The enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 188?-1899, 1895-10-30


Scudder, of India saved; and David
Brainerd, Of the aborigines evangel-
lied; 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 Christs
cause, safer 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. And rs
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 the fowery beds of euse,
While others fought to win the price
Or sailed through bloody seas.
Toplay shouts in his old hymn:
Your harps, ye t-er.bli2g saints,
Down from the willows take;
Loud to the praise Of love divine
Bid every string awake.
While Charles Wesley, the Methodist,
breal6 forth in his favorite words
little varied
A charge to keep Tou have,
a God to glorify;
A never-dying soul to save,
And tit it 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 company.
Have they forgotten rs? Those fathers
and mothers started us on the road Of
life. Arc they careless as to what be-
comes of us? And those children; do
they look on with stolid Indifference
as to whether we win or lose this battc
for eternity? Nay; see that child run
ming his hand over your brow and
saying, 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 sor-
rows, They speak our names. They
watch us fight for Heaven. Nay; see
them rise up and lean over, and wave
before us their recognition and encour-
agement. That gallery is not full.
They are keeping places for us. After
we have slain the lion, they expect the
King to call US, saying, Come up
higher" Between the hot struggles 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 the
angels! Gallery Of the prophets and
apostles! Gallery of martyrs! Gallery
OF saints! Gallery Of friends and
kindred! Oh, majestic circles OF light
and love! Throngs! Throngs! Throngs
How shall we stand the gaze of the
universe? Myriads of eyes beaming on
us! How shall we ever dare to sin
again? How shall we ever become dls'
couraged again? How shall we ever
feel lonely again? WIN uoo 1or US,
and angels for us and prophets and
apostles for us, and the great souls Of
the ages for us, and our giorlhed KIN
dred for us-shall we give up the hgh,
and die? No! Son OF God' VINO olds'
die to save us. no! ye angels whose
wings are spread 1orth 10 shelter us
No! ye prophets ana apoSties' Whose
warnings startie US NO. ye ioVea ones
whose arms are on1streVeheo 10 receive
us. No! we VIII never surrender!
Sure must fight II would reign