Connecticut western news., 1895-10-31

tion. They cannot keep still They cry: "Courage The fire-wiu not consume. The floods cannot drown. The lions can not devour! 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 firep
 look again, and 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 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- doxyl Wonder is Lyman Beecher and the church court that denounced himi Stranger than all. there are John Calvin. and James Arminiusl Who would have thought they would sit so lovingly to- gether? There are George Whitefield and the bishops wlfu would not let him come into their pulpits because they thought him fanatic. There are the sweet singers-Toplady, 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-Dayid Abeel, talking SS 11l of India saved, and David .Brainerd of the aborigines evangelized, 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 leat? They sweltered in the tropics. Do we get fatigued? They tainted, with none to care for them but cannibals. Are we persecnted? They were anathematized. 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 howery 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, 8 lit- tie varied:
 A charge to keep you have
 A God to glorify.
 A never dying soul to save, - And fitit for the skyf
 look again, and see the gallery of our departed. Many of those inthe oth- CT 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 us? Those fathers and mothers started us on the road of lifes, Are they careless as to what becomes of us? And those children, do they look Cn with stolid indifference. as to wheth- CT we win or lose this battle for eter- nifty? Nay;I see that child running his hand over your brow and saying :" Fa- ther, do not fret'' s'Mother,. do not worry They remember the day they left us. They remember the agony of the last farewell Though years in heay- en, they know our faces. They remem Der our sorrows. They speak our names They watch this fight for heaven. Nayi see them rise up and leanF over and wave before us their recognition and encouragement. 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 high er!' 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 rapturous handshakinR, while their voices come ringing down from the gallery, crying, "Be thou faithful unto death, and you shall have a crownr'
 Conquerors Through Christ.
 But here pause, overwhelmed with the majesty and the joy of the scene Gallery of the king l Gallery of angels! Gallery of prophets and apostles ]! Gal lery of martyrsl Gallery of saints Gal lery of friends and kindredl Oh, majes- tic circles of light and love Throngsl l Throngs! Throngsl How shall we stand the gaze of the universe? Myriads of eyes beaming on us Myriads of hearts beating in sympathy for usl How shall we ever dare to sin again? How shall we ever become discouraged again? How shall we ever feel lonely again? With God for us. and angels for us, and prophets and apostles for us, and tho great souls of the ages for us. and our elorified kindred for us. shall we give up the fight and die? No, Son of God, who didst die to save usi No. ye angels, whose wings are spread forth to shelter us. No, ye prophets and apostles, whose ! warnings, startle us. No, ye loved ones, | whose arms are outstretched to receive | us. No, we will never surrenderi Sure must fight if 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. though they die. | They sce the triumph from afar, And seize it with their eye. | When that illustrious day shan rise. And all thine armies shine | In robes of victory through the skies, | The glory shall be thine. | My hearers, shall we die in the arena or rise to join our friends in the gallery ? Through Christ we may come of more than conquerors A soldier, dying in the hospital, rose up in bed the last mo- ment and cried: "Herei Herep His attendants. put him back on his pillow and asked him why he shouted, Here r "Ohl I heard the roll call of heaven, and was only answering to my namep' I wonder whether, after this battle of life is over. our names will be called in the muster roll of the pardoned and glorifed, and with the joy of heaven breaking upon our souls we shall cry | HHarai Heratb