Newspaper Page Text
W. D. B CHAMBERS, Proprietor.
VOL. X,
THE RIVALS IN THE STREET.
I.
All day in the street there’s a jumble, •
The people go hurrying past;
The proud and the careless and humble
At many a corner ure massed.
And many a man in a hurry
Goes dodging the trucks and the cars,
With no inclination to worry
O'er the state of affair on the stage—
Each hopes to eclipse all the rest
Who are pushing and rushing along,
And the weak and the timid are
pressed
Aside by the bold and the strong.
11.
All day in the rush and the rattle
The contest continues, and ne’er
On the field of the bloodiest battle
Were rivals more willing to dare
Than are they that go wildly pursuing
The maddening dollar all day,
Each ready to work the undoing
Of any who stands in the way—
Each hoping to pass all the rest
Who arc pushing and stumbling
• along •*
Where the weak and the timid are
pressed
Aside by the bold and the strong.
111.
Far away from the racket, the riot,
Two men are asleep and serene
Where only the birds break the quiet
That reigns o'er the flowery scene —
But lately as rivals they hurried
Where the proud and the humble con
tend, - . • ’
And each of them watched- and was wor
ried
Lest the other should win in the end —
Each hoped to outstrip all the rest
That galloped or stumbled along—
! And the weak and the halt are still
pressed
Aside by the bold and the strong.
-S. E. Kiser.
gilly Smith’s
Brotherly Kindness.
ILLY SMITH has a Chicago
I newspaper position that is
) neither fish, flesh nor fowl.
q He goes down to the offiee
early every morning, reads papers for
the city editor, answers the telephone
and does his best to stand off people
who, tightly clutching the morning
paper, come up the elevator to have
it out. There is no name for Billy’s
job in the newspaper office, but,
named or nameless, it is a job that is
joyless.
Billy has-a brother who is aa elec
trical expert in New York City, where
he works for the biggest concern in
the land and makes as many thou
sands a year as Billy makes dollars a
week. The brother is sent by his
company all over the 'United States
to see about installing plants In dif
ferent cities and to pass on the fruit
fulness of the ground for electrical
operations. Billy's brother passed
through the city the other day and
calling on Billy said he was on his
way to Omaha, where there was a big
light on between his and another com
pany for certain municipal rights, and
Where the city government was di
vided between the two parties to the
contest.
“I hope to win out,” said the brother
in parting, “but there’s a legal fight
on as well, and the affair may take
some time before a settlement 13
reached.”
Four days later, less than half an
hour after Billy Smith had reached his
desk, a stranger appeared and laid
this card before him:
* •
: HERBERT M’COVERN, :
: CITY ATTORNEY, OMAHA. :
Billy read the card and looked up at
the stranger. “What can I do for
you?” lie asaed.
“Well,” said the Western city
official, “I don’t know any better place
to come for information than to a
newspaper office. I did not know but
that you might have-at your
end the nances of half a dozen
electrical experts that I can call on
in order to get certain information
about the actual cost of installing
electrieql plants and the furnishing of
electricity to consumers. There’s a
row out in-my town in the City gov
ernment itself and between two rival
electrical concerns. The mayor and a
pood part of the government, includ
ing myself, are with one of the com
panies. We believe that they have a
better proposition tlinn the other,
which we think is trying a sharp
came. This second company claims
to have some'- hold on the city be
cause of an ordinance passed three
Jears ago ’a’hd we’ve got to fight it.
Now, if 1 can get the opinions of some
way up’ experts here in Chicago to
show that the.company which I favor
lias the best proposition, why it will
help secure'the franchise for it, and
it s a franchise that in the end will be
■worth millions to the company. The
concern has an expert named .Smith
11 °w in Omaha, and I’ve, been con
sulting with him, and when I get the
expert opinions here 1 shall confer
with him again on my return mid
find out how best tc iTsiTtheni In ear
plug otir case.”
Rill y Smith mused a minute. Here
was a chance to help his brother to
"bom he was - beholden -• for many
favors. “I’ve teen a .Chicago .re
porter for 111 any years, Mr. McCov
oru ’” be said, “and I know* personally
three or four of the biggest electrical
sharps in the city. I don’t mind'tel!-'
you, though it isn’t necessary- to
Ro into details, that I feel a peculiar
interest in this Omaha case, and if-you*
t-on’t mind I’ll go out with yon .as
soon as the city editor gets down and
introduce you personally to the men
you want to see. Sit down and read
♦he a while.”
Three haul’s later Billy and Attorney
MeGovcfq were in the office of a man
who knows so nifich nlfoiffT)e^Ti fctjf
'hat you get a shcek every time you
DADE COUNTY SENTINEL.
shake hands with him. The great
electrician wanted to please Billy,
and so he listened carefully to what
the attorney had to say and then gave
him a lot of figures. '
“This Is enough of itself,” said At
torney McGovern after they had left
the office, “to carry Smith's and iny
ease against that shark company.
They went to three other offices and
were given three other signed expert
statements, which Mr. McGovern de
clared clinched his ease beyond per
adventure of a failure. After this
business was closed up Billy Smith,
in the warmth of his heart and with
the recollection of many brotherly
favors in his mind, took Attorney
McGovern to the swellest Chicago res
taurant and made him his guest at a
luncheon at which several costly up
right things stood by the plates. Then
they went to a matinee and Billy
Smith bought the tickets. It was the
happiest coincidence in the world for
this newspaper boy that it was the
one day of the week when he looked
upon the face of the cashier.
' By the time they were out of the
theatre for good and had pledged
eternal friendship before saying fare
well there was just a solitary dollar
note left in Billy Smith’s pay en
velope. He considered the money and
the time well spent, however, in the
effort to help out the case of hie
brother’s electrical company against
the greedy rival who was trying tc
grab off things in Omaha. Billy had
not said one word to McGovern about
the reason for his interest in the
Omaha case beyond the statement at
starting that he did hold such an in
terest.
“Good-by, Mr. McGovern,” he saic
when the time for parting came
“When you get back to Omaha yoi
tell Expert Smith with whom you’ve
been conferring that a uewspapet
namesake of his in Chicago did whal
he could for you. I think very likely
Smith will know whom you mean.”
"I’ll do that same,” returned McGov
ern. “Smith's a mighty good fellow.
Ever since he came from his com
pany’s headquarters at New Orleans
a month ago we’ve been in close
touch.”
“Company’s headquarters in New
Orleans!” gasped Billy.
“Yes,” said McGovern, “that’s where
the company that he works for halls
from. The other, the grasping con
cern, is located in New York, and, by
the way, now I think of it, they’ve
got a man named Smith on the
ground, too. He’s a shrewd euss and
I expected to have hard work to
down him until you helped me out
to-day. Why! Do you know this
New Y’ork Smith?”
“Slightly; he’s my brother.”—Ed
ward B. Clark, in the Chicago Record-
Hcrald.
The Bichest Nation.
Some interesting statistics have been
prepared by the United States Bureau
of Statistics for the Loudon Daily
Mai! Year Book. They are very far
from being exhaustive, or contribu
tions to the discussion now going on
over the enormous balance apparently
due us from foreign countries as the
result of the commerce of the last ten
years. They are interesting and im
portant, however, as far as they go.
They put the United States at the
head of the nations in point of wealth,
estimating our property at $81,750,000,-
000; that of the United Kingdom at
$59,000,000,000; that of France at
$48,000,000,000; that of Germany at
$40,000,003,000*, and that of Russia at
$32,000,000,000. At the same Jimp our
public debt is the smallest, and that
of France is the largest. Tlie per
centage of .debt to wealth is also low
est in the United States, being -j.4-,
while the percentage of debt to
wealth in France is 12.3; in Russia,
11.1; in Germany, 8.1. Ttye remainder
of the table shows that our wheat
crop in 1901 was nearly 450,000,000
bushels’ in excess of the crop of Rus
sia, which is our nearest competitor,
but produces less than half our own
product. In 1900 we made 'about
-5,000,000 more tons of p(g-iron than
w T ere made iu the United Kingdom,
and nearly 0,000,000 more tons of
steel.—Harper’s Weekly.
Carry Your Wealth With You.
This greatest riches—in fact, all the
wealth that is of real value —must
centre in yourself. You must be rich
Yvithin, not outside of yourself; rich
iu the things that financial panics,
fluctuations of trade, accidents by
flood or fire, dishonesty of business
associates, or errors of judgment, can
not rob you of. Y’our greatest invest
ment must be self-investment; invest
ment in health, in courage, in kindli
nes. in nobility of manhood or wo
manhood.
Whoever you come in contact with
should be conscious of your wealth; its
influence should radiate from every
pore; it should look out of your eyes;
it should exhale fragrance in your
speech; It should manifest itsolf iu
your deeds; it should shed warmth,
light and comfort within its radius;
it should reach your whole com
munity. Real riches Rhould be like
the wealth of the rose, Yvhich flings
out its beauty and fragrance to every
passer-by. There ip no stinting of its
favors, no reserve of selfishness; all
it has it gives. This is true wealth.
.—O. S. Marden, in Success.
Products of Turkey.
' .Cotton grotvs splendidly in many
parts.pf the Turkish-empire. Olives,
apples,- pears, all sorts of plums,
peaches, apricots, pomegranates, toma
toes, melons, squashes, quinces, or
anges and lemons abound iu the poor
est gardens. The provinces which
owe allegiance to the Bultau would
T(A*il ten~ffhTes'tfi?'{idpuWnslf*?ffiW in
habiting them. . _
BILL AflP’S LETTER
Bartow Man Raverts to Fight
Between Carolina Senators.
HE DON’T BLAME THE COMBATANTS
In Olden Times Such Incidents Were
Thought a Great Wrong, But
Politics Have Changed
Status of Scions.
~~ * . *
I was ruminating about the fight. It
is common property and everybody
has the right to talk about it. Till
man did wrong in jumping over three
desks to strike McLaurin. About one
desk was the limit of propriety. Three
desks gives a man time to cbol.and
that makes it against the'law to fight.
As to the time and place, that is of no
consequence now'. There was a time
■ti the days of Webster and Calhoun
and Tom Benton and Henry Clay
when the United States senate was as
sacred almost as a church, but now a
large majority of its members get
their places by conduct infinitely more
disgraceful than fighting. Bribery and
corruption have got so common that
a man cannot get there without using
a big pile of money and making a lot
of promises. Of course I do not include
our southern senators, for they
haven’t got the money. If we had
some millionaires in Georgia Clay and
Bacon would have to step down and
out. And I am not so disgusted with
Tillman for fighting in the senate
chamber. He had reason to believe
that his partner had received prom
ises, and I reckon he had. He certain
ly had great expectations, or he would
not have flopped over to the republi
cans so suddenly. Politicians have to
be paid for their votes. Tillman is a
true man, but he is not a great and
good man. I admire him for some
traits in his character. He cannot be
bribed o rintimidated. He dares to
say what he believes and he uses his
pitchfork with impunity. He is im
petuous and combative, but he is sin
cere and everybody admires a sincere
man. Sincere is one of the strongest
and best words in our language. It
literally means unsealed —without wax
—for in the olden times letters were
sealed with wav, but if it contained no
secrets it was not sealed at all, for
wax cost money. Tillman is a bold,
defiant, stubborn man, but he is not
great. A great man like Webster or
Calhoun would have said to McLaurin,
“Well, sir, if I am a liar I deserve the
epithet. If I am not, then you de
serve it, but I shall not stoop to give
it.” I wTsh we were all that great.
This thing of resenting the charge of
lying with a blow is a strange perver
sion of propriety. A man may gain
his ends y cheating, swindling, over
his ends by cheating, swindling, over
cealing the truth, but you must not
call him a liar.
He may break all the command
ments,- but don’t call him a liar,
though that is not in the Decalogue.
All that I regret about the fight is
that Spo-mer did not call Tillman a
liar and get mauled before McLaurin
came in. I want somebody to whip
Spooner. He was the teaser that
brought on the fight and was delighted
that it occurred between the two
South Carolina senators. With his
party it iS no crime to shoot down ten
thusand Filipinos, who refuse to give
up their country, but it shocks them
awfully to have a little fracas in the
senate chamber.
.Well, there are some great men and
uiere are many good men, but great
ness and goodness are rarely combin
ed. Addison says it takes both to
make a man complete. Such, for ex
ample, as Washington and Robert E.
Lee. Job says great men are not al
ways wise and he might have added
most of them are mean, selfish, heart
less and ambitious. Lord Bacon, for
instance, who took bribes while on the
bench, and Cromwell and Napoleon,
Webster was a very great man and
.long has been my ideal of greatness.
Hg was called the Godlike, but some
times his human nature overcame him.
And so with Henry Clay and Bob
Toombs. The great weakness of the
people is idolatry. Partisan or sec
tional or religious idolatry. Every man
who climbs high up where the people
can see him is either a saint or a sin
ner, according to our politics, our sec
tion, our creed. One man idolizes the
character of Lincoln, or of Grant, an
other holds both cf them in contempt.
I suppose that three fourths of the
northern people pay homage to the
memory of old John Brown for what
they call his good intentions, and ev
ery northern history and encyclopedia
apologizes for him, and even so good
a man as McKinley excused himself
for not attending the reinterment cf
his bones, on the ground that the
pressure of official duties would not
permit him to leave Washington. Most
northern men still denounce John C.
Calhoun as the author of secession
and justify Sherman in burning Co
lumbia. Here in Georgia this idolatry
is already taking shape in our silly
hurrahs ftr our candidate for gover
nor But, as usual, the loudest shout
ers have axes to grind and are diligent
ly engaged in setting traps to catch
the people. But this is the shadowy
side of polities and I won’t ruminate
any further about it.
If the ground was dry enough I
would work some in the garden and
not brood over things that will soon
pass away. I thought that spring had
>-t(,me two.seeks ago, and 1 exclaimed,
Official Organ ol Dadlo COunty
TRENTON. GA. FRIDAY. MARCH 7.1902.
"HaP, gentle' spring.” But she Clar’t
hail—she only sleeted —and they say
that old winter is lingering in her lap
the old rascal. He ought to be
ashamed of himself. My best/ relief
and comfort is to play with the grand
children. Our little girl of five has
had her little feelings hurt, and is very
indignant at what her Cousin Will
said.. She told me about it: "Grand
pa, I told Cousin Will that when he
got to be a man and I got to be a
young lady he must marry me, and
what do you think he said?” “I don’t
know. What did he say?” “Why, he
said he would see about it. "Wasn't
that mean? He ought to be glad to
marry me. If he don’t mind I will
marry my Cousin Ralph; and then I
reckon he won’t see about it. He’s
mean, ain’t h£, grantipa?” Another
little chap was saying his prayers the
other night and.prayed for God to
bless grandma and grandpa and Aunt
Mary and Cousin John and several
others, and then he said: “That't all,
Lord. Ain’t that all, papa?" “No, you
didn’t pray for your Cousin Jenny."
“No. papa, I won't pray for her; she’s
mean; I wish God would send a cow'
to butt her over.” All of our little
ones are going to school now, and feel
their consequence. I’m taking more
interest in our public school than I
ever did. Our 12-year-old, who lives
with us, is absorbed in her studies and
loves her books and her teacher, and
is proud when she gets marked per
fect or away up in the nineties. Of
course I help her with her gums every
nighb; ■’foi'’ some of them are very
hard, and sorter strain my old mind.
There are fifty three pupils in her
grade (the sixth), and yesterday forty-*
six of them had the sums done cor
rectly, and when the teacher asked
those who had no help to hold their
hands up, not a hand was held up.
They all had help. That makes forty
seven teachers for one grade, and I
am pleased to be one of them. I wish
that the school teachers of these chil
dren could realize how much influence
they have over their pupils. The
teacher can make the school life of a
pupil pleasant or miserable, and I am
glad to believe that our teachers are
kind and eonsd*tious. I have sever
al there, and I take
note ,jß#*fneir progress. The days of
old Isham are past. The old man was
stern and a rigid disciplinarian. He
wore slippers in the school room, and
sometimes would slip up behind a boy
who was making horses or dogs on his
slate and would suddenly mash the
boy’s face down on the slate and rub
the pictures out with his nose. He
used to have fights with the big boys,
and loved to maul obedience into their
rebellious souls. And there was Be
man and Judge Warner and my fath
er and William H. Seward, all yan
kees, who had to subdue the big boys,
by hard fighting, and if a teacher
couldn’t whip a boy and subdue him
he was turned off as incompetent. My
opinion is that I got most too much
whipping w'hen I was a school boy.
I still remember how John Norton was
a good teacher, and he had a hard
time with Jim Wilson and Jim Craig
and Jim Wardiaw and my brother Jim
and Jim Alexander, the
died last fall in Atlanta, and
other Jims. I never knep&jfla tmtd
named Jim who wasn’t
school. Verily there is Ajin
a name, and now Jim xjßpTthNS going
to run for governor. 2§tter not tell a
lie on him: he would jump over forty
desks to whip a man.—Bill Arp, in At
lanta Constitution.
NO NEGROES FOR FILIPINOS.
Islanders Consider Themselves Better
Than Blacks, Says Taft.
The question of sending American
negroes to the Philippines came up
while Governor Taft was discussing
the extent of labor required for devel
oping the railroads in the islands be
fore the house committee on insular
affairs Saturday. Mr. Williams, of
Mississippi, and Mr. Patterson, of
Tennessee, asked if negro labor from
this country could not be utilized on
this work. Governor Taft thought this
inexpedient, as the Filipino considered
himself superior to the negro.
ANOTHER RAISE PROBABLE.
Move to Further Advance insurance
Rates In Atlanta, Ga.
A party of agents representing all
the fire insurance companies in Xtlan
ta. left Monday for New York for the
purpose of conferring with the insur
ance companies regarding a raise of
insurance rates in Atlanta.
A recent raise of twenty-five per
cent was placed in Atlanta, and now
it is probable that the rates will be
raised again on drug stores and other
special articles that are easily dam
aged by fire.
BRYAN SUPPORTER HOOTED.
Jubilant Bedlam Breaxs Loose In Mis
sissippi Legislature.
The McAllister resolution urging a
political and business alliance between
the south and east was adopted in
the Mississippi legislature Tuesday
afternoon with practical unanimity,
and with demonstrations of great re
joicing. In fact, it seemed as if bed
lam had been turned loose in tho
house. Members slammed books,
pounded on desks, jumped on top of
them, whooped, yelled and applauded.
A leading Bryan man protested, but
was howled down. He said: "Before
this vote is taken. 1 wish to 1} t in a
parting shot for William J. Bryan ”
But he never got an opportunity to fire
the shot.
DR.TALriAGE’S SERHON
The Eminent Divine’s Sunday
Discourse.
Subject: Every Sinn linn a Mon to Fight
When Contending; Against an Evil
Habit You Stand in an Immense Circle
of Sympathy—Clouds of Witnesses.
Washington, D. C.—’ This discourse of
Dr. Talmage is full of inspiring thoughts
for those who find life a struggle, and
shows that we have many celestial sym
pathizers; texts, Hebrews xii, 1, “Seeing
we also are compassed about with so
great a cloud of witnesses;” I Corinthians
xv, 32, “I have fought with beasts at
Ephesus.”
Crossing the Alps by the Mont Cenis
pass or through the Mont Cenis tunnel,
you are in a few hours set down at Vero
na, Italy, and in a few minutes begin ex
amining one of the grandest ruins of the
world, the Amphitheatre. The whole
building sweeps around you in a circle.
You stand in the arena where the combat
was once fought or the race run, and on
all sides the seats rise, tier above tier, un
til you count forty elevations or galleries,
as 1 shall see fit to call them, in which sat
the B'enators, the kings and the 25,000 ex
cited spectators. At the sides of the arena
and under the galleries arc the mgs*' in
which the lions and tigers are kept With
out food until, frenzied with hunger and
th rst, they are let out upon some poor
victim, who, with his sword and alone, is
condemned to meet them. I think that
Paul himself once stood in such a piece,
and that it was not only figuratively, but
literally, that he had “fought \fith beasts
at Ephesus.”
The gala day has come. From all the
world the people arc pouring into Verona.
Men, women and children, orators and
Senators, great men and small, thousands
upon thousands come, until the first gal
lery is full, and the second, the third, the
fourth, the fifth—all the way up to the
twentieth, all the way up to the thirtieth,
aii the way up to the fortieth. Every place
is filled. Immensity of audience sweeping
the great circle. Silence. The time for the
contest has come. A Roman official leads
forth the victim into the arena, Let him
get his sword with firm grip into his right
hand. The 25.000 sit breathlessly watch
ing. I hear the door at the side of the
arena creak open. Out plunges the half
starved lion, his tongue athirst for blood,
and with a roar that brings all the galler
ies to their feet he rushes against the
sword of the combatant. Do you know
how strong a stroke a man will strike
when his life depends upon the first thrust
of his blade? The wild beast, lame and
bleeding, slinks back toward the side of
the arena; then rallying his wasted
strength he comes up with fiercer eye and
more terrible roar than ever, only to Vie
driven back with a fatal wound, while the
combatant comes in with stroke after
stroke until the monster is dead at his
feet, and the 25,000 clap their hands and
utter a shout that makes the city tremb’.e.
Sometimes the audience came to see a
race; sometimes to see gladiators fight each
other, until the people, compassionate for
the fallen, turned their thumbs up as an
appeal that the vanquished be spared, and
sometimes the combat was with wild
beasts.
To one of the Roman amphitheatrieal
audiences of 11)0,000 people Paul refers
when he says, “We are compassed about
with so great a cloud of witnesses.” The
direct reference in the last passage is made
to a race; but elsewhere having discussed
that, I take now Paul’s favorite idea of
the Christian life as a combat.
The fact is that every Christian man has
a lion to fight. Yours is a bad temper.
The gates of the arena have been opened,
and this tigeiis come out to destroy your
soul. It you with many a
wound. Youhave been thrown byit time
and again, but in the strength of God you
have arisen to drive it back. I verily be
lieve you will conquer. J think that the
temptation igetting weaker and weaker.
You have An it so many wounds that
the that it will die, and you
shall bethrough Christ. Courage,
not let the sands of the
blood of your soul!
YpW the passion for strong drink.
jttft contended against it for
Twenty yrjW, but it is strong o( body and
thirsty of Wngue. You have tried to fight
it back wiA broken bottle or empty wine
flask. Naß that is not the weapon. With
one hr.rrißj roar he will seize thee by the
throat aJB rend thee limb from limb.
Take thiflßeapon, sharp and keen—reach
up and it from God’s armory—the
sword o Spirit. With that thou may
est driviJjMn back and conquer!
But when every man and
woman lion to fight? If there be one
here wnCwis no besetting sin, let him
speak o ,i3jpr him have I offended. If
you hav^^^ fought the lion, it is because
you lion eat you up. This
very mriSrentT./ie contest goes on.
The rijTrajan celebration, where 10,000
gladiaßrs fought and 11,000 wild beasts
were..Bain, was not so terrific a struggle as
thaßjwhieh at this moment goes on in many
a sfol. The combat was for the life of the
body; this is for the life of the soul. That
with wild l easts from the jungle; this
is with the roaring lion of hell.
Men think, when they contend against
an evil habit, that they have to fight it all
alone. No! They stand in the centre of
an immense circle of sympathy. Paul had
been reciting the names of Abel, Enoch,
Noah, Abraham, Sarah. Isaac, Joseph,
Gideon and Barak and then says, “Being
compassed about with so great a cloud of
witnesses.”
Before I get through I will show you
that you fight in an arena, around which
circle, in galleries above each other, all
the kindling eyes ar.d all the sympathetic
hearts of the ages, end at every victory
gained there comes dow* the thundering
applause of a great multitude that no man
can number. “Being compassed about
with po great a cloud of witnesses.”
On the first elevation of the ancient am
phitheatre, on the day of a celebration,
sat Tiberius or Augustus or the reigning
king. So in the great arena of spectators
that watch our struggles and in the first
divine gallery, as I shall rail it, sits our
King, one Jesus. On His head are many
crowns. The Roman emperor got his
place by cold blooded conquests, but our
King hath come to llis place by the bro
ken hearts healed and the tears wiped
away and the souls redeemed. The Ro
man emperor sat, with folded arms, indif
ferent as to whether the swordsman or
the lion beat, but our King’s sympathies
are ail with us—nay, unheard of conde
scension! I see Him come down from
the gallery into the arena to help us in the j
fight, shouting until all up and down His
voice is heard: “Fear not! I will help J
thee! I will strengthen thee by the right
hand of My power!”
They gave to the men in the arena in
the olden time food to thicken their blood,
so that it would flow slowly and that for a
longer time the people might gioat, over the
scene. But our King has no pleasure in
our wounds, for we are bone of His bone,
flesh of His flesh, blood of His blood.
In all the anguish of our heart
The Man of Sorrows bore a part.
Once in the ancient amphitheatre a lion
with one paw caught the combatant's
sword and with his other paw caught his
shield. The man took his knife from his
girdle and slew the beast. The king, sit
ting .in the gallery, said: “That Was not
fair. The lion must be slain by a sword.”
Other lions we-e tufned out, and the poor
victim fell. Y’ou cry, “Shame-! shame!” at
such meanness. But the King in this ease
, is our brother, and He will see that we
have lair play, He wiil forbid the rushing
1 out of more lions than we ran meet. He
will not suffer u? to be tempted above that
j we are able. Thank God! The King is iu
‘ the gallery! His eyes are on us. His heart
| is with us. His hand will deliver us.
“Blessed are they who put their trust in
Him.”
I look again and I see the gallery of tho
martyrs. Who is that? Hugh Latimer,
sure enough! He would not apologize for
the truth he preached, and so he died, the
| night before swinging from the bedpost in
perfect glee at the thought of emancipa
i tidn. Who is that army of 6666? They are
the Thebarl legion who died for the faith.
; Here is a larger host in magnificent array,
884,000, who perished lor Christ in the
persecutions of Diocletian. Yonder is a
family group, Felieitas, of Rome, fltld 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 a reck; another was
beheaded. At last, the mother became a
martyr, There they are together, a family
group in heaven! Yonder is John Brad
ford, who said in the fire, “We shall have
a merry supper with the Lord to-night!”
Yonder is Henry Voes, who exclaimed as
he died, “If I had ten heads, they should
all fall off 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 red
hot pincers; they were sewed up in the
skins of animals and then thrown to the
dogs; they Ivors 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 ail the world over bright as 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
rannot 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 arena!”
What? Are they all looking? This hour
we answer back the salutation they give
and cry, “Hail, son3 and daughters of the
lire!”
1 look again and I see another gallery—
that of eminent Christians. What strikes
me otrangely 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! Yonder arc 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 Iflvingiy to
gether? There are George Whifeficld and
the ministers who would not let him come
into their pulpits because they thought
him a fanatic. There are the sweet sing
ers Topladv, 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 Abcel, talking of China redeemed:
and John Scudffer. of India saved; and
David Brainerd, of the aborigines evan
gelized; and Mrs. Adouiram Judson,
whose prayers for 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
I’.eaLL They sweltered in tropics. Do we
get They fainted, with none to
care for them but cannibals. Are we per
secuted? They were anathematized. And
as they look from their gallery and see us
falter in the presence of the lions 1 seem
to hear Isaac Watts addressing us iu hi*
old hymn, only a 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?
Top.ady shouts in his old hymn:
Your harps, ye trembling saints,
Down from the willows take;
Loud to tlie praise of love divine
Bid every string awake.
While Charles Wesley, the Methodist,
bleaks forth in words a little varied:,
A charge to keep you have,
A God to glorify,
A never dying soul to save
And fit it for the sky!
T look again and I 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 tight for heaven.
Nay, I 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, “Ccme 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 a crown!”
But here I 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? Mvriads of eyes beaming on us!
Myriads of hearts beating in sympathy fer
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
rified kindred for us—shall we give up the
tight and die? No, Son of (sod, who didst
die to save us! No, ye angels, whose wings
are spread forth to shelter us! No, ye
prophets and apostles, whose warnings
startle us! No, ye loved ones, whose arms
ere outstretched to receive us! No; we
will never surrender!
Sure T must fight if I would reign,
Be faithful to my Lora,
A n d bear the cross, endure the pain,
Supported by Thy word.
Thv 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 illustrious 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 off more'than
conquerors. A soldier dying In the hospi
tal rose up in bed the last moment and
cried. “Here, here!” His attendants put
him back on Ms pillow and asked him why
he shouted “Here!” “Oh, I heard the roll
call of heaven, and I was only answering
to my name!” I wonder whether after
this battle of this life is over our names
Will be .called in-the muster roll of the
pardoned and glorified and, with the joy of
heaven breaking upon our souls, shall cry,
“Here, here!”
v _ [Copyright* \9Q\ t, HsbssJlJ
SI.OO a Year.
NO. 42.
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