The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1902-04-29

faith she stood encouraging them One
son was whipped TO death by thorns; an
other was flung from L rock; another was
beheaded. At last the mother became
martyr. There they are together. a family
group in heaveni Nonder is John Brad
ford, vino sand in the FIRE 1--WE shall havc
n merry supper with the Lord tonight"
Wonder Is Henry Woes. who exclaimed as
all fall Of for Christi" The great thron2
of the martyrsl They had hot lead poured
down their throats; 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 red
hot plncers: they were sewCd up IN the
skins of animals and then thrown to the
dogs: thoy were daubed with oombustibles
and set on f1rei N all the martyrs stakes
that have been kindle1 could be set at
proper distances they would make the mid
night all the world over bright as noon
day! And now they sit yonder il the mar
tyrs' gallery.
For them the fires of persecution have
gone out; the swords are sheathed and the
mob hushed Now they watch us with an
al observing sympathy. They know all
the pain, all the hardship, all the anguish,
all the injustice. all the privation They
cannot keep still. They cry: Courage
The fire will not consume; the floods can
not drown; the lions cannot devour. Cour-
age down there in the arclaW
w HdNs AIC al LOOKING. Inns hour
we answer back the salutation they give
and cry, Hail, sons and daughters of the
Iirel"
/ look again and see another gallery
that OF eminent Christians. What strikes
me strangely rs the mixing in companion
snip OF those who on Garth could not agree.
There is Albert Barnes and around him
tle presbytery who tried him for hetero-
doXy! fonder are Lyman Beecher and
the church court that denounced him!
stranger than all, there are John Calvin
and James Arminiusl Who would have
thought that they would sit SO lovingly to.
gether? There are George Whiteield and
the ministers who would not let him come
into their pulpits because they thought
him a fanatic. There are the sweet sing.
srs Ioplady, Montgomery, Charles Wes-
ley, Isaac Watts and Mrs. Sigomney. IL
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 redeo med
and John Scudder, of India saved; and
Ge.ized; and Mrs. Adoniram Judson,
whose prayers for Burma took heaven by
violencel All these Christians are looking
into the arena. Our struggle is nothing to
theirsl Do we in Christ's cause suffer
from the cold? They walked Greenland's
heat? They sweltercd in tropics. Do we
get fatigued? They tainted, with none to
care for them but cannibals. Are we per,
secuted: They were mathematical And
as they look from their gallery and see us
faiter in the presence of the lions / seem
TO near Isaac Watts addressing us in his
cd hymn, only little changed:
Must YOU be carried to the skies
On tlowery beds of ease
While Others fought to win the prize
Or sailed through bloody seas!
Top.ady 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 words little varied
a charge to keep you have,
y God to glorify,
a never dying soul to save
And fit it for the sky!
lcok 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 for
gotten us! Those fathers and mothers
started us on the road of life Are they
careless as to what becomes of us? And
those chlldren-do they look with stolid
indifference as to whether we win or lose
this battle of life? They remember the
day they left US. They remember the
agony Of the last farewell. Though years
III heaven, they know our faces. They re-.
member 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 en-.
enlargement. That gallery is not full
They are keeping places for us. After we
have slain the lior 5ney expect the King
to call us, saying, Come up higher."
between the hot struggles in the arena
| '@ipe the sweat from my brow and stand
on tiptoe, reaching up my right hand to
clasp theirs In rapturous handshaking,
while their voices come ringing down from
the gallery, crying, Be thou faithful unto
death, and you shall have crown!"
But here ] pause, overwhelmed with the
majesty and the joy OF the scene! Gallery
Of the King! Gallery of angels! Gallery
II prophets and apostles! Gallery of mar
lyrs! Gallery of saints! Gallery of friends
and kindred! o majestic circles of light
and love! Throngs, throngs, throngsl
How shall we stand the gaze of the uni.
verse; Myrlads of eyes beaming on usl
Myriads of hearts beating in sympathy for
Us! 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 the
great souls of the ages for us and our glo-
rihed kindred for us-shall we give up the
fight and die? No, Son of God, who didst
dle 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 loy ed ones, whose arms
are outstretched to receive u.s. No; we
will never surrender!
Sure I must fight If 7 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 see the triumph from afar
And seize it with their eye.
When that ilustrious dav shall 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 hospi-
tai rose up in bed the last moment and
cried, Here, hereW His attendants put
him back on his pillow and asked him wbv
he shouted "Herel" ooh, 1 heard the roll
call of heaven. and / was only answering
TO my name" I wonder whether after
this battle of this life is over our names
will be called in Che muster roll of the
pardoned and glorifcd and, with the 10Y Of
heaven breaking upon our souls, shalt cry