The year 1866 has passed away. Its events have been faithfully enrolled in the Unseen, to be reproduced when “God requireth that which is past.” Never had we studied the progressive steps of any year with more quiet or more singular interest. We measured its months. We reckoned its weeks. We considered its days. And when the final knell sounded its departure, we forcibly felt how uncertain are the presages of men. We have thus seen, within our own horizon, two great predictions fail. In the first, we had no confidence whatever. In the second, we can not say we had faith; but, still, with the consciousness that good and great men had predicted a momentous crisis in the affairs of the world, we endeavored by quiet induction to form a fair conclusion. There seemed to be confident expectation on the part of the faithful and intelligent men of the church. The events of the last eighteen years seemed to converge with directness toward a decided point. The violent convulsions of our own continent; the sudden and complete overthrow of the great papal power of Continental Europe; the sad extremity of his “Holiness the Pope;” the late marshaling of the “Great Powers,” all seemed to warrant a conclusion that a great crisis was at hand. Indeed, it may be so now. Judging by the record of inspiration, sudden and terrible convulsions will be the sign and signal of the change from the present order of things. That there is an overruling and directing Providence in the affairs of men, so true historian questions. There is certainly a grand objective idea in life. There is surely a reliable logic in the great progressive events of history. There must be an instructive experience in the annals of earth. Does history continually seem to repeat itself in vain? Must man forever mourn over the failures of man? Notwith­standing the seeming contradictions and profitless experience of the world, there is a positive process going on—a true spiritual progress toward a higher life. It is in the office and mission of the church. Indeed the final cause of this present life is the glory of God in the triumph of the church over the prince of this world. Thus an issue between the church and the world, a conflict between truth and error, good and evil, is patent in the patient explorer, amid the ruins and the rubbish with which the pages of profane history are so heavily laden. It is a conceded point in sacred history. Indeed, it is the cardinal idea of revelation, of redemption.

Christ in history is the practical manifes­tation of God’s purpose toward man. The great instrument and agent in God’s providence is [110] silently, but most forcibly, at work. Nations and individuals fulfill their mission in subordination to this great, sovereign end. His “ways are not as our ways.” “Surely the wrath of man shall praise thee: the remainder of wrath shalt thou restrain.” Though “clouds and darkness are round about him, righteousness and judgment are the habitation of his throne.” The life of man is short, and the march of God is slow, although, “a thousand years in his sight are but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in the night.” The rationale of history is the providence of God. Let us briefly consider this proposition. We have stood amid the deserted fanes of Egypt, Carthage, Greece, Rome, Palmyra, and beheld in the very ruins themselves, most eloquent monuments of the perishable power, grandeur, and glory of earthly empires, and of the certainty of God’s judgments on all that is false. Great nations had existed there. Proud hearts had beat there with a hope as high, a purpose as confident, and aspirations as fervent as those of the mighty men of this day at London, Paris, Berlin, St. Petersburg, and Washington. What those were, these are; and what those are, these will be. It is written: “For the nation and kingdom that will not serve thee shall utterly perish; yea, those nations shall be utterly wasted.” Indeed, history seemingly moves in a circle when bounds his sphere by the sensuous. Whenever he becomes the slave of sense, he never advances into the realm of the positive, the permanent, and the spiritual. The purpose of sensuous man is the same now as in the days of Nimrod or Cyrus, Alexander or Caesar, and his fate will be the same. National lives will perish whenever they are conditioned and limited by the sensuous. The spiritual alone is imperishable. Daniel, by inspiration, established this truth nearly twenty-five centuries ago, which has been progressively confirmed by history. And here we must express our wonder that that wonderful book is so little studied. The Book of Daniel should be a manual for kings and presidents. It is the master-key to all national histories, and in the everlasting dominion it is an epitome of all history. It determines the fate of the sensuous, and develops the destiny of the spiritual. It declares the subjection of all earthly kingdoms to the saints of the Most High. That day, we think, is fast approaching. Philosophy has long since exhausted its resources. “The world by wisdom knew not God.” Earthly governments are fast exhausting their power. The prediction of Daniel will as certainly be verified, as has been the declaration of Paul. The Lord is overruling all, even the disputes of sectarianism, in favor of the church. Let us take courage, my beloved brethren, in the sublime confidence that knows no fear, in the blessed assurance that Christianity is God in history, and that its great mission, its sovereign purpose, will be fully accomplished. May we truly realize the solemn responsibilities that devolve upon us as members of the body of [111] Christ—of the everlasting kingdom! Let us be more prayerful, more earnest, and more devoted this year than we have ever been! Let us exhibit the spirit of peace and love in all our ways, in all our works! May the Lord help us to do his holy will! “Take ye heed, watch and pray; for ye know not when the time is.” “Watch!”

Return to Lard’s Quarterly index.

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws