_Songs in the Night_
The quality of our faith is made known in times of stress and storm,
when appearances are anything but favorable and the outlook is bleak and
barren. Just as the courage of the soldier is shown in the thick of the
battle rather than at the camp fires, so the fortitude of the Christian
is exhibited in the strife and strain of untoward circumstances. These
may be caused by some calamity such as sickness or death or some serious
loss. The pessimist sees only darkness and danger and is ready to let
go. The optimist sees only brightness and security but is nonplused
before mishaps. They are both one-sided and superficial because they
reckon with a limited set of facts. The meliorist, on the other hand, is
convinced that, because his faith is fixed trusting in God, he can
weather the tempest and survive the severe ordeal.
It has been said that many hymns are weakened by excessive
sentimentalism. This criticism carries the point too far and overlooks
the fact that in the final analysis we are influenced far more by the
monitions of the heart than by the admonitions of the head. What Dr.
Joseph Collins calls "adult infantilism" is due, according to this keen
analyst, to our failure to educate and regulate our emotions. To be
sure, there is such a thing as frothy emotionalism, but when we go to
the other extreme and pretend we are living in an ice pack it is often
due to the inferiority complex. Better a sentimentalism which stirs our
emotions than a rationalism which suppresses them.
The answer to this inept criticism is given in the following incidents.
They illustrate how men and women have expressed the buoyancy of
religion in the darkness of peril, accident, sorrow, suffering and other
trials. It was their faith which made use of hymns to carry on until the
day dawned.
Here is an incident from a memorable tragedy which tells how one
Played a Hymn on the Deck of a Sinking Boat
"Wallace H. Hartley
Died April 15, 1912
'Nearer, my God, to Thee'"
Such was the simple inscription on the rosewood coffin of one of the
heroic figures of the musical realm, whose name was carried all over the
world when the _Titanic_ was sunk. As the boats were hurrying away from
the wreck the marine band continued to play until their instruments were
choked by the swirling water that closed about the musicians and sent
them to heroes' graves. Of the eight bandsmen six were Englishmen, one a
German and one a Frenchman.
Their leader was Mr. Wallace H. Hartley. One who had been with him on
twenty-two voyages on the _Mauretania_ states that he once casually
asked him what he would do if he were on a boat which was wrecked. He
promptly replied that he would play "Nearer, my God, to Thee." And this
was the hymn he led the bandsmen in playing after they had long been
rendering popular tunes, when he had to make a last selection before the
great ship made her final plunge.
Among the 815 passengers and 688 crew who were drowned was W. T. Stead,
editor of _The Review of Reviews_. A few years previous he had published
"_Hymns That Have Helped_." In this list of the best hundred hymns,
"Nearer, my God, to Thee" stands seventh. The Prince of Wales, later
King Edward VII, sent a letter to the editor in which he expressed a
preference for this hymn and said, "There is none more touching nor one
that goes more truly to the heart than No. 7 on your list." Mr. Stead
made the terse comment, "The hymn is as dear to the peasant as it is to
the prince."
Mr. E. J. Elliott, president of the local musicians' union at
Louisville, at the time of the disaster said there is a standing rule in
the national organization requiring bands attending funerals of dead
members to conclude the rites with this tune. "That is the last thing we
play at the grave of a musician--'Nearer, my God, to Thee.' I believe
that, knowing they were doomed as the result of their own heroism, the
members of the ship's orchestra thus commended their own souls to their
God, giving expression to their petition in the notes of their
instruments."
What a fitting expression for souls about to wing their way into
eternity!
Equally impressive is this incident when
Rescuers Steered in the Direction Of the Singer
When the English steamer _Stella_ was wrecked on the Casquet rocks
twelve women were put into a boat which the waves whirled away, leaving
them helpless without even an oar. They passed a terrific night not
knowing what awaited them. Wet and cold they would have perished but for
the courage of one of them, Miss Marguerite Williams, who was a
contralto singer.
There was no thought of ruining her voice at such a crisis, and through
the night she sang parts from "The Messiah" and "Elijah" and also hymns.
This cheered the desolate women. About four o'clock in the morning a
lifeboat which was sent out to save any surviving victims came to a
pause in the waters as the men heard a woman's voice singing in the
distance. The words, "Oh! rest in the Lord," were carried to them by the
wind and they promptly steered in their direction. Before long they
sighted the boat with the twelve women who were taken aboard the steam
launch.
The singing of Miss Williams not only braced up her companions and
herself but led to their rescue.
Dr. W. T. Grenfell recounts a rescue under similar circumstances in his
book[4] entitled
"Adrift on an Ice-Pan"
He had returned home on Easter Sunday after the service when he received
an urgent call to go sixty miles to help a young man on whom he had
previously operated. Crossing the ice the next day, as it was breaking
up, he found that he was on a piece which was drifting into the open
Atlantic. Three of his dogs were killed, and from their bones he made a
flagpole; while their coats were used to keep him warm during the night.
All night long he drifted, but was rescued in the morning, although
there seemed little probability that he would be. Through the night,
expecting death at any moment, there ran through his mind the words of
an old hymn which came back to him from his boyhood days:
"My God, my Father, while I stray
Far from my home, on life's rough way,
O teach me from my heart to say,
Thy will be done!"
Referring to this rescue, Dr. Grenfell said: "As I went to sleep that
first night there still rang in my ears the same verse of the old hymn
which had been my companion on the ice, 'Thy will, not mine, O Lord.'"
There is much significance in a ceremony associated with
Dedicating a Lifeboat
Five hundred lives had been saved by a lifeboat service at the Scilly
Islands just off the coast of Cornwall, England, between 1828 and 1930.
These islands are near the main lines of Atlantic travel.
A new lifeboat costing $42,500 was dedicated in August, 1930. It was
named the _Cunard_ in honor of the donors, the Cunard Steamship Company.
This boat is fitted with twin screws and two engines, each of forty
horsepower, which could work even though the engine room were filled
with water. She has water-tight compartments, generates her own
electricity and is manned by a crew of eight men.
Two prayers were offered by ministers, and two hymns were sung. Led by
the local band, the assembled company, who fully realized the perils of
the great waters, joined in singing:
"Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidds't the mighty ocean deep,
Its own appointed limits keep;
O hear us when we cry to Thee
For those in peril on the sea.
"O Christ, whose voice the waters heard
And hushed their raging at Thy word,
Who walkedst on the foaming deep,
And calm amid the storm didst sleep;
O hear us when we cry to Thee
For those in peril on the sea."
Equally appropriate was the second hymn rendered:
"O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home!"
The confidence of such faith is illustrated in
What Led to "He Leadeth Me"
The birthplace of this world-renowned hymn was marked in Philadelphia by
a tablet containing the first stanza and the following inscription:
"'He Leadeth Me,' sung throughout the world, was written by the Rev.
Dr. Joseph H. Gilmore, a son of a Governor of New Hampshire, in the
home of Deacon Wattson, immediately after preaching in the First
Baptist Church, northwest corner Broad and Arch Streets, on the 26th
day of March, 1862. The church and Deacon Wattson's house stood on the
ground on which this building is erected.
"The United Gas Improvement Company, in recognition of the beauty and
fame of the hymn, and in remembrance of its distinguished author,
makes this permanent record on the first day of June, 1926."
The subject of the sermon was the Twenty-third Psalm, especially the
words "He leadeth me." After the service a few met with the minister and
rehearsed the impression, emphasizing the timeliness of the sermon,
since this was the darkest hour of the War of Rebellion. "Then and
there," wrote Dr. Gilmore, "on a blank page of the brief from which I
had intended to speak, I penciled the hymn, handed it to my wife, and
thought no more about it."
It was later published in a Boston paper, which attracted the attention
of William B. Bradbury, who set the hymn to music. Since then it has
gone on its mission, translated into several languages and sung by
people of different churches. Bishop Paddock had it included in the
revised hymnal of the Protestant Episcopal Church, saying "how could I
conduct a service in a home for the aged if I couldn't give out 'He
Leadeth Me'?"
This hymn was once sung in a Chinese court of justice by a native who
had never seen a white missionary, to show the presiding judge what a
Christian hymn was like. The man was being tried for renting a building
to some Christians who had opened an opium refuge. When he told the
justice that at their meetings the Christians prayed and sang hymns, he
was asked for a specimen and sang "He Leadeth Me."
How a crisis was averted is seen when
A German Girl Led in Singing "A Mighty Fortress"
A few years ago there was a fearful accident at the coal mines near
Scranton, Pennsylvania. Several men were buried for three days and all
hopes of their rescue seemed to be futile. Most of the miners in this
region were Germans. Their excitement was intensified by sympathy for
the wives and children of the buried men and their failure to rescue
them.
On the third day at evening, a mob assembled at the mouth of the mine in
a sullen temper because it was hopeless to dig further since the men
were probably dead by this time, and in their mad rage they blamed the
rich mine owners for the tragedy. They were ready for any violence if
only some reckless word was spoken.
The atmosphere was tense but it was suddenly changed when a little
German girl, about eleven years of age, pale with fear, lifted her voice
in song. She began in a hoarse whisper but her childish voice gathered
strength as she went on with the first verse of Luther's hymn, "A Mighty
Fortress Is Our God."
There was silence as these lines fell on the ears of the Germans,
familiar with them from the cradle. Others joined and before long the
whole company were singing:
"Did we in our own strength confide,
Our striving would be losing;
Were not the right Man on our side,
The Man of God's own choosing.
Doth ask who that may be?
Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth is His name,
From age to age the same,
And He must win the battle."
The tide was turned and, encouraged, they resumed their work and kept at
it. Before morning the joyful news came up from the pit that the men
were found and that they were alive. What a word in season was this
girl's hymn!
Here is a touching story about
What a Blind Soldier Wanted to Hear
When a Salvation Army officer was conducting a song service in the wards
of the hospital at Bazeilles, France, where there were many wounded
American soldiers during the World War, a blind lad asked them to sing
something for him. The choice was appropriate and pathetic as he
expressed a desire to hear the old hymn:
"Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on!"
One can easily imagine that the words prayerfully expressed the deepest
desire of his soul.
The theme of this chapter is impressively brought home concerning a girl
who was
Blind and Lonely, But Still Singing
She had just entered her 'teens when she was stricken with tuberculosis.
Sent to the Adirondacks, she did not recover. Later she went to the home
of her grandparents, and there she died. She was a member of the Sunday
School in the church of which I was then pastor. She had a sweet, clear
voice, and on special occasions she was generally on the program for a
solo.
When called to conduct the funeral, her relatives told me that the night
before she died she became blind. Unable to see, she three times called,
"Papa, Papa, Papa!" But her father was not present to respond to her
call.
Not long afterwards she broke into song. Those watching with her were
deeply moved as she began:
"Be not dismayed whate'er betide,
God will take care of you;
Beneath His wings of love abide,
God will take care of you."[5]
She sang the entire hymn, even to the last verse:
"No matter what may be the test,
God will take care of you;
Lean, weary one, upon His breast,
God will take care of you.
God will take care of you,
Thro' ev'ry day, o'er all the way;
He will take care of you,
God will take care of you."
When the morning came, God took her into the heavenly home, and she had
passed from darkness and pain to light and joy.
How a night of sorrow ended is seen when a man was
Transfigured by Matheson's Hymn
Dr. George Matheson, the blind preacher of Edinburgh, is best remembered
by his hymn, "O Love, that wilt not let me go," written when forty years
of age. "It is the quickest composition I ever achieved," wrote the
author. "It was done in three minutes. I was sitting alone in my study
in a state of great mental depression, caused by a real calamity. My
hymn was the voice of my depression. It was wrung out spontaneously from
the heart." A close friend of Matheson testified that the distinctive
ideals of this hymn "possessed him all his life." Many thousands of
people have been stirred and comforted by its gracious message.
A missionary from India attended a service in Algiers, Africa, where
about sixty people were present, mostly tourists. After the sermon this
hymn was announced, and as the minister was reading the first verse a
man of perhaps fifty was seen to change seats with the lady organist.
Suddenly the keys were touched and the little American organ seemed to
take on new life. Surely a master was at the keys. He played and sang
and carried the congregation to heavenly heights of rapture. The deep
emotion of the organist, his face stained with tears, passed to the
audience and the climax was reached when the last verse was sung:
"O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life's glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be."
After the service several went forward to thank the organist. He
received them with a quiet smile and quickly left the church. It was
discovered later that he was a distinguished British singer. Two years
previous to this incident, his wife lay dying. She was an American lady
of great musical ability. She asked him to sing this hymn as she was
passing into the shadow of death. And this was the first time he had
ventured to sing it again since that trying day. No wonder his soul
spoke from the depths, as through this hymn he was passing from the
Darkness of sorrow to the Light which followed all his way, like many
another pilgrim on the journey of trial and travail.
The secret of strength in weakness is given in this confession of faith:
"Through Cheerful Years My Guide"
Consecrated and cultured, a young man began his work in the ministry of
Jesus Christ in the latter part of the nineteenth century. Unsparing of
himself, he labored with intense earnestness. Popularity was soon
achieved, and he was placed in responsible centers of influence. Success
came to him in each successive field of activity.
Faith and character had to meet severe tests. While in the very prime of
life, health failed. Operation after operation was performed, but
without avail. Courageously he met the situation, and though unable to
do much public work, he continued to cultivate his brilliant mind.
Over and over again during those last days of weakness and suffering he
quoted the hymn of Dr. Frank Mason North, which had grown to be his
favorite among the many hymns he knew. He (the Rev. Charles L. Peck)
told the writer he believed the hymn was destined to become increasingly
popular. It was sung at his funeral.
"Jesus, the calm that fills my breast,
No other heart than Thine can give;
This peace unstirred, this joy of rest,
None but Thy loved ones can receive.
. . . . . . . . .
O Christ, through changeful years my Guide,
My Comforter in sorrow's night,
My Friend when friendless--still abide,
My Lord, my Counselor, my Light.
My times, my powers, I give to Thee;
My inmost soul 'tis Thine to move;
I wait for Thy eternity,
I wait, in peace, in praise, in love."[6]
The Christian heroism of another young man is described in what might be
called
"Through Every Day" for A Thousand Days
He was in training to be a physician when he was stricken with a deadly
disease. He then resolved to face the situation manfully. Dr. Merton S.
Rice thus refers to this case:
"He immediately adopted every precaution in what he knew must be a long,
long contest, if he should live. Day after day, for weeks, months and
years, that indomitable young soul fought that fight with death. Every
day he held scientific record of his life for one thousand and fifteen
days. He has charted on an unbroken chart the full record of his heart
and his temperature, and in eleven volumes of carefully listed
observations of life pursued by death he has left us this great story.
Through it all, and down to the very last breath of it all he has sung,
and then asked us to sing when he was gone:
"'Through every day,
O'er all the way,
God will take care of you.'"
Here is what a veteran confessed at a time when he
"Sank in Blissful Dreams Away"
"I am now in my seventy-third year, and just completing the fiftieth
year of my ministry," said the Rev. T. Ferrier Hulme, D.D., fraternal
delegate from the Wesleyan Methodist Church of England to the General
Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church in Kansas City, May, 1928.
In closing his address he said:
"May I give you my experience? I have known Jesus for many years. I have
been preaching for fifty years. Twelve years ago it seemed as if my work
was done. I was laid low by a terrible illness, and had to undergo a
major operation that might well have been fatal. My life was in the
balance. I said: 'Charles Wesley, What have you for me? Give me
something short and sweet.' And he gave me:
'Jesus, the first and last,
On whom my soul is cast;
Thou didst Thy work begin
In blotting out my sin;
Thou wilt the root remove,
And perfect me in love.
Yet when the work is done,
The work is but begun;
Partaker of Thy grace
I long to see Thy face;
The first I prove below,
The last I die to know.'
"I repeated it to the last line, and then sank in blissful dreams away.
When I came out from that nursing home, before I could walk, I just
crawled to Charles Wesley's grave near this home and gave God thanks for
all that Charles Wesley had been to Christendom, and especially for what
he had been to me."
The following letter, quoted in part, from a woman who underwent an
operation tells of the influence of
Hymns in Hospital
"I am sending you my testimony for the prayer meeting. First I want you
to thank God with me and for me that all is well. Then ask God to bless
each and every nurse up here because they certainly are a splendid lot.
They hold chapel here every morning. The day I was operated they sang,
'I need thee every hour.' I felt they were just singing that for me.
"I was terribly frightened when I lay on the table but I prayed that God
would be near me. I certainly felt His presence. I could not see Him,
neither could I see the two doctors in the operating room but I knew
they were there just the same. Do you wonder that the first words I said
after the operation were, 'O Light that followest all my way'?
"It surely means something to have a Friend who can go with you down
even to the valley of the shadow of death. The next morning was the
worst yet and they sang:
'Leave, ah! leave me not alone,
Still support and comfort me.'
"What do you think of that? Why, if I had been the only one in the
hospital they could not have sung anything better for me.
"Just across the way from me there lies a lady very ill, and the other
night while I was awake, I heard her singing, soft and sweet and
trembling,
'Or if my way lie
Where death o'erhanging nigh,
My soul doth terrify
With sudden chill.'
And then her voice came out strong:
'Yet I am not afraid:
Whilst softly on my head
Thy tender hand is laid,
I fear no ill.'"
Here is another testimony when
Patients Listened to "Precious Name"
Early one morning in a city hospital, above the distracting noise, there
was heard the sweet voice of a woman repeatedly singing the refrain:
"Precious Name, O how sweet!
Hope of earth and joy of heaven."
No silver bell ever sounded more clearly and no appeal was more winsome
than these lines as they were heard by the sick and dying. It is not
known whether she herself was a sufferer. In any case her message wafted
through the air came with cheering timeliness to the men and women on
their beds of sickness. One who heard it then has not forgotten its
effect after fifteen years, and it will be a choice memory for years to
come.
The reference to the bell recalls an incident when
Church Bells Reminded Her Of an Old Hymn
An aged saint who dwelt beneath the shadow of her church was lying in a
last sickness and it occurred to her pastor that the peals, breaking the
stillness of the night, might disturb her. On being told about it, she
said:
"Not at all, I love to hear them. It's the kirk bell; and whenever I
hear it, it makes me think of the hymns we used to sing:
'Far, far away, like bells at evening pealing,
The voice of Jesus sounds o'er land and sea.'"
She then added, "It's His voice, and it's sic a comfort to me. I aye
weary to hear it."