The free press. (Poplarville, Miss.) 1890-19??, 1902-03-06

martyrs. Who % thats Hugh Latmer,
sure enough He would not apologize for
the. truth he preached. and 20 he diied' the
night before swinging from the bedpost M
perfect gce az the thought OF emancipa-
ton Who Is that army Of GG56y They are
the Theban legion who died for the iaith.
Here Is a larger host in magnificent array
Ssl 900, who persisted for Christ IN the
prosecutions Of Diocletian. 1onder y
family group Felicitas Of Rome, and her
children While they were dying for the
faith she stood encouraging them. One
son was whipped to death by thornsi an
other was flung from a 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 hre, We shall have
a merry supper with the Lord tonight!
Yonder is Henry Woes, who exclaimed a.
he died, IF | had ten heads, they should
all fall off for Christi" The great throng
of the martyrsl They had hot lead poured
down their threats; horses were fastened
to their hands and other horses 20 their
feet, and thus they We're pulled apart;
they had their tongues pulled out BY red
hot plncers they were sewed up IN the
skins Of animals and then thrown 20 the
dogs; they were daubed with combustibcs
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 a. noon
| day And now they sit yonder IN 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
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
| - na
| age down there in the arena'
What? Are they all looking? This hour
| we answer back the salutation they give
and cry, Hail, sons and daughters of the
| fire."
1 look again and see another gallery
| that of eminent Christians. What strikes
me strangely is the mixing in companion
ship of those who on earth could not agree.
| There is Albert Barnes and around him
the presbytery who tried him for hetero-
| doXy! Wonder are Lyman Beecher and
the church court that denounced him!
Stranger than all, there are John Calvin
| and James Arminius! Who would have
thought that they would sit so lovingly to-
I gether? There are George Whiteheld and
| the ministers VINO would not let him come
into their pulpits because they thought
! him a fanatic. There are the sweet sing
ers Toplady, Montgomery, Charles Wes-
ley, 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 Abel, talking of China redeemed;
and John Scudder, of India saved; and
David Brainerd, of the aborigines evan
| gelized and Mrs. Adoniram Judson,
whose prayers for Burma took heaven by
vioence All these Christians are looking
into the arena. Our struggle Is nothing to
theirs! Do we in Christ's cause suffer
! ~, I'D lam "a
| icy mountains. Do we suffer from the
heat? They sweltered 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
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 fowery 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,
! breaks 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!
| ] look 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 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
names. They watch this light for heaven.
Nay. ! see them rise up and lean over and
wave before us their recognition and en-
couragement. 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 handshaklng,
while their voices come ringing down from
| the gallery, crying, BE thou faithful unto
| death, and you shall have a CROWN
But here | pause, overwhelmed with the
majesty and the JOY of the scene! Gallery
of the King! Gallery of angels Gallery
of prophets and apostles! Gallery of mar
tyrs! Gallery of saints! Gallery of friends
and kindred! o majestic circles of light
and love Throngs, throngs, throngs!
How shall we stand the gaze of the uni,
verse? Myriads of eyes heaming on us!
| Myriads of hearts beating in sympathy for
u.s. 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 g o.
rifed kindred for us-shall we give up the
fight and die? No, Son of God, who didst
die to save us! No, We angels, whose wings
are spread forth to shelter us! No. ye
prophets and apostles, whose warnings
startle u.s. No, We loved ones, whose arms
are outstretched to receive us! No; we
will never surrender!
Sure I must fight if would reign,
Be faithful to my Lord,
A. L. hn