The age-herald., 1902-03-02

cry, 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 redeeme ed; and John Scudded, of India saved; and David Brainerd, of the aborigines evangelized: and Mrs. Adon- ram Judson whose prayers for Burma took heaven by violencei All these Chris tlans are looking into the arena. Our struggle is nothing to theirsis Do we in Christ's cause suffer from the cold2 They walked Greenlande icy mountains. Do we get fatigued? They tainted. with none to care for them but cannlbals. Are we persecuted? They were mathematical. And as they look from their gallery and see us falter in the presence of the lions l 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 seas2
 Toplady shouts in his old hymn:
 Your harps ye trembling saints, i.
 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 a little varied:
 charge to keep you have,
 God to glorify,
 A never dying soul to save
 and fit 1t for the sky
 l look again, and l 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 fiiey for Itco faf1 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 remember our sorrows. They speak our names. They watch this fight for heav- en. Nay, I see them rise up and lean over and wave before us their recognition and encouragement. That gallery is not full. They are keeping place for us. After we have slain the lion --.ey expect the King to call us, saying, Come up high er!' Between the hot struggles in the arena l wipe the sweat from my brow and stand on tiptoe, reaching up my right hand to clasp theirs in rapturous hand shaking while their voices come ringing down from the gallery, crying Be thou faithful unto death, and you shall have a crownl'
 The Gaze of the Universe.
 But here l pause overwhelmed with the majesty and the joy of the scenei Gallery of the Kingi Gallery of angels /. Gallery of prophets and apostles! Gallery of martyrs Gallery of saintsi Gallery of friends and kindredi majestic circles of light and love! Throngs, throngs, throngs How shall we stand the gaze of the uni verse? Myriads of eyes beaming on us, Myriads of hearts beating in sympathy Tor us! How shall we ever dare to sin again? How shall we ever become dis couraged again? How shall we ever feel lonely again? With God for us and an- gels for us and prophets and apostles for us and the great souls of the ages for us and our glorifed kindred for us-shall We give up the fight and die? No, Son of God, who didst die to save us! No. ve angels. whose wings are spread forth to shelter us! No; ye prophets and apostles. whose warnings startle usl No, ye loved ones whose arms are outstretched to re- ceive us! No; we will never surrenderl
 Sure l must fight if would reign,
 Be faithful to my Lord,
 And bear the cross, endure the main
 Supported by thy word
 Thy saints in all this glorious war
 Shall conquer though they die;
 They see the triump ph from afar
 And seize 1t with their eye <
 When that illustrious day shall rise And all thine armies shine , In robes of victory through the skies,
 The glory shall be thine. z , 1.
 My hearers, shall we die in. the arena or rise to join our friends in the gallery ? Through Christ we may come off more than conquerors. A soldier dying in the hospital rose up in bed the last moment and cried, Here, herep' His attendants put him back on his pillow and asked him why he shouted 'IIerei' "Oh, I heard the roll call of heaven, and I was only answering to my namer' I wonder whether after this battle of this life Is over our names will be called in the mus ter roll of the pardoned and glorified and, with the joy of heaven breaking upon our souls, shall cry, Here herei"