The St. Mary banner. (Franklin, Parish of St. Mary, La.) 1889-1931, 1902-04-19

7 look again and see the gallery of the
martyrs. Who is that? Hugh Latlmer,
sure enough, He would not apologize for
the truth he preached, and so he died, the
night before swinging from the Dedpost IN
perfect glee at the thought OF emanclpa-
ton. Who is that army of 6666! They are
the Theban legion who died for the faith.
Here IS larger host in magnificent array
Ss4, OOO who persisted for Christ In the
prosecutions of Diocletian Wonder is
family group. Fclicitas, of Rome, and her
children. While they were dying for the
faith she stood encouraging them. One
son was whipped to death by thorns; an
other was flung from rock; another was
beheaded At last the mother became a
martyr. There they are together, family
group in heaven Yonder is John Brad
ford, who said in the fire, I'VE shall have
a merry supper with the Lord tonight >
he died, "If | had ten heads, they should
all fall off for Christi" The great throng
of the martyrs, They had hot lead poured
down their threats; horses were fastened
to their hands and other horses to their
feet, and thus they We're pulled apart;
they had their tongues pulled out by red
hot plncers; they We're sewed up IN the
skins of animals and then thrown to the
dogs; they were daubed with combustibles
and set on fire. If all the martyrs stakes
that have been kindled 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 IN the mar
tyrs' gallery
For shem 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 privation. They
cannot keep still. They cry: Courage,
The fire will not consume; the floods can
not drown the lions caunot devour. Cour-
age down there Ill the arena!'
What? Are they all looking? This hour
we answer back the salutatlon they give
and cry, Hail, sons and daughters of the
fire."
I look again and see another gallery
that of eminent Christians. What strikes
me strangely is the mixing in companions
ship of those who on earth could not agree.
There is Albert Barnes and around him
the presbytery who tried him for hetero-
doxy. Yonder are Lyman Beecher and
the church court that denounced him.
Stranger than all, there are John Calvin
and James Arminius, "A no would have
thought that they would sit 50 lovingly to-
gether2 There are George Whtetield and
llc IlllIIStGIS WIZ Ntsuli Iiot iCl MN tuIiiC
into their pulpits because they thought
him a fanatic. There are the sweet sing
ers Topiady. Montgomery, Charles Wes-
ley, Isaac Watts and Mrs. Sigourney. II
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 evan
sciized; and Mrs. Adonram Judson,
whose prayers for Burma took heaven by
violence! All these Christians are looking
into the arena. Our struggle is nothing to
from the cold! They walked Greenland's
icy mountains. Do we suffer from the
heat? They sweltered in tropics. Do we
get fatigued! They tainted, with none to
care for them bat 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 l seem
to hear Isaac Watts addressing us in his
cid hymn, only little changed:
Must you be carried to the skies
On flowery beds of ease
While others fought to win the prize
Or sailed through bloody seas?
Toplady 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,
leaks forth in words little varied:
A charge to keep you have,
A God to glorify,
A never dying soul to save
And fit it for the sky!
J. look again and ! see the gallery of our
e ~&k
galleries we have heard Of but these we
knew. Oh, how familiar their faces! They
SGT 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 children--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
in heaven, they know our faces. They re-
member our sorrows. They speak our
Nay, see them rise up and lean over and
wave before us their recognition and en-
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
I wipe 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"
1;ut here I pause, overwhelmed with the
majesty and the Joy of the scene! Gallery
Of tie King. Gallery Of angels, Caller " !
Of prophets and apostles Gallery of mar
Iyrs, Gallery Of saints! Gallery Of friend
and kindred O majestic circles Of ligl
and love. Throngs, thrones. throngl
How shall we stand the gaze Of the ur
verse; Mvriads of eyes beaming on u
NIyriads of hearts beating in sympathy f
Is. How shall we ever dare TO sin agai
How shall we ever become diseourag
again? How shall we ever feel lon,
,gain? With God for us and angels for1
md prophets and apostles for us and
treat souls of the ages for us and our
flied kindred for us-shall we give up
light and die? No, Son of God, who
lie to save US. No We angels, whose v
ire spread forth to shelter us! Nq
prophets and apostles. whose war
tartle us! No, ye loved ones, who's,
re outstretched to receive us. n
will never surrender.
Sure I must fight if I would reigi
Be faithful to my Lord,
And bear the cross, endure the pa
Supported by Thy word
Thy saints in all this glorious wa