Hymns in Human Experience

CHAPTER II
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:

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:

Equally appropriate was the second hymn rendered:

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:

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:

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:

She sang the entire hymn, even to the last verse:

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:

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.

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:

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:

“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:

“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,

And then her voice came out strong:

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:

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:

She then added, “It’s His voice, and it’s sic a comfort to me. I aye weary to hear it.”

CHAPTER III
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 same theme is continued in another poem by Maud Frazer Jackson in The Sunday School Times, entitled,

“My Mother’s Song”

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.

“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:

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:

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:

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,

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,

“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: