Page:Lives of the apostles of Jesus Christ (1836).djvu/360

 fate befalls each of the three pairs. The falls under a temporary ruin, trodden under foot by the Gentiles, forty-two mystic months; and the star-crowned daughter of Zion wanders desolate in the wilderness of the world, for twelve hundred and sixty days, till the hand of her God shall restore her to grace and glory. The of the seven hills, falls under a doom of far darker, and of irrevocable desolation,—like the dashing roar of the sinking rock thrown into the sea, she is thrown down, and shall be found no more at all. And such too, is the doom of the fierce scarlet rider of the beast,—"Rejoice over her, O heaven! and ye holy apostles and prophets! for God has avenged you on her." But beyond all this awful ruin appears a vision of contrasting, splendid beauty.

"The first two acts already past, The third shall close the drama with the day;— Time's noblest offspring is the last."

The shouts of vindictive triumph over the dreadful downfall of the bloody city, now soften and sweeten into the songs of joy and praise, while the, the church of God and Christ, comes down from the heavens in a solemn, glorious mass of living splendor, to bless the earth with its holy presence. In this last great scene, also, there is a female, the third of the mystic series; not like her of the twelve stars, now wandering like a widow disconsolate, in the wilderness;—not like her of the jeweled, scarlet and purple robes, cast down from her lofty seat, like an abandoned harlot, now desolate in ashes, from which her smoke rises up forever and ever;—but it is one, all holy, happy, pure, coming down stainless from the throne of God,—a bride, crowned with the glory of God, adorned for her husband,—the One slain from the foundation of the world. He through the opening heavens, too, has come forth before her, the Word of God, the Faithful and the True,—known by his bloody vesture, stained, not in the gore of slaughtered victims, but in the pure blood poured forth by himself, for the world, from its foundation. Yet now he rode forth on his white horse, as a warrior-king, dealing judgment upon the world with the sword of wrath,—with the sceptre of iron. Behind him rode the armies of heaven,—the hallowed hosts of the chosen of God,—like their leader, on white horses, but not like him, in crimson vesture; their garments are white and clean; by a miracle of purification, they are washed and made white in blood. This mighty leader, with these bright armies, now returns