Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1892-09-10

Cnrists cause, suffer from the cclde Thew
walked Greenlant's icy mountains. Do wa
suffer from the heat? They sweltered in
the tropics. Do we get fatigued? They
tainted, with none to care for them but can
pibals. Are we persecuteds They were
mathematical. And as they look from their
gallery and see us falter in the presence of
the lions, | seem to hear Isaac Watts address,
ing US 10 his old hymn. only little changed
Must YOU be carried to the skies
On howery beds Of ease,
While others fought to win the priz3
Or sailed through bloody seas,
Toplady Scouts in his old hymn:
Your hsrps. ye trembling saints,
Down from tn willows take;
Loud to the praise of love divine,
BID every string awake.
While Charles Wesley, the Hatho iiss.
breaks forth IN his favcrite words, little
variel:
A charge to kee3 yol have,
A God to giorifg:
never dying Soal to save,
And ht il for the sky
look again and seq ths gallery OF our
departed. Many Of those in the othar
galleries we have heard OF: but these we
knew. Oh. how familiar taair facasl Tney
sat at our tables, an1 we walked to the
houie of God in company. Have they for
gotten US? Those fathers ami mothers
started us on the road OF life. Ars they
Careless a. 10 Wnat becomes OF u.s. AMI
those chill iren-io they look on with stolid
indiff erence as to whether we win or lose
this battle for eteraityf Nay; l ssa that
ca1id running its hand over your brow and
saying, Father, do not fret" Mother,
do not worry"
They remember the day they left US They
remember tbs agony of the last farewell.
Though years in heaven they know cur
faces. Tney remember our sorrows They
speak our names They watch this fight for
heaven. Nay, see them rise up and lean
over aud wave before us their recognition
and encouragement. That gallery is not
full. They are keeping places for US. After
we have slain the hon they EXPECT the King
to call US, saying; Come up higher" Be-
tween the hot struggles in the arena wipe
the sweat from my brow aud stand on tip
toe, reaching up my right hand to clasp
thsirs i'll rapturous handshaking, while their
voices come ringing down FROM the gallery,
crsing: "3e thou faith 'ul unto death. and
you snail have erownw
But here 1 pause, overwhelmed with the
majesty aai JOY OF the scene. Gallery OF
the King Gallery of angelsi Gallery of
prophets and apostles! Gallery OF martyrs
Gallery OF salntsl Gallery OF friends and
kindred! On, majestic circles of light and
love! Throngsl Throngs! Throngsl How
shall we stand the gazs of the universe.
Myriads OF eyes beaming on us Myria1s of
hearts beating in sympathy for u.s. How
shall we ever dare to sin aganl How shall
ne ever become discourage again How
shall we ever feel lonely again.
With God for as, and angels for us, AMI
prophets and apostles for Us, and the great
sou of the ages fer us, aud our glorifiei
kindred for us-shalt we give up the tight
and die? MOI Sor OF God, who diist die to
save us. No! ye angels, whose wings are
spread forth to shelter us. No We prophets
and apostles. whose warnings startle us. Mo-
We loved ones, whose arms are outStretched
to receive us. No We will never surreadarl
Sure must fght il would reigu-
Be faithful to my Lore
AMI bear the Cross, endure the pain,
Supported by Thy Word.
Thy saints in all this glorious war
Shall conquer. thou IN they die
They see the triumph from afar
AMI seiza il WIKI THAR eve
When that illustrious day shall rise,
And all Thine armies shine
In rooes of victory through the skies.
The glory shall be Time.
My hsarer, shall we die ia the arena or
rise to join our friends in the gallery?
Through Christ we may come off more
than conquerors. A soldier dying in the
hospital 70 e UP in bed the last moment and
cried, 'Here Herew His attendants put
him back on his pillow and asked him why
he shouted Here" ''oh, | heard the roll
call of heaven and was only answering to
my name" ! wonder whether after this
battle of life is over, our name will be called
in the muster role OF the pardonsd AMI glor-
fed, and with the joy of heaven breaking
upon our souls. we cry "derel Herer'