_Hymns Mothers Loved_
It may be disputed whether religion is an inheritance or an acquisition
but the fact remains that the influence of personality is the final
explanation. And who has exercised such a power more beneficially than
mothers? They constitute the heart of every home, the first and the last
in everything. Whoever may fail us in the tumult and struggle of life,
our mothers have never gone back on us but have remained steadfast even
at the cost of incredible sacrifices. Indeed, mothers hold the key to
every difficult situation in life, and they have opened doors closed to
every other approach. During the World War most of the letters from the
Front were written by the boys to their mothers, and this daily mail ran
far into the tons.
By their faith, devotion and consolation our mothers have done for us
what no other mortals have ever been capable of doing. Even when we are
inclined to make an exception of our wives, it is really the mother
instinct in them which makes them so indispensable to us. Quick in
sympathy, ready in resource, patient in trials, versatile in ability and
adaptability, mothers stand sentinel in the crises of life, and because
of intuition and inspiration they are the saviors of society.
God be praised for our mothers, and may the blessing of the Eternal
Father abide with all mothers, that they may continue to fulfill their
gracious ministry for the highest welfare of mankind. This sheaf of
testimonies bears glowing witness from grateful hearts to the
sacramental virtue of mothers. May their memory be forever blessed!
The Bible and the hymnal were the two books from which our mothers
received their spiritual replenishment. This poem by the Rev. G. H.
Winkworth tells of the hymnal which he fittingly describes as
The Old Brown Book
"The old brown book was worn and finger-stained.
To touch it gently children's hands were trained.
It had within the hymns that mother sang
In peaceful worship after church bells rang.
I hear her voice again so sweet and clear,
According praise to Christ her Saviour dear.
The old brown book had words that blessed her soul;
She sang them, 'While the nearer waters roll.'
'Tis years since mother gently passed to rest,
And hands were gently folded on her breast,
She sleeps, but in our ears the old hymns ring--
The sweet old hymns that mother used to sing.
The years are passing onward one by one,
And with them changes to the church have come;
The old brown book no longer fills its place;
We struggle now to sing new hymns of grace.
But when the Sabbath evening takes us home,
And we are gathered there with friends alone,
We take the old brown book and once more sing,
'Hide thou beneath the shadow of Thy wing.'
And who can tell but what in heaven above
They sing again the old sweet hymns we love?
We only know that when we sing them here
They bring to us the Heavenly Presence near.
Thus we can fight life's battle calm and sweet,
Each unborn day with courage wait to meet,
'Blest be the tie that binds,' we smooth the way,
'Nearer my God to Thee' each closing day.
The old brown book a treasure still we keep,
The same old hymns that rocked our friends to sleep;
And if we fail to catch the newest strain,
Our hearts would sing the old hymns once again."[7]
The same theme is continued in another poem by Maud Frazer Jackson in
_The Sunday School Times_, entitled,
"My Mother's Song"
"I heard a song that touched my heart
And filled my eyes with tears.
It was the song my mother sang
In long-departed years,--
'Only trust Him, only trust Him,
Only trust Him now;
He will save you, He will save you,
He will save you now.'
How sweet the words that gave me hope
That I might be restored,--
'Come, every soul by sin oppressed,
There's mercy with the Lord.'
I seemed to hear her gentle voice
As in the long ago,--
'Plunge now into the crimson flood
That washes white as snow.'
She knows tonight, my mother knows,
Up there, her prayers are heard;
For Jesus gives the wanderer rest,
I'm 'trusting in His Word.'"
Dr. W. J. Dawson, in his reminiscences entitled _The Autobiography of a
Mind_,[8] thus refers to
The Note of Assurance in the Old Hymns
"I came the other day upon a Methodist hymnal bearing the date of 1877,
and in it I found the hymns which my mother loved to quote, and I was
struck with their depth of emotion, their genuine spiritual quality.
They have a note of profound assurance which I miss in the modern hymns.
'Leader of faithful souls, and guide
Of all who travel to the sky,
Come and with us, even us, abide
Who would on Thee alone rely.
On Thee alone our spirits stay
While held in life's uneven way.'
"How fine is the crusading note in this verse! Particularly noble in
sentiment and emotion are the numerous hymns dealing with death and the
future state. Here is one which I confess I read with tears:
'Rejoice for a brother deceased,
Our loss is his infinite gain;
A soul out of prison released,
And freed from its bodily chain.
With songs let us follow his flight
And mount with his spirit above,
Escaped to the mansions of light,
And lodged in the Eden of love.'
One can fancy this hymn sung by Cornish fishermen over one of their
numbers lost at sea."
The sacred memories of the past may slumber for a while but they are
often awakened under favorable conditions, as seen on this occasion, as
reported in _The British Weekly_, when
Canadian Railroad Men Sang In Memory of Mother
A student of Manitoba University, Winnipeg, accepted camp service for
the long vacation in connection with the building of the last
transcontinental railroad in Canada. He became one of the men and soon
made friends with them. After the midday meal on the first Sunday he
asked "the boys" if they would "roll up" to the service he proposed to
hold? The tent was crowded. He started the service by asking if any of
them remembered their mother's favorite hymn. He was answered at once by
one who said his mother liked best "Rock of Ages, Cleft For Me." So it
was sung, and, like other "mothers' favorites," it was sung over and
over again. The service continued till eleven o'clock and under that
star-lit northern sky they left the tent for their bunks, resolving that
the God of the old home should be their God. By many a bunk that night
the prayer went to heaven:
"Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee."
The result was equally beneficial in another instance when John Callahan
Heard Mother's Hymn in a Mission
He was long superintendent of Hadley Mission in New York City, and known
as "the Bishop of the Bowery." He said, "It was 'Abide With Me' that I
heard in a mission, and that I had not heard since it was sung when I
was six years old at my mother's funeral, that brought me to my senses
and made me realize that I was not traveling on the right road."
The same effect was produced at the front when fond memories made
Voices Husky With Emotion
The message of the Gospel took on a reality it had never worn before as
the story of the Cross was recounted by the Salvationists to the
American soldiers in France. The thunder of artillery was heard; and the
flashing of signal lights, together with the hum of the airplanes,
vivified the whole background of war. After an address on the God of
their mothers a young woman began to sing:
"I grieved my Lord from day to day,
I scorned His love so full and free,
And though I wandered far away,
My mother's prayers have followed me.
I'm coming home, I'm coming home,
To live my wasted life anew,
For mother's prayers have followed me,
Have followed me the whole world through."
Many hearts echoed the words; and the voices of the men were husky with
emotion when they tried to join in the closing hymn.
A different testimony is given where one
Wanted to Hear the Hymns That Mother Loved Best
Countess Somers, the mother of Lady Henry Somerset, presented Frances E.
Willard with a music-box. This may still be seen in Rest Cottage,
Evanston, Illinois. The little guide-book, _Historic Rest Cottage_,
says:
"When this music-box was to be made, Miss Willard was asked what music
she would most enjoy and she instantly replied: 'The hymns that mother
loved best.' So the visitor hears, 'How firm a foundation'; 'Nearer, my
God, to Thee'; 'While the days are going by'; 'There is a land of pure
delight'; 'Home, sweet home' and 'In heavenly love abiding.'"
Concerning this first hymn the following incident tells how Miss Frances
Willard's mother
Saluted Her Favorite Hymn
"There was the gay summer 'garden party' at Rest Cottage (Evanston,
Illinois) in honor of Anna Gordon's birthday with Miss Willard as master
of ceremonies, when speeches and presentation of gifts, poems and
tributes, were in order. And at the close all united in singing 'How
firm a foundation,' as the aged saint, Miss Willard's venerable mother,
then in her closing eighty-eighth year, rose on the upper balcony, where
she sat enjoying the bright scene in the garden, to wave her
handkerchief in salutation at the words of her favorite hymn,
'And when hoary hairs shall their temples adorn,
Like lambs they shall still in My bosom be borne.'"
The substantial faith of mothers is illustrated in the case of one who
Sang the Nicene Creed
The sixth child in a family of eight, Joseph Von Wittig was born in a
one-room cottage. He tells us how his mother used to sing before her
marriage in the choir of the village church. "What did you like best to
sing, mother?" he once asked her, and she answered, "The Creed." He
remembered a day when she was busy with field-work, and he heard her
clear voice rising in the closing words of the Nicene Creed, _et vitam
venturi sæculi_, "and the life of the world to come."
The foretaste of the life to come has been enjoyed in the present life,
to judge from these words by Bishop Adna W. Leonard, in his book,
_Evangelism in the Remaking of the World_,[9] concerning his mother's
Singing While Sleeping
"My own dear mother as she lay upon her dying bed, after many years of
the severest suffering and invalidhood, fell into a very sound sleep. It
was only a night or two before her outgoing. My father was keeping his
faithful vigil, when suddenly he heard a familiar voice singing,
'O Thou, in whose presence my soul takes delight,
On whom in affliction I call,
My comfort by day, and my song in the night,
My hope, my salvation, my all!'
"It was my mother's voice singing in a marvelously clear tone the hymn
that had been a favorite with her all her life. Though asleep she sang
every verse clear through to the end. Other members of the family were
awakened by it and listened in breathless silence, for it was like the
song of an angel. She did not waken for some time after she had ceased
singing, and when told of what had taken place she was not surprised,
for the hymns of the church had been such a comfort to her throughout
her entire life."
Another witness is Dr. Oscar L. Joseph who on every Mother's Day has his
congregation sing
"Peace, Perfect Peace"
Beyond all other hymns, his mother loved this one written by Bishop
Edward H. Bickersteth. She often sang it in the family circle. No burden
or distraction could interfere with the "perfect peace" which Christ
imparted to her soul. Hence, when she died, it was the message she
wished to have set over her resting place. So on her tombstone in Ceylon
may be found the three words:
"Peace, Perfect Peace."
When the members of the congregation hear this bit of family history
from the lips of their pastor, they most feelingly sing at his request:
"Peace, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin?
The blood of Jesus whispers peace within.
Peace, perfect peace, by thronging duties pressed?
To do the will of Jesus,--this is rest.
. . . . . . . . .
Peace, perfect peace, our future all unknown?
Jesus, we know, and He is on the throne.
. . . . . . . . .
It is enough: earth's struggles soon shall cease,
And Jesus call us to heaven's perfect peace."
The sacrificial loyalty to Christ is seen when
A Mother Answered with a Hymn
A missionary secretary of one of the Methodist churches in England once
went to see a mother whose only remaining son had offered himself for
foreign mission service. Two other sons had gone to the same country and
there they had laid down their lives in the service of Christ and the
natives. The secretary sympathetically referred to this pathetic fact,
and wished to ascertain from the mother whether the last of her boys was
to go with her full consent.
The mother grasped the trend of the visitor's conversation, and, without
waiting for the secretary to put the direct question, she very quietly
repeated the lines she so often sang in church, which conveyed her
spirit of surrender:
"Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all."
There was no need for further questioning. The secretary said in my
hearing, "I knelt with that mother and her boy and we had a tearful but
beautiful season of prayer."
It is not surprising that in the soldiers' hours of danger, according to
_The War Romance of the Salvation Army_, by Booth and Hill,[10]
Mother Held Her Place in Their Hearts
The night of the St. Mihiel drive was the blackest night ever seen. It
was so dark that one could positively see nothing a foot ahead of him.
All that was heard was the sound of thousands of feet tramping, through
the mud and slush, as the soldiers went to the front. In groups they
were singing softly as they went by. One group was singing "Mother
Machree."
"There's a spot in me heart that no colleen may own,
There's a depth in me soul never sounded or known;
There's a place in me memory, me life, that you fill,
No other can take it, no one ever will;
Sure, I love the dear silver that shines in your hair,
And the brow that's all furrowed and wrinkled with care.
I kiss the dear fingers, so toil-worn for me;
O, God bless you and keep you!
Mother Machree!"
The simple pathos of the men's voices, many of whom were tramping
forward to their death, brought tears to the eyes of the Salvation Army
lassies in the canteen.
After an interval, sweetly and solemnly through the chill of the
darkness there came floating by, with a thrill in the words, another
group of voices:
"Abide with me! Fast falls the eventide,
The darkness deepens--Lord, with me abide!"