Mountain Democrat. [volume] (Placerville, El Dorado Co., Cal.) 1854-1860, 1858-03-27


shippers were singing the old, old hymn "Be
thou, o, God, exhalted high" The air is old
also-the immortal "Old Hundred"
lift be true that Luther composed that tune,
and if the worship Of mortals is carried on the
wings OF angels to Heaven, how often has he
heard the declaration They are singing
old Hundred now"
The solemn stain carries us back to the
times Of the rcformers-Luther and his de-
voted band lie doubtless, was the first to
strike the grand old chords in the public
sanctuary OF his own Germany.
From his stentorian lungs they rolled. vi
brating not through vaultrd roof, but along
grander arch - the eternal heavens. lie
wrought into each note his own sublime faith,
and stamped it with that faith'S immortality.
Hence it cannot die. Neither men nor angels
will let it pass into oblivion.
The bluc-cyed girls of old 4ader land sang
those same strains with all the enthusiasm Of
a new and hoicr religion. They had been
bound down to priests, prayer-boOk and rosa
ry; they had raised adoring eyes to the span
gled image Of the Virgin, and bent unblush-
ingly before the carved scmblance of the Saw
Jour of sinners; they had knclt at the dark
confessional, and placing their lips to its cum
ningly- wrought portals told the choicest and
J
ears Of the father confcssor, who sometimes
they feared more than God. But Luther, in
the face Of the fathers, had thrown down his
rosary, and refused to acknowledge any inter
ceSSor save Christ. Luther had, as it were,
nailed his anatEcma over the openings Of the
confessional Luther had laughed to ScOrn
the holy relics, pretended miracles, and saving
powers of the priesthood and with daring
burning coquence denounced their sensual
IT, and idolatry. First the mother heard, and
then maids. They went to listen, and re-
maincd to pray-aye, and to sing with throb-
bling hearts and fearful eyes praise God,
from whom all blessings flow"
Can YOU find tomb in the land, where
sealed lips lay that have not sung that tune !
If they were gray old men, they had heard or
sung "Old Hundred" If they were babes,
they smiled us their mothers rocked them to
sleep, singing odd Hundred" Sinners and
saints have joined with the endless congrcga
tons where it has, with aad without the peal
ing organ, sounded on sacred air. The dear
little children, looking with wondering eyes
OIL this strange MOrld, have lisped- it. The
sweet young girl, whose tombstone told Of
sixteen summers-she whose pure and inno-
cent face haunted you with its mid beauty
loved "Old Hundred" and as she sang it,
closed her eyes and seemed communing with
the angels who were so soon to claim her,
lie whose manhood was devoted to the SER
vice of his God, and who with faltcring steps
assembled the pulpit stairs with white hand
placed over his laboring breast, loved "Old
Hundred, and though sometimes his lips on
w moved. away down in his heart, so soon Ia
cease its throbs, the holy melody was sound
ing. The dear white haired father, with his
tremulous voicc--hOw he loved "Old Hun
dred" DO you src him now, sitting in the
venerable arm chair, his hands crossed oycr
the top of his cane. his silvery locks floating
off from his hollow temples, and tear per
chance stealing down his iurrowcd checks, as
the noble strains ring out. DO you hear that
thin, quivering, latcring sound, now bursting
FORTH now listened for almost in vain! II
YOU do not, we do; and from such lips; hal
, lowed by four score years service III the Mas.
tcr's co,iSe, "Old Hundred sounds indeed q
sacred melody.
il, You may fill your church choirs with Sab
bath prima donnaS, whose daring notes emu
late the stecpc and cost almost as much, but
give us the Spirt-stirring tones of the Luthe
ran hymn, sung by young and old together
Martyrs have halOwed 1t; and it has gone W
from the dying beds Of the saints. The OLD
churches, where generation alter generation
has worshipped, and where many scores o
= the dear dead have been carried, and lait
before the altar where they gave themselves
to God, seem to breathe of odd Hundred
> from vcstibulc to tower-top-thc very air is
haunted with its spirit.
Think, for moment, Of the assembled
company who have, at different times and a
: different places, joined in the familiar tune
throng upon throng--the stern, the timid
| the gentle, the brave, the -beautitu!-theil
rapt faces all bcaming with the inspiration o
the Heavenly sounds!
0 cold Hundred" king Of the sacred bant
u of ancient airs never shall cars grow weary
> Of hearing, Or our tongues of singing thee =
And when we get to Heaven, who knows bu
i what the first triumphai strains that will wei
come us may be
'Be thou, o God, exalted high"