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And if the doctrine of the Sex-millennial duration of the world be a truth, and the Apocalyptic Millennium be the seventh chiliad, how near does it bring the golden-the blissful era! Let us cry, in the words of the pious Brainard, "The glorious times of the church are coming-are near at hand. O that his kingdom might come in the world!" and with Heber:

"Chide the tardy seals that yet detain

Thy Lion, Judah, from his destined reign."

"Every day," wrote Alanson Covell, "proclaims the near approach of that blessed era,' "* and Mr. Brooks affirms that "in the opinion of all intelligent men, some awful and portentous crisis is at hand." In view of this solemn fact let us adopt the language of the pious Fletcher, and pray, "O that the thought, the glorious hope of Millennial blessedness may animate me to perfect holiness in the fear of God, that I may be accounted worthy to escape the terrible judgments which will make way for that happy state of things; and that I may have part in the first resurrection, if I am numbered among the dead before that happy period begins."

We have now coursed through about twenty centuries, and have found existing in the church three Millennial theories, viz: the Anti-millennarian, as held by Augustine, Andreas, Bush and others; the theory of a Post-millennial advent of Christ, as taught by Whitby and others, and its opposite, Pre-millennialism, and the personal reign, as believed by the early church, the two former of which we reject and oppose, the last mentioned we heartily receive and promulgate. What the real character of the Millennial age will be remains

to be seen. It is "night" now, and we all see through a glass darkly," but we shall see better and clearer when "the shadows flee away," and "the day dawns," and the "Sun"

* Memoirs, p. 45.

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is up. But we sympathize with the Church of God in all her endeavors to interpret the Scriptures in relation to the nature of that hastening, glorious era. THE PRIEST'S LIPS

SHOULD KEEP KNOWLEDGE. Meanwhile, to all those who are on the walls of Zion we say, in the earnest words of Hugh McNeil:

"My ministering brethren, watch, preach the coming of Jesus-I charge you, in the name of our common Master, preach the coming of Jesus-solemnly and affectionately in the name of God, I charge you, preach the coming of Jesus. 'Watch ye, therefore, (for ye know not when the master of the house cometh, at even, or at midnight, or at cock-crowing, or in the morning,) lest coming suddenly, he find the porter sleeping. Take care what I say unto you, I say unto all-watch.'

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HE Lord cometh! The heart of many an one thrills at


this call. He thinks of the approaching and complete establishment of the Lord's kingdom upon earth; and he sighs, Ah, didst thou but come!" Yes, our heart also joins in this longing of eighteen hundred years; for even so long has it been in the church, not like a flood water, which is gradually lost in the sand beneath, but like a stream, which, the nearer it draws to its destination, rolls onward with greater power. How many a prophetic omen has there been, that the grand moment of jubilee is not far distant. We already perceive signs of the publication of the gospel in all the world; that of the shaken foundations of Mohammedanism; that of the re-emergement of the Beast from the abyss; that of the decline from Christ and his word, extending through the world; and that of the powerful errors of an anti-christian spirit, acquiring domination over the culti vation of genius; of the idolization of men, and of many more similar signs.


"Never did the church witness such a constellation of signs of the near coming of Christ as now. The branches of the fig-trees are full of sap; and the summer is at hand.' Assuredly I am not ignorant that a portion of the Church has become gradually weary of the long tarrying, and has





fallen into doubt.

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You also shake your head, and are of opinion, that we have long talked of the last time.' Well, use this language, and increase the number of the existing signs by this new one. Add that of the foolish virgins, who shortly before the midnight hour maintained the Lord would not come for a long time.' They ate, they drank, they wooed and were wooed, and inscribed over the festivity-decorated gate of their dwelling, 'Peace! Peace! There is no danger!' But then, however, the depths suddenly burst open, and the floods rushed forth at the command of the eternal wrath. Only Noah and those with him watched, and were preserved; upon every one else destruction came with the swiftness of a whirlwind. The Lord cometh! O, were he already here! How do we long for his revelation in these dark times!"— KRUMMACHER.


When from scattered lands afar,
Spreads the voice of rumored war,
Nations in tumultuous pride,
Heave like ocean's roaring tide,
When the solar splendors fail,
When the crescent waxeth pale,
And the powers that starlike reign,
Sink dishonored to the plain,
World! do thou the signal dread,
We exalt the drooping head;
We uplift the expectant eye,
Our redemption draweth nigh.
When the fig-tree shoots appear,
Men behold their Summer near;
When the hearts of rebels fail,
We the coming Conqueror hail.
Bridegroom of the weeping spouse,
Listen to her longing vows;

Matt. 24: 6, 8

Luke 21: 25,
Haggai 2: 7.

Heb. 12: 26, 29.

Matt. 24: 29. Rev. 16: 12. Matt. 24: 39. Joel 11: 10, 31. Luke 21 26, 36. Luke 21: 37, 38. Eph. 1: 14. Rom. 8: 19, 23. Matt. 24: 22, 23. Luke 21: 29, 31

Isa 59: 18, 19.
Rev. 19: 11, 16

Rev. 19: 7, 9.
Rev. 6: 10.

Listen to her widowed moan,

Listen to Creation's groan.
Bid, O bid Thy trumpet sound,
Gather thine elect around,
Gird with saints Thy flaming car,
Summon them from climes afar,
Call them from life's cheerless gloom,
Call them from the marble tomb,
From the grass-grown village grave,
From the deep dissolving wave,
From the whirlwind and the flame,
Mighty Head, Thy members claim.
Where are they whose proud disdain,
Scorned to brook Messiah's reign?
Lo, in waves of sulphurous fire,
Now they taste His tardy ire;
Fettered till the appointed day,
When the world shall pass away.
Quelled are all thy foes, O Lord,
Sheathe again the dreadful sword.
Where the Cross of anguish stood,
Where thy life distilled in blood,
Where they mocked Thy dying groan,
King of Nations, plant Thy throne.
Send thy law from Zion forth,
Speeding o'er the willing earth;
Earth, whose Sabbath glories rise,
Crowned with more than Paradise;
Sacred be the impending veil!
Mortal sense and thought must fail,
Yet the awful hour is nigh,

We shall see Thee, eye to eyc.
Be our souls in peace possessed,
While we seek our promised rest,
And from every heart and home,
Breathe the prayer, "O Jesus, come!"
Haste to set the captive free,
All Creation groans for Thee.


Luke 18: 3, 7, 8
Rom. 8: 22, 23
1 Thess. 4: 16
Matt. 24: 31
Jude 14

Isa. 24: 13-15
Matt. 24: 40, 41.

Rev. 20: 4-6. Luke 14: 14. Psalm 49: 14, 15. 1 Thess. 4: 17.

Col. 1: 15. Luke 19: 12, 27. Matt. 13 41, 42. Luke 17: 27, 30. Rev. 19: 20, 21. Rev. 18: 3, 5, 9.

2 Peter 2: 9.
Rev. 19: 15, 21.
Psalm 110: 5, 7.
Isa. 53: 3, 5, 12.

Mark 15, 27.
Mark 15, 29.
Isa. 24; 23.

Zach. 8: 3.
Dan. 2: 35, 44
Isa. 40: 1, 9.
Ps. 67: 6.
1 Cor. 13: 12.

1 John 3: 2. Luke 21: 31. Rev. 1: 7. 2 Thess. 3: 5. Heb. 4: 9. 2 Tim. 4; 8. Rev. 22: 20

Isa. 49: 9 Rom. 8: 19


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