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Memoirs of William Miller - Sylvester Bliss

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hearts in the house <strong>of</strong> God, where our faith was<br />

more and more established by the word <strong>of</strong> His<br />

grace; where our prayers were mingled at the same<br />

altar, and arose together, as incense, to the mercyseat<br />

<strong>of</strong> our Redeemer, for a preparation to meet the<br />

coming glories, which we then expected shortly to<br />

realize; where our hearts burned with love and<br />

gratitude to God for the good news <strong>of</strong> the near<br />

approach <strong>of</strong> the King <strong>of</strong> kings; where our songs <strong>of</strong><br />

praise and hallelujahs to the Lamb cheered our<br />

drooping spirits, and prepared us more vigorously<br />

to pursue our weary pilgrimage to the land <strong>of</strong><br />

promise, which, from evidence to us conclusive,<br />

and which I am not ashamed <strong>of</strong>, we soon expect to<br />

reach!<br />

“Then, heart beat in unison with heart, soul<br />

mingled with soul, and love, holy, heavenly,<br />

divine, united us in that oneness <strong>of</strong> gospel truth,<br />

and prejudice and party were dissipated from our<br />

thoughts like midnight darkness, or the morning<br />

mists by the rising sun. This was a time <strong>of</strong> love, a<br />

time <strong>of</strong> faith, working by love and purifying the<br />

heart. It was this hope, ‘the blessed hope,’ that<br />

772

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