Memoirs of William Miller - Sylvester Bliss

cry, A little more sleep, a little more slumber.
Blame not your people if they go to sleep under
your preaching. You have done the same. Bear
with me, my brother. In every letter you have
written me, you have promised to study this allimportant
subject, and in every letter you confess
your negligence. The day draws near. More than
one sixth of the time is gone since my Brother
Hendryx promised, and yet asleep! Oh! God,
forgive him! Are you waiting for all the world to
wake up before you dare get up? ‘Where has your
courage fled?’ Awake! awake! O sluggard! Defend
your own castle, or take sides with the word of
God; destroy, or build. You must not, you cannot,
you shall not be neutral.
Awake! awake! Tell Deacon Smith to help
wake you. Tell him, for me, to shake you, and not
give out shaking, until Bro. H. will put on the
whole armor of light.
“In every church where I have lectured on this
important subject, many, very many, seem to
awake, rub open their eyes, and then fall back to
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