Preble County Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1857-1859, 1858-04-15
THEY EMBRACE
"OId Hundred.,,


In = rustic church opposite, while we
write, a company of worshippers are
singing the old hymn "Be thou, o God,
exalted high" The air is also old, the
immortal "Old Hundred"
IF it be true that Luther composed
that tune, and if worship of mortals is
carried on the wings ofangels to heaven,
how often has he heard the declaration.
"They are singing odd Hundred, now"
The solemn strain carries US back to
the times of the reformers-Luther and
his devoted band. He doubtless, was
the first to strike the grand old chorus
in-the publis sanctuary of his own Ger
many. ,
From his stentorian lungs they roll4,l,
vibrating, not through vaulted cathedral
roof, but along a grander arch, the eter-
nal heavens. He wrought into each
note his own sublime faith, and stamped
it with that. faiths Immortality. Hence
it cannot diel Neither men nor angels
will let it pass into oblivion.
The blue-eyel girls of the old "fader-
land sang those same strains with all
the enthusiasm of a new and holier re-
ligion. They had been bound down to
priests, prayer-book and rosary. They
had raised adoring eyes to the suspen-
ded image of the Virgin, and been I'M
blushingly before the carved resemb-
lance of Christ. They had knelt at the
dark confessional, and placing their lips
to its c%unningly wrought portals, told
h choicest and most sinful emotions of
their heart into the ears of the father
eonfessor, whom they feared sometimes
more than God. But Luther, in the
face of the fathers, had thrown down his
rosary and refused to acknowledge any
intercessor save Christ. Luther had as
it were nailed his anthema over the ope-
Hings of the confessional. Luther had
laughed to scorn the holy relics, preten-
ded miracles, and saveing power of the
priesthood, and with daring, burning
~eloquence, denounced their ~sensuality
and their idelatry. First the mother
heard, and then the maids-they went
to listen, and remained to pray; aye,
and, to /, ing with throbbing hearts and
teareful eyes, praise God from whom
all blessings flow"
Can you find q tomb in the land where
sealed lips lay that have not sung that
tuner If they were grey old men, they
q ACdIo " SOnS 0OIo IuuuECU. -
IF they were babies, they smiled as their
mother rocked them to sleep; singing
'1Old Hundred" Sinner and saint have
Joined with the endless congregations
where it has, with and without the peal
ing organ, sounded on the sacred air.
The dear little children looking with
wondering eyes on this strange world
have lispedit. The sweet young girl whose
tombstone told of sixteen summers, she
whose pure and innocent face haunted
you with its mild beauty, loved Ole
Hundred and as she sang it, CLOSED
her eyes and seemed eommuning with
the angels who were soon to claim her
He whose manhood was devoted to the
service of God, and he who with falter.
ing feet assembled the pulpit steps with
the white hand placed over his laborins
breast loved, "Old Hundred"
And though sometimes his lips only
move, away down in his heart, so soor
to cease its throbs, the holy melody wa.
sounding. The dear, whiteheaded faith.
er, with his tremulous voice how ht
loved sold Hundred!" Do you see hin
now, sitting in the venerable arm chair
his hands crossed over the top of hi
cane, his shvery locks floating off from
his hollow temples, and a tear stealing
down his furrowed cheeks, that thin
quivering, faltering sound, now burst
ing forth, now listened for almost il
vaiuP If you do not, we do; and from
such lips, hallowed by fourscore year
service in the masters cause, "Old Hun
dred' sounds indeed sacred melody.
You may fill your choirs with Sabbatl
Prima donnas,, whose daring notes EN-
ulate the steeple and cost almost a
much, but give US the spirit stirring tone
Of the Lutheran hymn, sung by old an,
young together. Martyrs have hallow
ed it; it has gone up from the beds c
the saints. The old churches, wher
x. generations has worshipped and wher
81 many scores of the dear dead have bee
carried, and laid before the altar, uher
they gave themselves to God seem t
breathe of "Old Hundred" from vest
bule to tower top-the air is haunte
with its spirit.
Think a monet of the assemble con
pany who have at different times and j
!, different places Joined in the familif
tuneI Throng upon throng-the stroni
the timid, the gentle, the brave, Il
beautiful, their rapt faces all beamir
with the inspiration of the heaven,
sounds. SID
,s sold Hundred" king of the sacrt
band of ancient airsl ; Never shall OF
ears grow weary of hearing, or OF
tongues of singing theel And when '
get to heaven, who knows but what Il
frat triumphant strain that welcomes
may be-
sBs thou, o God, exalted high"