Evening capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1888-1893, 1892-09-05

dieu the al snt before swinging from til
bedpost in perfect glec at the Thought c
emancipation. Who are that army 4
six thousand six hundred and sixty-siz
Tney are the Theban legion who die
for the faith. Here is larger host i
magnificent array-eignt hundred an,
| eighty four tkousand---who perished fo
Christ in the prosecutions of Diocletian
Yondcr is family group. Felicitas, o
Rome. and her children. While the,
were dying for the faith she stood en-
couraging them. One son was whippe,
to death by thorns, another was funt
| from rock, another was beheaded. A
last Che mother became martyr. Their,
they are togcther-a family group II
heaven. Yonder is John Bradford, wht
said in the fire, I'VE shall have merry
supper with the Lord tonightr Yondel
Is Henry Woes. who exclaimed as ht
died, "If had ten heads they should al
fall off for Christi
The great throng of the martyrs
They had hot lead poured down theil
| throats: horses were fastened to theil
hands, and other horses to their feet
and thus they were pulled apart; they
had their tongues pulled out by red hol
pincers; they were sewed up ia the skins
OF animals and zen thrown to the dogs
they were daubed with combustibles
and then get on fret If all the martyrs
stakes that have been kindled could be
set at proper distances they would make
the midnight all the world over bright
rs noondayl
And now they sit yondor in the mar
tyrs' gallery. For them the fires OF per-
secution have gone out. Tie swords
ere sheathed and the mob hushed. Now
they watch us with al all Observing
syinpathy. They know all the pain, all
The hardship, all the anguish, all the in
justice, all the privation. They cannot
keep still. They cry: Courage! The
ire will not consume. TIE foods can
not drown. The lions cannot devour!
Couragel down there in the arena.
What, are they all looking? This
night we answer back the salutation
they give, and cry, "Hail! sons and
daughters of the frew
ALL BRETHREN IN CHRIST.
look again ard see another gallery,
chat of eminent Christians. Wha5strikes
me strangely is the mixing in com
panionship 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 de-
nounced him! Stranger than all, there
Ia John Calvin and James Arminius!
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 fa-
natic. There are the sweet singers Top
lady, Montgomery, Charles Wesley,
Isaac Watts and Mrs. Sigourney. 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 Brainard, of the aborigines evan
gclized; and Mrs. Adoniram Judson.
whose prayers for Burmah took heaven
by violence! All these Christians an.
looking into the arena. Oar struggle is
nothing to theirs! Do We, in Christ's
cause, suffer from the cold? They
walked Greonlands icy mountains. DO
we suffer from the heats They swell
tered in the copies. Do we get fatigued?
They fainted, with none TO care for
them but canniDals. Are we perse-
cuted? They wero anathcmatized. And
rs they lock from their gallery and see
us felIcr III the presence OF the lions,
seem to hear isaac Watts addressing
us iii his old hymn, onlya little changed;
Must you be carried To tho skies
On tlowsry beds of ease,
While others fought TO win tho prize
Or sailed through bloody seasl
Toplady shouts in his old hymn:
Your harps, ye trembling saints,
Down from the willows take
Loud to the praise of love divine.
Bid every string awake.
While Charles Wesley, tho Methodist.
breaks forth il his favorite words, a lit
tie varied:
a charge To keep you have,
A God to giorlfy;
A never dying soul to save.
And IT 1t fer the sky!
OUR pEPARTED FRIENDS.
look again and l see the gallery of
our departed. Many Of those in the
other gtlllries wo have heard of, but
these We know. Oh, how familiar Their
faces! They sat at our tables, and We
walked to the house of God in company
Havo they forgotten usg Those fathers