The Maryville times. (Maryville, Tenn.) 1884-1944, 1892-09-21
Henry Woes, who exclaimed a. he died,

off for Christi" The great throng OF
the martyrs! They had hot lead poured
down their threats; horses were fas-
tened to their hands, and other horses
to their feet, and thus they were
pulled apart; they had their tongues
pulled out by red,hot pincers; they were
sewed up in the skins of animals, and
then thrown to the dogs; they were
daubed with conbustibles and set on
fire! If all the martyrs stakes that have
been kindled could be set at proper dis
tances they would make the midnight
all the world over bright as monday!
And now they sit yonder in the mar
tyrs' gallery. For them the fires of per-
secution have gone out. The swords are
sheathed and the mob hushed. Now
they watch us with an all-observing
sympathy. They know all the pain, all
the hardship, all the anguish, all the
injustice, all the privation. They can
not keep still. They cry: Courage!
| The fire will not consume. The floods
cannot drown. The lions cannot devour
| Courage! down there in the arena"
What, are they all looking? This
night we answer back the sllutation
they give, and cry, Hail! sons and
daughters of the fire.
look again, and see another gallery,
that OF eminent Christians. What strikes
me strangely is the mixing in COM
partnership of those who on earth could
not agree. There is Albert Barnes,
and around him the Presbytery who
tried him for heterodoXy, Yonder is
Lyman Beecher, and the church court
that denounced him! Stranger than all
there is John Calvin and James Armin-
Jus. Who would have thought that
they would sit so lovingly together?
There is George Whitefeld and the
ministers who would not let him come
into their pulpits because they thought
him fanatic. There are the street
singers, Toplady, Montgomery, Charles
Wesley, Isaac Watts and Mrs. Sig
Quincy. If Heaven had had no music
before they went up they would have
started the singing. And there, the
band of missionaries; David Abeel,
talking of China redeemed; and John
Scudder, of India, saved; and David
Brainerd, of the aborigines, evan
gelized; and Mrs. Adoniram Judson,
whose prayers for Burmah took Heaven
by violence! All these Christians are
looking into the arena. Our struggle is
nothing to theirs. Do we, in Christ S
cause, suffer from the cold? They
walked Greenland's icy mountains. Do
we suffer from the heat? They swell
tered in the tropics. Do we get IA
tigued? They tainted, with none to
care for them but cannibals. Are we
prosecuted? 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 adj
dressing us in his old hymn, only little
changed:
Must you be carried to the skies
On ffowery beds of ease,
While others fought TO win the prize
, Or sailed through bloody seas?
, Toplady shouts in his old hymn:
/, Your harps, We trembling saints,
Down from the willows take;
Loud TO the praise OF love d1V1ne,
Bid every string awake
While Charles Wesley, the Methodist
breaks forth in his favorite words, lit
tie varied:
. charge to keep you have
A God to glorify
, never.dying soul to save,
And At IL for the sky
/ look again, and see the gallery O
our departed. Many of those in thu
C other galleries we have heard of; bu
C these we knew Oh! how familiar thei
p faces! They sat at our tables, and W.
r walked to the house of God in company
h Have they forgotten us? Those father
and mothers started us on the road o
- life. Are they careless as to what be
= comes of us? And those children; d.
u they look on with stolid indifference a
to whether we win or lose this battl
h for eternity? Nay; | see that child run
&c ming its hand over your brow ant
If saving. Father. do not fret" "Mother
=. do not worry" They remember the da
4 they left us. They remember the agon
y of the last farewell. Though years il
u heaven, they know our fates. The
remember our sorrows. They spea
our names. They watch this fight TO
If heaven Nay; see them rise up On
e lean over, and wave before us thei
\. recognition and encouragement. Tha
:, gallery is not full They are lteepin
y places for us. After we have slain tn
y lion they expect the King to call III
II saving, Come up higher" Betwee
d the hot struggles in the arena | wip
"a the sweat from my brow and stand o
u tiptoe, reaching up my right hand t
,e clasp theirs in rapturous Misunderstanding
r while their voices come ringing dow
% from the gallery, crying, "Be thou faitl
- full unto death, and you shall have
CROWN
re But here pause, overwhelmed wit
is the majesty and the joy of the scen'
ii Gallery of the King Gallery of angel
III Gallery of prophets and apostles! Ga
lery of martyrs. Gallery OF saint
n. Gallery of friends and kindred. {
=. majestic circles of light and low
~ Throngs! Throngs! Throngs! Ho'
ie shall we stand the gaze of the universe
J! Myriads of eyes beaming on u
t. Myriads of hearts beating
in sympathy for us. How shall W
&c, ever dare to sin again? Ho'
ell shall we ever become discourage
90 again? How shall we ever feel lone
~ again? With God for us, and angels IL
~ us, and prophets and apostles for u
VI and the great souls of the ages for
ar and our glorifed kindred for us--sha
!" we give up the fight and die? No! Sc
ur of God. who didst die to save us. n
of We angels, whose wings are spread fort
II to shelter us. No. We prophets and ape
~ ties, whose warnings startle us. No!
loved ones, whose arms are outstretch'
to receive us. No. we will never su
VI render
yh Sure must fight II would reign
OF BE faithful to my Lord
= And bear the cross, endure the pain,
SO Supported by thy Word
ng Thy saints in al this glorious war
he Shall conquer. though they de-
40 iii ,,,r,b iron n