The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1895-11-01
about lions. Paul fought with beasts at
Ephesus.
The Applause Of the Prophets.


In the ancient amphitheater tho poo
Pile got so excited that they would shout
from the galleries TO the men in the
arena: "At il againl" Forward p
lone more stroke |" "Look out - "Fall
backr' "Huzzai Huzzaw So in that
gallery, prophetic and apostolic, they
cannot keep their peace Daniel cries
out, "Thy God will deliver thee from
the mouth Of the lionsl" David ex-
claims, He will not suffer thy foot to
be movedl" Isaiah calls out; "Fear
not I am with thee Be not dis.
mayedp' Paul exclaims, "victory
through our Lord Jesus Christi" That
throng Of prophets and apostles cannot
keep still. They make the welkin ring
with shouting and halleluiahs.
look again and see the gallery of
the martyrs. Who is that9 Hugh Lati.
mer, sure enough! He would not apollo.
gize for the truth preached, ard so he
died, the night before swinging from
the bedpost in perfect glee at the thought
Of emancipation. Who are that army of
G,666? They arc the Theban legion
who died for the faith. Here is larger
host in magnificent array--S84. 600
who persisted for Christ in the persecu-
tions of Diocletian. Yonder is a family
group-Felicita 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 martyr. There they are, togeth-
era family group in heaven YoIder
is John Bradford, who said in the fire,
"We shall have a merry supper with
the Lord tonight" Yonder is Henry
Woes, who exclaimed as he died, IF |
had ten heads, they should all fall of
for Christ" The great throng of the
martyrs They had hot lead poured
down their throats horses were 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 fire! If al 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 tho
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 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 fire ~
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 l see Martin
Luther, and beside him Roman Cath
Ollie who locked beyond the suporsti-
lions of his church and is saved. There
is Albert Barnes and around him the
presbytery which tried him for hetcro-
doxy! Yonder is Lyman Reecher 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 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-David Abeel, talking
of China redeemed. and John Scudder
Of India saved, and David Brainerd Of
the aborigines evangelical, and Mrs.
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 fatigucd? They tainted, with none
to caresfor thom but cannibals Are we
prosecuted? They were mathematical
And as they look from their gallery ana
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 1iowory beds OF ease,
While others fought to win the prize.
Or sailed through bloody seas9
Toplady shouts in his old hymn:
Your harps, We trembling saints,
Down from the willows take,
Loud 70 the praise of love divine,
Bid every string awake.
While Charles Wesley, the Methodist,
breaks forth in his favorite words, lit
tie varied:
A charge to keep you have,
A God to glorify,
A never dying soul to save,
And fit it for the sllyi
look agar, and | see the gallery Of
our departed. Many Of those in the 9TH
er 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 Oh the road of life
Are they careless as to what becomes OF
as? And those children, do they look
on with stolid indifference as to wheth-
er we win CT lose this battle for eter
nifty? Nay see that child running HI.
hand over Jour brow and saying: ga
Their, do not fret - Mother, do not
worry" They remember the day they
left us. they remember the agony q
the last farewell. Though years il heav-
en-, they know our faces. They re,nem-
Der our sorrows. They speak our r,mes.
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
frhov ara tno,,ipo y,1oo &c fc,. no ~ n,