Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1895-10-28
Paul fought with beasts at
The Applause of the Prophets.

THE Applause of the Pronbets.
In the ancient amphitheater the peo-
RE got so excited that they would shout
! from the galleries to the men in the
arena: cat it again 70 Forward I"
cone more strokeP p '|Look out r' Fall
hack ~ "Huzza! Huzzar' So in that
gallery, prophetic and apostolic, they
cannot keep their peace. Daniel cries
out, .sThy God will deliver thee from
the mouth Of the ionsI'' David ex-
claims, "He Will not suffer thy foot to
be moved!'' Isaiah calls out: ''Fear
not! I am with thee! Be not dis
n1aved?' Paul exclaims, "Victory
through our Lord Jesus Christ!' That
throng Of prophets and apostles cannot
keep still. They make the weIlzin ring
with shouting and hallelUiahs.
I look again and I see the gallery Of
the martyrs. Who is that? Hugh Lati-
mer, sure enough He would not apollo
gize for the truth preached, and SO he
died, the night before swinging from
the bedpost in perfect glee at the thought
of emancipation. Who are that army of
6,666? They are the Theban legion
who died for the faith. Here is a larger
host in magnificent array-884, O00-
who persisted for Christ in the persecu-
tions Of DiOcletian. Yonder is a family
group--Felicitas of Rome and her chill
dren. While they were dying for the
faith she stood encouraging them. One
son was whipped to death by thorns,
another was flung from a rock, another
was beheaded. At last the mother be-
came a martyr There they are, togeth-
era family group in heaven Yonder
is John Bradford, who said in the fire,
eve shall have a merry supper with
the Lord tonight. Yonder is Henry
Woes, who exclaimed as he died, eff I
had ten heads, they should all fall off
for Christ. - The great throng of the
martyrs They had hot lead poured
down their threats, horses We're fastened
to their hands and other horses to their
feet. and thus they were pulled apart.
They had their tongues pulled out by
redhot pinchers; they were sewed up in
the skins Of animals and then thrown to
the dogs; they were daubed with COM
bustibles and set on firel If all the mar
tyrs stakes that have been kindled
could be set at proper distances, they
would make the midnight all the world
over bright as MONDAY! And now they
sit yonder in the martyrs gallery. For
them the fires of persecution 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 priva
ton. They cannot keep still. They cry:
Courage! The fire will not consume.
The floods cannot drown. The lions can
not devourl Courage, down there in
the arena -
All Agree In Heaven.
What, are they all looking? This night
we answer back the salutation they give
and cry, Hail, sons and daughters of
the fire -
look again, and I see another gal
lery, that of eminent Christians. What
strikes me strangely is the mixing in
cOmpanionship Of those who on earth
could not agree. There I see Martin
Luther. and beside him a Roman Cath
Ollie who looked beyond the supersti-
tions of his church and is saved. There
is Albert Barnes and around him the
presbytery which tried him for hetero-
doxy! Yonder is Lyman Beecher and
the church court that denounced him
Stranger than all, there are John Calvin
and James Arminius! Who would have
thought they would sit so lovingly to-
gether? There are George Whitefield and
the bishops who would not let him
come into their pulpits because they
thought him a fanatic. There are the
Charles Wesley Isaac Watts and Mrs.
Sigourney. IL heaven had had no music
before they went up, they would have
started the singing. And there the band
of Observation-Disclosures Abeel, talking
of China redeemed, and John Scudder
of India saved, and David Brainerd of
the aborigines evangelical, and Mrs.
Adoniram Judson, whose prayers for
Burma 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 sweltered 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 falter in the presence of the lions
I seem to hear Isaac Watts addressing us
in his old hymn, only little changed:
Must you be carried to the skies
On f1owery beds of ease,
While others fought to win the prize,
Or sailed through bloody seas?
Toplady shouts in his old hymn:
vo,7r harms va traYob1ipo
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: