The Banner-Democrat. [volume] (Lake Providence, East Carroll Parish, La.) 1892-current, 1892-10-29

violence! All these Christians are looking
into the arena. Our struggle is moth
ing 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 sweltered
in the tropics. Do we get fatigued?
They tainted, with none to care for
them but cannibals. Are we perse-
cuted? 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 addressing us
in his old hymn, only little changed:
Must you be carried to the skies
On fowery beds Of ease,
While others fought to win the prize,
Or sailed through bloody seasf
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, the Methodist,
breaks forth in his favorite words, u
little varied:
A charge to keep you have.
God to glorify;
never dying soul to save,
And e. 1t for the sky
look again and see the gallery of
our departed. Many of those in the
other galleries we have heard of; but
these we knew. oh! how familiar their
faces! They sat at our tables, and we
walked to the House of God in COM
pany. Have they forgotten us? Those
fathers and mothers started us on the
road of life. Are they careless as to
what becomes of us? And those chill
dren do they look on with stolid indif-
ference as to whether we win or
lose this battle for eternity? Nay; 1
see that child running its hand over
your brow and saying: Father. do not
fret" Mother, do not worry" They
remember the day they left u.s. They
remember the agony of the last fare
we'll. Though years in Heaven, they
know our faces. They remember our
sorrows. They speak our names. They
watch this fight for Heaven. Nay; I
see them rise up and lean over,
and wave before us their recognition
and encouragement. The gallery is not
full They are keeping places for us.
After we have slain the lion they ex-
pect the King to call us, saving: Come
in the arena wipe the sweat from my
brow, and stand on tiptoe, reaching up
my right hand TO clasp theirs in rap
turous hand-shaking, while their voices
come ringing down from the gallery,
crying; BE thou faithful unto death,
and you shall have a crown"
But here pause, overwhelmed with
the majesty and the Joy of the scene!
Gallery of the King! Gallery of angels!
Gallery of prophets and apostlesl Gal
lery of martyrs! Gallery of saints!
Gallery of friends and kindred! Oh,
majestic circles of light and love!
Throngsl Throngs! Throngs! How
shall we stand the gaze of the uni
verse? Myriads of eyes beaming on
u.s. Myriads of hearts beating in SYM
pathy for us! How. shall we ever dare
to sin again? How shall! we everbecome
discouraged again? How shall we ever
feel lonely again? With God for us,
and angels for us, and prophets and
apostles for us, and the great souls of
the ages for us, and our glorified kim
dred for us-shall we give up the fight
and die? No! Son of God, who didst
die to save us. No! we angles, whose
wings are spread forth to shelter us.
No! We prophets and apostles, whose
warnings startle us. No! We loved
ones, whose arms are outstretcbed to
receive us. No! we will never sur
render.
Sure must fight II would reign
Be faithful to my Lord;
And bear the cross. endure the pain,
Supported by Thy word.
Thy saints in all this glorious war
Shall conquer. thou they die,
They see the triumph from afar,
And seize it with their eye.
When that illustrious day shall rise,
And all thine armies shine
In robes Of victory through the skies,
The glory shall be thine.
NY hearers. Shall we die in tn.
arena or rise to join our friends in the
gallery? Through Christ we may come
off more than conquerors. A sol
der, dying in the hospital, rose
up in bed the last moment and
cried: Here here!" His attendants
put him back on his pillow and
asked him why he shouted s'Here!'
ssOh, heard the roll-caH of Heaven,
and was only answering to my napne!"
wonder whether, after this battle Of
life is over, our names will be callesl in
the muster roll of the pardonetl and
glorified, and. with the joy of Heaven
breaking upon cur souls, we shall cry:
ssHarsl harair