Earlier text: THE FIRST AND SECOND COMINGS OF CHRISTEXTRACT FROM A SERMON BY DR. E. G. TAYLOR. The Scripture deals in subjects which we cannot afford to have in doubt; for doubt paralyzes even in temporal affairs. It unsettles business, and if widely prevalent, produces panic and unhinges society. How exceedingly disastrous, therefore, in soul matters! The soul cannot be fed on fancies, nor can it bear to be in everlasting doubt. These problems concerning sin and salvation, life and death eternal, need to be definitely solved. We must have solid truth. We may be willing to have some incredulity in affairs of this life, but it is dreadful to rest our eternity upon a possible chimera. Hence if the Bible came to us as only a higher philosophy, giving shrewd guesses or even the most elaborate speculations, concerning the world to come, we might readily reject it as man’s work, on an equality with other theories which have been spun from his darkened brain and heart. We need to be able to say, “I know.” Tossed by the ceaseless ebb and flow, we need to have perfect repose for the soul. There is a strong yearning of our nature which can only be supplied by a sure dogmatic faith. But these subjects on which the Bible treats, are confessedly those beyond the limits of human wisdom to reveal. None have ever seen God. None have sounded the depths of his character. None, unaided, can tell just how our sin affects him and what remedy will avail with him. None can come back from beyond death’s borders to report their reception. All questions of the future are steeped in indispensable mystery, and the profoundest minds of all ages have only been able to speculate upon them. And they disagree in every point. There is no definite standard; and one man’s guesses are as good as another’s. They know as much about such things as a fly, from an attentive survey of the rim of the cup on which he is resting, knows about the geography and composition of the earth, the theory of the tides, or about ten thousand other things utterly beyond his field of view. A blind man cannot see through the best of telescopes; but to discover by ourselves the great world of salvation, we have neither telescope nor eyes. God must give them both. How restful, therefore, to turn from the speculative darkness of the wise to the calm assurance of God’s own word; to know that the “wisdom of God is a mystery;” “the deep things of God” which the Spirit alone147 can search out, which “none of the princes of this world knew,” are revealed unto us. The heart’s hunger for certainty is at last satisfied. After searching the ages through in vain, we hear a voice ringing from the Roman prison with a power to move the world: “I KNOW whom I have believed.” Not, indeed, is this my theory which I commend to the favorable consideration of mankind, but, “I know.” This is solid footing. But this exclamation of Paul’s is but the one voice of all Scripture, the grand diapason, the majestic harmony of all its utterances from beginning to end. Far back of Paul a thousand years before Homer gathered the traditions and fancies of the heathen mind into a mythology filled with deities, who are but magnified mortals with magnified vices, Job, the tried friend of God, had said: “I know that my Redeemer liveth.” That is infinitely more than Homer or Hesiod could say, or any of the poets, or orators, or philosophers of Greece. Still farther back, in Exodus, we see Moses in direct communication with God and enduring, as seeing and knowing him who is invisible; and even his father-in-law declares, “I know that Jehovah is greater than all gods.” In Genesis we see Abel filled with a sweet faith, standing by his bloody altar and learning the great secret that a dead body must come between his sin and God. Even to Mary of Bethany, in our Lord’s time, was given more than the combined wisdom of the world for four thousand years, when she asserted the doctrine of the resurrection, saying: “I know that my brother shall rise again.” While the apostle John sounds upon this one string, “we know,” in the third chapter of his first epistle, a succession of melodies, more entrancing than ever came from Paganini’s one string, and sweeter indeed, than the songs of angels: “We know that he was manifested to take away our sins;” “We know that we are of the truth;” “We know that he abideth in us;” “We know that we have passed from death unto life;” “We know that when he shall appear, we shall be like him.” And Paul chimes in again with a magnificent strain of confidence, which has dissipated the fears of many dying saints, “We know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” Athens did not know this; Carthage did not know it; Egypt, the cradle of letters, did not know it; Assyria, Babylon, Persia, Greece, and Rome, the great powers that successively held universal empire, in their most splendid days, did not know it. All the centers of civilization were ignorant of it. Not one man in the world’s history, the profoundest and the best, could, aside from God’s word, stand up and say, “I know,” as applied to religious truth. No man, so far as history tells the story, ever did. Man’s cisterns all had in them the fatal flaw of doubt. Aside from the word, not one now knows a single truth connected with the future life. With all of man’s seekings in a period filled with the most brilliant achievements of the mind in all other departments, not an item of religious truth has been added to us since the days of Christ and the apostles. Little need, it would seem, had the Spirit, in closing Revelation, to warn us against adding to the things in this book, any more than to warn us against creating a new planetary system or a new world, save for the disposition to deceive himself in spiritual things. The autobiography of the late John Stuart Mill naturally elicits much attention. One of the most intellectual and erudite men of the age, a prodigy in his very infancy, commencing the study of Greek at three years old, and thorough in the classics before boys generally begin a Latin declension, a great thinker, and logician, and an astute philosopher, he knew many things of which we may be ignorant; but he did not know as much as a Sunday-school child of six or seven years about the sure way of salvation. He says of himself: “I am one of the few examples in this country of one who has not thrown off religious belief, but never had it. I grew up in a negative state in regard to it. I looked upon modern or upon ancient religion as nothing that concerned me.” That is, Christ and the fabled Jupiter, the scheme of redemption and the rites of paganism, were to him on a par. Not atheistic in the sense of denying the existence of God,—for he seems not to have cared enough about the matter to do that,—he was atheistic in its true sense, without God. Well, rejecting the word, what has this great intellectual light to offer in its stead? Nothing, absolutely nothing. When his wife died, to whom he was tenderly attached, and who aided him in his scholarly pursuits, he bought a cottage near her grave, and spent the greater part of each year there, and says: “Her memory was to me a religion, and her approbation was the standard by which I endeavored to regulate my life.” Can a memory give solid basis for the soul’s eternal welfare? Can a memory blot out sin, open the gates of glory, and give a needed Saviour? Shall we hear this philosopher saying of his wife after the manner in which Paul speaks of Christ: “I know in whom I have believed, and am persuaded that her memory is able to keep what I have committed to it against that day”? Alas! how empty the language in such a case. Yet this is an honest specimen of the vague trusts of even intellectual men who do not embrace by a living faith, the apostle’s Saviour. You may test them by this: none can say, “I know.” They tell what they surmise or conjecture. They say: “This is my theory,” or, “I do not agree with the Bible;” “I cannot accept your doctrine.” They begin to tell us what they do not know, although that theme is inexhaustible. But where is the man to stand forth with another sure word or almighty Saviour, and say, “Listen, O world running on to ruin, I have at last found one outside of the God-man Christ, who can blot out sin, wipe away sorrow’s tears, purify the heart, and settle conclusively every inquiry—have discovered another sun more brilliant than the Christ of Nazareth, who will illuminate your way here and to glory hereafter”? I have read the theories of unbelievers; and have heard some of them talk very boldly; I have watched with interest the reports of conventions of spiritualists and free-thinkers. They seem like dashing iconoclasts. They would shiver every cherished hope to atoms, but set up nothing in its stead. In a wild debauchery of unbelief, some of them are fond of calling the Scripture writers scoundrels, and defaming the name of Jesus. They sneer at the precious blood, they talk of the golden age in which Christianity shall be overthrown; they use swelling words about freedom from religious fables; and liberty is their watchword, with the scarcely-covered meaning of unrestrained license in morals. Surely, it is not from such we can hear the joyful “I know,” concerning the true way of life. Rationalism, from its most degraded to its purest form, centers around this one thought: “We will not have this man [Christ] to reign over us.” In its highest development it is distinguished from Christianity, not by what it teaches, but by what it denies. It would, if possible, grind our Rock to powder, and give the soul not a hair’s breadth of its own for a foothold. Now above this clamor of men, who, when we cry for bread, would give us a stone, we hear Jesus speaking “as one having authority;” and there comes to us the cry which the world has longed to hear, from the servant of Jesus, who, from a long experience of the joy of salvation, could say, “I know in whom I have believed.” And we know. This is our sufficient answer to every caviler; this is our sure word of hope to hearts asking for the light; this is our aggressive banner under which we march in Jesus’ name to conquer the ignorance of a perishing world.—The Standard. The Folly of Pride.
By G. W. A.
DR. THOS. DICK, the learned Christian philosopher, in his “Philosophy of a Future State,” has the following excellent thoughts on the folly of pride. They are worthy of more than a casual reading. Let me ask the man in whose heart pride and haughtiness predominate, if he really imagines that he can be a candidate for a glorious and immortal existence? Does he not at once perceive the inconsistency of such a thought with the dictates of reason, and the nature of future felicity? Of what has he any reason to be proud? Is he proud of his birth? of his ancestors? of his wealth? of his station? of his beauty? of his personal accomplishments? of his gallantry? of his debaucheries? of his military prowess? or of the thousand of human beings he has slain in battle? Is he proud of his skill in music, in dancing, in fencing, in fox-hunting, and in gambling? of his knowledges in languages, in literature, in arts and sciences? Or is he proud that he is subjected to the asthma, the gravel, the dropsy, and the gout, that his funeral will be attended by a train of mourners, and that a monument of marble will be erected to his memory, when his carcass is putrefying with the reptiles of the dust? Suppose he were admitted into the celestial mansions—which of all these topics would he choose for the theme of his conversation, and the ground of his boasting? Would he attempt to entertain the cherubim and the seraphim by telling them how many rude chieftains he was descended from, how many ancient families he was connected with, and how many acres of land he possessed as a patrimony in that wretched world which is soon to be wrapt in flames? Would he tell them of his expertness as a marksman, of his dexterity as a horse-racer, of his adroitness as a boxer, of his skill in maneuvering an army, of the villages he had burned, of the towns he had pillaged, or of the thousands he had butchered in storming a city? He would be overwhelmed with shouts of indignation, and instantly hissed from their abodes. Would he boast of his skill in languages and antiquities? or of his knowledge in arts and sciences? What a poor ignoramus (if I may use the expression) would he appear in the presence of Gabriel, the angel of God, who has so frequently winged his way, in a moment from Heaven to earth, and surveyed the regions of unnumbered worlds! Would a poor worm of the earth, whose view is confined within a few miles around it boast of its knowledge in the presence of beings endowed with such capacious powers, and who have ranged over so vast a portion of the universe of God? And, if he has nothing else to boast of, why is he proud? What a pitiful figure he would make among the intelligent and adoring hosts of Heaven? While such a disposition, therefore, predominates in the mind, its possessor can enjoy no substantial felicity either in this life or in the life to come. On the other hand, the man who, like his Redeemer, is “meek and lowly in heart,” has “the witness in himself” that he has obtained the approbation of his God, that he is assimilated to angelic beings in his temper and affections, that he has the principle of eternal life implanted within, and that he is in some measure qualified for joining in the exercises, and enjoying the felicity of the heavenly state. “For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is holy; I dwell in the high and holy place,—with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.” It is a temptation common to woman, to chafe under the routine of our petty cares; to believe that because we are tied down to this daily plodding of domestic duty our lives are of no high utility to ourselves or others. We are apt to look on those who have money enough to hire their work done, or who, from other circumstances, have leisure for personal improvement, or even for doing good, with a sort of envy. Their freedom begets in us discontent; we almost feel sometimes that God is partial, and in his sovereign pleasure favors some of his children more than others. But if we look carefully, dear sisters, we shall conclude that the favor, if it exists, is on our side. Did you ever think in this connection of the early life of Christ on earth? Did he not spend thirty years of that wonderful human existence in the obscurity of Nazareth, subject to earthly parents, and in the homely toil of the carpenter? Why were those years thus spent if not to teach us that hard, dull work is not beneath the dignity of the noblest soul, or inconsistent with the highest aspirations? There is purpose in the Providence which assigns us to a humble place on earth, and a toilsome lot. God means something when he pins us down to vexatious cares, and a wearisome routine. He means it not for crushing, but for uplifting. It is not neglect because we are worthless, but education, because he discerns in us the germs of usefulness. Christ's life at Nazareth had its purpose. It was a preparation, that thirty years of obscurity and labor, for the three years when he was to vindicate himself and his mission. In the language of another, “Every day at Nazareth meant strength, wisdom, patience;” for though Lord of all,—the everlasting Father—yet in his human nature, as a Son, he was to learn obedience by the things he suffered. So, mother, every day in your nursery; so, humble house-keeper, every day in your kitchen; so, weary sewing-girl, every day in the work-room, means for you, strength, wisdom, patience. We all have our Nazareth; let us endure it as Jesus did his, without a murmur, anointed with the oil of gladness above our fellows. Let every duty, however trivial or menial, be done “as to the Lord,” and we shall come out by-and-by into the full liberty of that higher calling for which he is preparing us. Do you reply, “No; there is no higher calling for me, I shall live and die probably just here. Have not thousands departed and pined as I do for more liberty of life and never reached it? for a higher usefulness, and yet it was denied them?” But consider again. Is life to end with this mortal existence? True, you may never be let loose on this side the grave. You may never be called from your cooking, your sewing, or your baby-tending, to perform any illustrious mission in this world. But do you know, can you form any idea of what God means you for in the other? He may be fitting you by just this Nazareth life for a future service more noble than you can conceive. The meek and wise and patient and strong he will employ in carrying out his designs of love and mercy in the universe, in fulfilling his sovereign behests; and the discipline to which he appoints you here, is just the preparation needed, that he may choose and use you in this heavenly mission work. Bow to it then. Take his yoke upon you. Be willing to stand contentedly in your lot, to do what God sets for you, with a patient, loving, obedient spirit. “The disciple is not above his master, nor the servant above his lord.” Our Nazareth is not what Christ’s was; and if he could endure, cannot we? Patient in hope! This is a good motto for us, sisters, when tired and disheartened, disgusted with our low, grovelling pursuits, so seemingly unworthy, yet so imperative. Patient in hope! We may look with joy to the hour of greater liberty, but in the mean time let us get all the strength, patience, and wisdom possible out of the present.—Sel. CLAMOROUS evils arrest attention and arouse resistance. A tornado or great fire which destroys property and life in comparatively small places, causes more popular sensation than the subtle malaria which by day and by night poisons the blood and prepares the graves of whole communities. If the pulpit is silent when God calls upon ministers to “cry aloud and spare not,” is it not an official partaker of other men's sins which it does not rebuke? If magistrates fail to execute judgment, and violence and corruption quietly stalk in brazen impunity before the awful form of justice, are they not even more guilty than the criminals whom they shield from outraged law? A very profane man once complimented his minister for not saying a word to him when he had blasphemed God in his presence! Was that a time and a place for such a man to be silent? If the officers of a church neglect to preserve the faith and discipline which they are set to defend, if the ordinances are profaned by ungodly professors, and if notorious wickedness is silently passed over in the cases of wealthy and prominent offenders, is the public scandal less because of the cowardice of those who dare not use the power of the keys? The applications of this truth are almost endless. In our time, nothing is more needed than a calm, outspoken, and resolute stand upon Christian principles against all that tends to weaken the power of conscience. Compromises in these fields are weaknesses. Silence is but another name for apathy. Power is with those who plant themselves firmly upon the rock of unchanging truth and eternal righteousness.—Sel. We walked to-day under the shadow of the mountains, where the sun no longer shone upon our path. But far up the valley, beyond the range of hills, the sunlight still flooded the landscape. We were reminded how often in this life we walk through vales where some sorrow, for the time, casts its shadow over us, but beyond, the eye of faith sees the light of hope shine across the way, and we have but to go forward that we may escape the shadow and chill which would fall upon us with increasing power if we were to linger in the old places where trouble found us. They who go forward find the openings where the sunshine lies. The Sabbath Cause in Great Britain.
By John Nevins Andrews
I HAVE spoken of our arrival in London, and have said something of the Sabbath cause in this city. Here are some deeply interesting memorials of the Sabbath during the past 250 years. Mill Yard church was founded not far from the time when the Pilgrims landed on Plymouth rock, A. D. 1620. In John James' time, A. D. 1661, it assembled in Bull Stake Court, which is but a short distance from its present site, Mill Yard. Names seem never to change in London, and so this narrow court still exists, bearing this very name upon its walls. Opposite to the entrance of this court in White chapel street is the spot where Mr. James' head was set on a pole. Mill Yard owes its name to the fact that a mill once stood near this site, and this ground was a part of its yard. But the stream now flows underground through the sewers, and the mill is gone. The chapel is an old brick edifice, but within it is very tasty and comfortable, the interior having been recently renewed. Connected with this chapel is the parsonage where Bro. and sister Jones keep the house of Gaius as described by Bunyan. In company with Bro. Jones I visited the spot where Mr. Trask, because of his Sabbatarian principles, was placed in the pillory, and whipped from thence to the Fleet prison, a distance of more than two miles. We walked over this route in order to judge of the time that was occupied in whipping Mr. Trask, as he walked this distance under the lashes of his brutal enemies. Then he was imprisoned in a most wretched prison to remain for life. What he suffered probably destroyed his mind, for at the end of one year he recanted. His wife for the same crime as her husband was also imprisoned, but was not placed in the pillory, nor was she whipped. She remained some fifteen years till released by death. Newgate prison in which she was confined for a time was also the place of John James' imprisonment, and from thence he was drawn to the place of execution at Tyburn, distant some three miles or more. Newgate prison still stands to remind the observer of the sufferings of many of God's noblest servants. I felt interested to visit the spot on which stood the gallows at Tyburn. It is within the present limits of London and just at the edge of St. James' Park. The gallows is gone, but the spot, where not malefactors only, but also some of the noblest servants of God have laid down their lives, is marked by a pillar and an inscription. Here they stood in a cart with a noose about their necks, and the cart was drawn from under them, so that they died simply from strangulation. I asked myself the question whether I could be thus faithful, even unto death. Francis Bampfield, who was the means of gathering a second church of Sabbath-keepers in London, was also imprisoned and cruelly treated so that he died from his sufferings. Pinnei's Hall is the place where his congregation assembled. I visited this hall which still bears this very name. His church has become extinct within the present generation. Stephen Mumford, the first who carried the Sabbath to America, was a member of Mr. Bampfield's church. In the rear of Mill Yard chapel is a cemetery in which sleep several of the pastors and a considerable number of the members of the Mill Yard church. The name of Joseph Davis is worthy of particular mention. The Mill Yard property was secured to that church by his generous liberality. He did this that the Sabbath cause might not be destroyed in London. In the persecutions suffered by the early Sabbath-keepers Mr. Davis also shared. He was cruelly imprisoned, and robbed of all his property. After his release he began business in a small way, and God being pleased to prosper him, he became quite wealthy. With this property he endowed the Mill Yard church, giving to it the chapel, the parsonage, and the cemetery, and making provision for an annual income to meet current expenses. The Sabbath cause is very low in Great Britain, and has seemed threatened with extinction. There are, however, adequate causes for this sad change. The Sabbath has suffered from the errors of its friends. After the severe persecution which they suffered, and after they had been stripped of their worldly goods, there came a time of comparative quiet. They began to prosper in acquiring wealth. With wealth came not consecration to God, but covetousness and a desire to obtain the favor of the great. They acquired wealth, and instead of using it for God, they hoarded it up to curse their children. And the children coming to wealth renounced the Sabbath and plunged into the world. The spirit of consecration was lost by both ministers and people to a fearful extent. To gain the favor of first-day churches the Sabbath was made of minor consequence. And so the Spirit of God was grieved, worldliness entered, and apostasy followed in very many cases. There were, however, many honorable exceptions, and the Sabbath-keepers in America owe a debt of gratitude to God in behalf of the Sabbath cause in Great Britain for the light of truth respecting the Sabbath. May they not be slow to acknowledge this obligation. Being very desirous to ascertain the strength of the Sabbath cause in Great Britain and to form an acquaintance with the observers of the Sabbath, and with those known to be friendly thereto, I arranged with Bro. Jones that an appointment should be sent to the little Notton church near Tewkesbury in Gloucestershire, and also that the few Sabbath-keepers in Scotland and the north of Ireland should be invited to meet us in Glasgow, Monday, Oct. 5. Bro. Jones and myself went to Tewkesbury and were hospitably entertained by the pastor of the Notton church, who is a first-day Baptist preacher. Tuesday forenoon he accompanied us to the hamlet of Notton, where we met at their own chapel three of the five members composing their church, two being unavoidably absent. Several generations since an ancestor of one of the present members of this church built this chapel as a part of the building which he erected for his own residence. This he secured to the Sabbath-keeping church, and he also walled off a cemetery for the use of the church. In addition to this, he secured to the church an annual income of about $25.00, to be paid from the farm which he transmitted to his descendants. But though the chapel and the burying ground remain to the church, the payment of the money has in some way been set aside by an apostate descendant. We had a most interesting season in rehearsing the progress of the Sabbath cause in America, and in stating some of the reasons for our observance of the fourth commandment. I will make some further mention of Notton church hereafter. From Tewkesbury, we took a night train for Glasgow in a third-class compartment which contains simply two wooden seats facing each other, and extending across the car, the entrance being by doors in either side of the car. The notice of our meeting was sent to all the known friends of the Sabbath in Ireland and Scotland. It brought together six persons besides ourselves. Those not able to come to this little gathering sent letters which were read at the meeting. One Sabbath-keeper came from the north of Scotland, and one was present who was a native of Ireland, and whose father has begun to observe the Sabbath in Belfast, Ireland. The meeting was organized and interesting remarks were made by the chairman, and then followed a statement by Bro. Jones and myself respecting the work of Sabbath reform, especially in America, and what we hoped to be able to do in Great Britain. Those present stated their individual experiences. The occasion was one of great interest. A regular Sabbath meeting was appointed to be kept up by these friends. Our meeting was cheering, for we hope to see a good work follow. The brother from the north of Scotland was baptized, and was much blessed. Oct. 9, we returned to London. On the Sabbath, I spoke twice to the Mill Yard church. Monday evening, we took the cars for New Haven. Here, after five hours' delay, we took a steamer for Dieppe, which we reached about ten next morning. After a brief detention by the custom-house officers we took the train for Paris, and reached this city at 3 o'clock. To-morrow if the Lord will we shall again set forth on our way, and the day following we hope to be in Switzerland. In taking leave of England for the present I wish to acknowledge the great kindness of Eld. Jones and wife during our stay in London. Hitherto the Lord has helped us. Hotel de Belgique, Paris, Oct. 14, 1874. The Seventh-Day Adventists.
By Uriah Smith
A BRIEF SKETCH OF THEIR ORIGIN, PROGRESS, AND PRINCIPLES.
Our field of inquiry leads us back only to the great Advent movement of 1840–1844. Respecting that movement it is presumed that the public are more or less informed. They may not be so well aware of the causes which have led since that time to the rise of a class of people calling themselves Seventh-day Adventists. Adventists looked for the end of the world in 1844, because of the prophecy in Dan. 8:14, which says that at the end of the prophetic period of 2300 days the sanctuary should be cleansed. They computed that time to end in that year. They held that the earth was the sanctuary then to be cleansed, that its cleansing was to be accomplished with fire which would accompany the manifestation of the Lord from heaven. Hence they supposed the Lord would then come. There were, of course, many other facts and arguments in support of the view that the second coming of Christ was near, but what we have stated was the principal argument for fixing upon that particular time for the occurrence of the event. The time passed, and the coming of Christ did not take place as was expected. It then became apparent that a mistake had been made in one or both of the following points: either the period of 2300 days did not end at that time, or the cleansing of the sanctuary was not to be the burning of the earth by fire at the second coming of Christ. While there was a possibility of their being mistaken on both these points, a mistake on either one would be sufficient to account for the fact that the Lord did not then appear. A movement which had enlisted the whole interest of thousands upon thousands, would not of course be abandoned without reflection. The ground was looked over and two methods adopted for explaining the disappointment. One class jumped to the conclusion at once that they were wrong on time, and the prophetic periods had not ended. Another class, on a careful survey of the whole field, impressed with the strength and harmony of the argument on chronology, saw no ground to change their views upon that point, but became satisfied that the mistake lay in the subject of the sanctuary and its cleansing. This class are the ones now known as Seventh-day Adventists. This brings us to note Between Seventh-day Adventists and First-day, or No-day Adventists, as respects chronology. The latter, believing that the prophetic periods were given to make known the time of Christ's coming, and that they have not yet ended, are held to one of two conclusions: either that all that is said in the Bible about these periods is so much of revelation unrevealed, or else that the time of Christ's coming is to be known. The first conclusion, as consistent believers in the Bible, they cannot adopt, and hence their continual efforts to re-adjust the prophetic periods and fix upon the time for Christ to come. From this has arisen in these later years all the fantastic time-setting which has very properly disgusted the world, and worse than this, has brought reproach on prophetical study. On the other hand SEVENTH-DAY ADVENTISTS SET NO TIME.
They do not believe that any prophetic period given in the Bible reaches to the coming of Christ, or was designed to mark the day or year of that event. As already mentioned, they believe the chronological argument of the great Advent movement of 1844, was all right, locating the termination of the longest prophetic period, the 2300 days, in the autumn of that year. The prophecy said that then the sanctuary should be cleansed. That sanctuary they found to be, not the earth, which is never so-called, but the sanctuary of which Paul so fully and definitely treats in his epistle to the Hebrews, “the sanctuary” and “true tabernacle” in Heaven, “which the Lord pitched and not man,” of which Christ, our great High Priest, is minister while “on the throne of the Majesty in the Heavens.” Heb. 8:1, 2. The tabernacle erected by Moses in the wilderness of Sinai about 1500 years before Christ, Ex. 25 and onward, which was the sanctuary of the first covenant, Heb. 9:1, from that time till the first advent, was a type, figure, or pattern of this heavenly sanctuary of the new covenant, Heb. 9:9, 23, 24. The ministration of the sanctuary consisted of two grand divisions which were accomplished every year: the daily ministration, and a brief service in the most holy place, or second apartment, of the sanctuary, which completed the yearly round of service. This latter work was called the cleansing of the sanctuary, and was performed by the priest. So likewise the cleansing of the heavenly sanctuary, Heb. 9:23, must be performed by Christ while yet a priest, before he takes his kingdom and appears in his glory. The view we take of the prophecy, consequently, is that the termination of the 2300 days in 1844, brought us to the commencement of this last portion of Christ's work as priest in the true tabernacle above, called the cleansing of the sanctuary, not a cleansing from physical impurities, but from the presence of our sins, imparted to it through the blood of Christ there ministered in our behalf. This explains at once the mistake in 1844, and shows our present position. We are now in the time of the cleansing of the sanctuary; a period of brief but indefinite duration. While, therefore, we do not throw away the prophetic periods, but believe they are to be understood, we believe also that they have been correctly interpreted, and have all terminated; so that we now have no data from which to reason respecting a definite time for the Lord to come. Two causes have operated to introduce the observance of the seventh-day Sabbath among Adventists, and thus to develop that class known as Seventh-day Adventists. First, a Seventh-day Baptist sister, Mrs. Rachel D. Preston, from the State of New York, moved to Washington, N. H., where there was a church of Adventists. From them she received the doctrine of the soon-coming of Christ, and in return instructed them in reference to the claims of the fourth commandment of the decalogue. This was in 1844. Nearly that whole church immediately commenced the observance of the seventh day, and thus have the honor of being the first Seventh-day Adventist church in America. The ravages of death, and removals from the place, have considerably diminished their numbers; but the church there still lives to bear witness to the truth thus introduced among them. The Sabbath question began immediately to be agitated among Adventists, and within a few months, many from their ranks commenced its observance. Among the earliest permanent converts to this doctrine, three deserve especial mention: 1. Eld. Joseph Bates, who with great zeal, devotion, and self-sacrifice, gave himself to its advocacy, and brought many to its observance. He fell asleep March 19, 1872, in the 80th year of his age. 2. Eld. James White, the founder and manager, to the present time, of the S. D. Adventist publishing work, and now president of their five leading organizations; namely, The General Conference, The Publishing Association, The Health Reform Institute, The General Tract and Missionary Society, and the Educational Society. 3. Eld. J. N. Andrews, author of the History of the Sabbath, the Sanctuary, the Three Messages, and other important works, and now absent as a missionary to Switzerland in Europe. 2. Another consideration which has tended to strengthen them in the observance of the seventh-day Sabbath is the subject of the sanctuary, to which we have already alluded. It was seen at once that the central object in the sanctuary, in whichever dispensation we view it, is the ark of God, which was enshrined in the most holy place. This ark was prepared expressly as a receptacle for the tables of stone on which were written the great moral precepts of God's government, the ten commandments. Thus attention was called to the law of God. It was also seen that if the law in the ark of the heavenly sanctuary, Rev. 11:19, is the great original, and that deposited in the typical sanctuary was only a copy or transcript, that law must read the same now as it read then, and the idea of any change is placed beyond the range of possibilities; that heaven and earth, as Christ in his first sermon declared, would sooner pass than one jot or tittle pass149 from the law; and that the fourth commandment requires of the second house of Israel, what it required of the first, and has required from Eden down, the observance of the seventh day of the week, as the grand and glorious memorial of our creation at the hands of God. Hypocrisy in Addresses to God
In addresses from man to man, hypocrisy is detestable; how much more in addresses from man to God.