealth laid at the feet of Jesus. The heart remains still deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. Oppression, murder, cruelty, selfishness, lust, sedition, strife and hatred, are still uneradicated, unsubdued, unmitigated. Man has found no cure for these maladies. They rage on, but he is powerless. The curse still pervades the earth and poisons the air. Man cannot disinfect it. The thorn and thistle still shoot up their prickly memorials of the primal sin. Man cannot uproot them. Disease still haunts the body, and man says, "Depart," in vain. The "rooted sorrow" still keeps place in memory, scorching health's freshness, and tearing down life remorselessly,—man vainly endeavoring to pluck it out. Death still smites down its daily myriads, and man tries in vain to bribe or disarm it. The grave still receives the loved, and preys upon the beautiful,—man pleading in vain that it should give back the joy of his heart and the desire of his eyes!
Such are the fruits of the first Adam's doings, and such the powerlessness of his children to remove so much as one of the ten thousand evils. It has been proved that man can ruin, but not restore, a world. His attempts at restoration have been sad and mischievous failings. His attempts at progress have been abortive; so that progress in evil, progress in alienation from God, is the feature of greatest prominence in his history.
But this progress in evil has a limit. God has set bounds to it which it cannot overpass. He will not allow this earth of his to be totally a hell. He will make the sin of man to praise him, and he will restrain the remainder thereof. A certain amount and a certain duration he will allow, but no more. Neither of these is indefinite; and we seem to be nearing their boundary.
It is well. For then shall the good displace the evil, and the blessing the curse. The second Adam is at hand, and with him, the kingdom and the glory. He brings the cure. He knits the broken world. He rebukes disease and sorrow. He binds death. He rifles the grave. He delivers creation. He sets up a righteous, peaceful throne. He draws aside the curtain that hid heaven from earth, making them as one,—the inner and the outer chamber of the one tabernacle of Jehovah,—and setting up the true Jacob's ladder, on which the angels shall be seen ascending and descending, still ministering in holy service to him and to his saints in the day of the kingdom, as heretofore they have done in the day of tribulation and shame.
That is the age of progress! What progress, when God shall set his hand to it! In the light of that ever-widening knowledge, in the blaze of that ever-brightening glory, how poor, how vile, shall seem the progress of the dishonored past! Not merely like age's recollection of childhood's trivialities and wasted time, but like morning's remembrance to the drunkard of last night's revelry and lust; like the King of Babylon's remembrance of his seven years' sojourn with the beasts of the field!—Bonar.

He Giveth his Beloved Sleep.

As to the grave-yard oft I hie, This thought doth o'er my spirit creep: Though here the forms of loved ones lie, He giveth his beloved sleep,
Brightly o'erhead the moon doth shine, And glowing stars their vigils keep, All seem to say—no more repine, He giveth his beloved sleep.
For e'er beneath the vaulted sky, Earth's clods will o'er my dear ones heap, Yet still these words check every sigh, He giveth his beloved sleep.
Naught shall disturb their sweet repose, Though o'er the sky dark clouds may sweep, Through summer's heat, and winter's snows, He giveth his beloved sleep.
The storms may lower, the earth may quake, Forked lightnings o'er these graves may leap, No thunder can their slumbers shake, He giveth his beloved sleep.
At my beloved's grave I kneel, And in my loneliness I weep, Yet here 'tis joy to know and feel, He giveth his beloved sleep.
If by their side I too should rest, May those I love this solace keep, Blest be the sleeping, ever blest,— He giveth his beloved sleep.

Our Country.

WHAT IS TO BECOME OF IT?

It is a pet notion with many to set this country forward as the true Israel. This ingenious perversion of the Holy Scriptures is for the purpose of flattering our people with the hopes and promises made to Israel. But there is another side to the appropriation. If we are Israel, we must expect Israel's judgments and desolations. And whether we will or not, God seems to have taken us at our word, and to be resolved to deal with us accordingly. We have now been suffering for years under strifes, storms, and corruptions which have already imparted to our political and social economy a complexion of no encouraging sort: reduced us to a condition, in general, which no one hitherto seemed to think possible; and given mysterious forebodings of the future, not very comfortable to the patriolaters who have been expecting so much peace and glory from the object of their adoration.
We have had fourth-of-July celebrations, thanksgiving-days, fast-days, and plenty of occasions made to hand, and to call out the country's ingenuity and eloquence in self-laudation, on which men high in position have uttered themselves with great freedom over the divine glories and redemptive mission of our nation, and given out large hopes of the impossibility of any serious or lasting damage ever happening to our liberties or institutions. It is lamentable to see how men of piety and research have thus been deluding themselves, and those who look to them for guidance. There is, perhaps, no department in which we have more erred and sinned than in this. And, as others have spoken without reserve on the one side, we may be permitted to direct attention to a few statements, for the consideration of such as are willing to look at things in the light of Scripture and fact, on the other.
There are those who think that our country is yet in its youth, and just maturing for a career of glorious promise, and that it is impossible, on this account, for it to be overwhelmed in the fierce and bloody agitations which we are suffering, or from any other cause. We see not the least force in this line of argument. Our country is not so youthful, even in years, as some seem to persuade themselves. Full three generations have passed away since the birth of its independence,—quite time enough to develop and decide what manner of people we are,—and in experience, self-importance, and general advancement our country is older than many nations that have lived five times as long.
But, even admitting that we are yet in comparative youthfulness, and that immense capacities and advantages have been lavished upon us, which as yet have played but a small part in the activities of the world, what does it signify? How many a costly and well-built ship, with everything planned and promising for the service of successive generations, has been wrecked and lost on its very first voyage! How many a noble young man, with every endowment of nature, position and education for a long life and exalted destiny, has been cut off in the opening of his usefulness and distinction, with all the high promises which clustered round him unfulfilled! And the Sovereign Disposer of all things may just as well deal in the same way with nations.
There are others who believe that the perpetuation and spread of our particular ideas and institutions are so linked with the civilization, enfranchisement, and conversion of the world, that we certainly are safe, whatever may transpire. The Anglo-Saxon race at least is that to which multitudes assign this sublime mission. This, too, we regard as entirely a delusion. The Anglo-Saxon race, indeed, has much to distinguish it from the general mass of mankind. It has played a conspicuous part in the world's progress in intellectual culture, inventions, enterprise and wealth; but it needs quite too much civilizing, enfranchising, and conversion itself, to be looked to for the accomplishment of so much. How can it achieve for mankind what it has never been able to achieve for itself? "Like begetteth like;" and if it could, even in the slow process of centuries, bring the rest of the world to its own status, what would it be but an immoral world,—a materialistic, skeptical, unsanctified world,—a world tenfold more the servant and thrall of the devil than a child and worshiper of the true God? It would neither be at peace with him, itself, nor in harmony with heaven, and, in the ordinary course of things, never could be. With all the godliness, faith, saintship, missionary fervor, and real nobility which have been developed among the Anglo-Saxons, estimated with respect to their superior privileges, the most wicked, godless, hypocritical, atheistic, and heaven-defying people on earth have been, and to this day are, these selfsame Anglo-Saxons. Look at but a few facts.
It is the Anglo-Saxon race which claims to be the depository of the true Christian religion: and yet it is the stay of Mohammedan empire and its antichristianism, and even encourages and protects paganism itself at some points, with all their vast, besetting, and dehumanizing abominations. It is the Anglo-Saxon race which boasts of being the great apostle of the principles of righteousness and just government, and yet poisons millions of the Chinese annually, enforcing the infliction with armed fleets; takes America from the Indians, and the Scinde from its lawful possessors, by robbery and murder; kills races of men toget territory to which it has no claim; makes treaties to plunder those who enter into them, breaks them to gain lands, blows the helpless to atoms because they dare to renounce and seek self-preservation by force of arms.
The Anglo-Saxon race professes to be the messenger of peace, yet carries a sword ever warm with blood, and often with the blood of its own immediate kindred. The Anglo-Saxon race gives itself out as the missionary of Heaven, and the evangelizer of mankind; yet it is earth's most successful propagandist of atheism, infidelity, and resistance to lawful authority; the educator of nations in rebellion and supreme selfishness. In a word, the Anglo-Saxon race is an embodiment of the same depraved humanity found everywhere upon earth, only a little better cloaked with Pharisaism, a daring falsehood, and the spirit of worldly gain, a little more plentifully sentimental, a little more unfalteringly self-idolatrous, and a little in advance of the apostate nations on their way to the judgments of God Almighty. So far from looking to such a people as the predestined instruments to convert and regenerate mankind, we feel rather, with a certain divine of England, that "the depression of the Saxon race is absolutely necessary for the moral and religious improvement of the world." So far from being the redeemer which men would have it, it needs rather to be put out of the way, that the promised redemption may come. At any rate, there is in it nothing hopeful upon which to calculate upon security for our country.
God can do without this nation of ours, if he sees fit just as well as with it. He could reject and humiliate his own chosen people, "to whom pertained the adoption, and the glory, and the covenants, and the giving of the law, and service of God, and the promises," without detriment to his purposes in the earth. No nation, any more than any man, is necessary to him. And for like reasons for which he destroyed Jerusalem he may also cast us down from the eminence of which we have become so boastful and vain. And this idolatry of self and country; and substitution of human devices, agencies, and arrangements in the place of the proper Saviour, and building up of men in hopes not at all warranted in the revealed plan of God, so characteristic of nearly all our thinking and theology, must themselves go far to hasten the coming of judgments to sweep away the occasion and instrument of such mischievous delusion.
We do not suppose that other forms of human government are so much wiser and better than our own.
All human governments are defective, unreliable, and transient; and there is no basis in true theology, morals, or religion upon which to except ours, or upon which we can rightfully hope for that excellent and world-regenerating destiny which public men, in church and state, have been so loud and confident in claiming and proclaiming. Dr. Duffield once said, "I know no safe depositary of power among mortal men for the purposes of government. Tyranny and oppression, in church and state, under every form of government, social, civil, ecclesiastical, monarchical, aristocratical, or democratic, have, sooner or later, characterized the governments of earth, and done so from the beginning. . . . It is the sway of heaven alone that can redeem this fallen world." It was truth he uttered. There is but one rightful and competent governor of earth; and He is a King. He is absent now. And while He is absent, and the literal setting up of His kingdom is delayed, there will be nothing but disappointment, revolution, and trouble in all human calculations and affairs. The philosophy of Providence, as conducted throughout the whole period of his absence, is to prove to men, by the failure of all their multiform experiments, that they can neither save, nor happily govern, themselves. God has also plainly declared it to be his purpose to "overturn, overturn, overturn," until He comes to whom all judgment has been given, and in whose righteous reign alone the world for the first time since the fall, shall have peace. How, then, can it be otherwise than that our particular institutions are also among the things that shall perish and disappear?
Nor are we among those who see too much good, piety, prayer, faith, and Christian enterprise and devotion among our citizens, for God to mete to us a destiny of nearing affliction and dishonor. There is virtue and godliness in the land; but it is scarce, often much alloyed, and almost entirely neutralized. It has no ways of making itself felt effectively upon the body politic. It is vastly in the minority, where majorities rule with absolute sway. And, by a sort of common law, it is excluded from the scenes and sources whence the controlling powers in the working of our system issue. All that piety can do is, to preach and pray, lament and suffer; whilst wickedness lifts itself into high places, and even virtue is sought to be used as an instrument of selfishness and sin. And for men to count on the preserving power of that which they continually stifle, or seek to use as self and ambition dictate, only enacts a deeper complication of hypocrisy and guilt, which calls the louder for the very judgments which it is thought to avert. How poor is the hope of the salvation of our country furnished by the feeble saintship of the pious few whom our politicians scorn to listen to or to imitate!
There is also an alarming offset to this piety and faith, to which some trust so much for the stability and continued prosperity of our American institutions. That man must be blind indeed, or have radically erroneous ways of estimating political and national virtue, not to perceive what corruption and decay have been going on for the last twenty years in every department of our government, executive, judicial, and popular,—from the smallest municipality or corporation, to the highest State or general legislature, or supreme court. It is folly to talk of the rule of principle, reason, and right in the management of any of our public affairs. It is party, passion, and self-aggrandizement which hold the reins of umpire and control all our elections. There is not a single stability of virtue which our politicians, or their adherents, will not sacrifice, the moment they believe they can thereby secure their selfish ends unpunished. The most positive promises, the most unequivocal professions, and all the binding solemnities of an oath, are as nothing upon the consciences of the great mass of our public men.
Their highest aims are distinction, power and plunder. Even the Churches, and so-called Benevolent Societies themselves, are not free from the workings of the unholy spirit; and the activity of many of them has no other spring than that which animates the common demagogue. "We speak that we know, and testify that we have seen." The whole moral stamina of the nation, public and private, political, commercial, social, and ecclesiastical, is fearfully diseased and weakened. "Instead of the wisdom, the rectitude, the benignity, the self-denial, that are requisite to the high office of bringing the world back to allegiance to God, the people of the United States are showing that they have not enough even to prize and preserve the eminent blessings with which they themselves are intrusted, but are carelessly and wantonly dashing them from their hands. Vast crowds, at least, setting at defiance the laws alike of God and man, are plotting and perpetrating crimes and mischiefs of gigantic dimensions, drenching their hands in blood, and ready to plunge the nation into a fathomless gulf of sin, wretchedness, and ruin. The world never before beheld a spectacle more unsuitable to a people professing to be Protestant Christians." And where to look for the remedy, is a question which cannot fail to embarrass and disturb every thoughtful man who intelligently considers it. The fact is, that, in the present course of things, there is no remedy. The ministry and churches are powerless against the incoming tide of evil and defection: whilst too many, who should be serving as watchmen, are sleeping at their stations, eating and drinking with the drunken, or expending their energies in augmenting the ills which require to be expelled. Vain is the help of man in such a state of things as this. Nor have we any promise of a favorable change whilst the present dispensation lasts. On the contrary, inspiration assures us that "evil men and seducers shall wax worse and worse, deceiving and being deceived." 2 Tim. iii, 13. For what, then, can we hope but continued decay, judgment and ruin?
We tremble, therefore, for our country, and are filled with sorrow in the convictions which force themselves upon us and cry for utterance. It is no joy to us to contemplate the end to which this land, in which our fathers lived and died, is inevitably drifting. But we are persuaded, and this we would have all our people ponder well, that it is not in the nature of our government, nor in accordance with the established movements of God's administrations among men, nor agreeable to the true philosophy of Providence, nor conformable to the plainly revealed nature and course of the present pregnant times, for our country to have the outcome from the disturbances, depressions, and moral defections that have seized upon it, which our leaders and misguided divines so fondly predict. God help us! We can hear no other testimony.
Still, we are not comfortless. We have hopes and consolations far higher than any which seem to lie in the path of mere human progress and development. They are not built upon our country, the excellence of its Constitution, the integrity of its Union, the strength of its resources, the piety of its people, the reform of its administrations, or upon anything that can come out of it. "The governments and kingdoms of this world are but the organized dominion of human apostasy from God;" and nothing fit to be reposed in is to be expected from them. God will overrule them, and so shape their course as not to be without important effects in filling out the great plans of his providence and the ultimate glories of his elect; but they that put their trust in them shall be utterly confounded. Our fondest anticipations all connect with a course of things in the affairs of this world, the very idea of which many would refuse to dwell on, even, though compelled to admit its truth. Our hope is in Christ Jesus, and his speedy coming to set up a kingdom which shall never be destroyed or left, but which shall break in pieces and consume all these kingdoms, and shall stand forever. Dan. ii, 44.
We, accordingly, submit a few suggestions by way of practical direction for these critical times:
1. Let it be the profound concern of every one, above all things, to secure for himself a firm foothold in the spiritual world, and an unrelaxing grasp of the immutable promises of God in Christ Jesus; for there certainly will be need of them. When all earthly hopes and stays are stricken down, as they must be, there will remain no other source of consolation; but the Lord will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is thus anchored and stayed. Heb. vi, 19, 20.
2. Let every one be assured, that all the storms and tribulations yet to come, with all their bearings and issues, are under the perfect control of Almighty God; and that, whatever intensities they may reach, or results they may bring forth, every thing considered, it will be the best. With whatever severity they shall break upon the rebellious, proud, and faithless, those who so watch and pray as to be accounted worthy "to stand before the Son of man" shall not only be saved from their fury, but find in them that very hand which is to crown them forever. It is the gracious Father, after all, who is at the helm of all things, and steering right for a glorious consummation, whatever sense of ill or suffering may have to be passed. The wicked, and the enemies of Christ and his reign, must be brought low; and every plant which the Lord has not planted must be rooted up; but, with all the wrecks and desolations which yet may strew the shores of time, the ship of God's salvation cannot founder. He will bring it to its destined shores amid shoutings of joy, with all its precious freight safe forever. 2 Tim. i, 12.
3. Let every one be fully awake to the stirring fact, that the coming of the Lord Jesus is now near at hand, watch, and work, and pray continually with reference to it, lest coming suddenly there should be unreadiness to meet him. There is not another event in the coming time concerning which so much is said in Scripture, upon which so much depends, or with reference to which we are so frequently and urgently warned and exhorted by the inspired writers. Christ himself, as well as his inspired apostles, again and again admonishes us to watch for his return, to pray for it, patiently to await it, to expect it, to look continually for it, to love it, to anticipate it with cheerful and fond desire, and to keep ourselves in constant readiness for it. Nor have we any promise of being kept from that dread hour of "trial" which shall come upon all the world, but that which connects with a posture of continual waiting and prayerful anticipation of our Saviour's speedy return. Let each, then, imitate the first Christians in looking for the Lord from heaven, and "be diligent to be found of him in peace, without spot and blameless." 2 Pet. iii, 14; Luke xxi, 34–36.
Thus, then, do thy duty, oh man, as a brave and faithful Christian, and confidently leave the whole issue of things with thy overruling Lord and God.—Sel.
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