The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1892-09-16

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ing into the arena. Our struggle is
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 fatigued?
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 fall
ter in the presence of the lions, seem
to hear Isaac Watts addressing us in his
old hymn, only little changed:
Mus: you be carried to the skies
On flowery 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 divine,
Bid every string awake.
While Charles Wesley, the Methodist,
breaks forth in his favorite words, lit
tie varied:
charge to keep you have,
God TO glory;
A never dying soul to save,
And fit it FOR the skyl
look again and I see the gallery OF
our departed. Many of those in the
other galleries we have heard of; but
these we knew. o! how familiar their
facesl They sat at our tables, and we
walked to the house of God in company.
Havo they forgotten us? Those fathers
and mothers started us on the road of
life. Are they careless as to what be-
comes OF us? Aud those children: Do
they look on with stolid indifference as
to whether we win or lose this battle
for eternity? Nay; l see that child run
ming it's hand over your brow and say
ing: Father, do not fret" Mother, do
not worry" They remember the day
they left us. They remember the
agony of the last farewell. Though
years in Heaven they know our faces.
They remember our sorrows. They
speak our names. They watch this
fight for Heaven. Nay; see them rise
| up and lean over, and wave before us
their recognition and encouragement
That gallery is not full. They are
keeping places for u.s. After we have
slain the lion 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 and
stand on tiptoe, reaching up my right
hand to clasp their i'll rapturous hand
shaking, while their voices come
ringing down from the gallery, crying,
''Be thou faithful unto death, and you
shall have u crown"
Bat here l pause, overwhelmed with
the majesty and the JOY Of the scene!
Gallery of the king! Gallery of angelsl
Gallery of prophets and apostles! Gal
lery of martyrs. Gallery of saints. Gal
lerv of friends and kindred! o, majes-
tic circles OF light and love! Throngsl
Throngsl Throngs! How shall we
stand the gaze of the universe?
Myriads of eyes bcaming on us!
Mvriads of hearts beating in SYM
pathy for US, How shall we ever dare
10 sin again? How shall we ever be-
come 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 kid
dred for us-shall we give up the Tight
and die? No. Son of God, who didst
die to save us. No! We angels, whose
wings are spread forth to shelter us.
No! We prophets and apostles, whose
warnings startle us. No! We loved ones,
whose arms are outstretched to receive
u.s. MOI we will never surrender
Sure must fight if would reign
Be faithful TO my Lord;
And bear the cross, endure the palm
Supported b. Tiny word
Thy saints in al this glorious
Shall conquer. though they die;
They see the triumph from afar,
And seize it with their eye.
When that illu5trious 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 the
arena or rise to join our friends in the
gallery? Through Christ we may come
off more than conquerors. 4 soldier,
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 Here 20, heard the roll
call OF Heaven and was only answer
ing to my name.' l wonder whether,
after this battle of life is over, our
names will be called in the muster
roll of the pardoned and glorified, and,
with the joy of Heaven breaking upon
our souls, we shall cry, Here! Here!"