Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1862-07-24
sold HUNDRED"

In rustic church opposite, while we write
a company of worshippers are singing the ole
hymn BE thou, o God, exalted high" Tn,
air is also old, the immortal "Old Hundred"
II it be true that Luther composed that tune
and if the worship of mortals is carried on thu
wings of angels to heaven, how often has HI
heard the declaration, "They are singing Ole
Hundred now"
The solemn strain carries us back to IL,
times OF the retormers-Luther and his devo
ted band. He, doubtless, was the first to s,rik,
the grand old chords in the public sanctuary o
his own Germany.
From his stentorian lungs they rolled, vibra
ting, not through vaulted cathedral roof, bu
along grander arch, the eternal heavens. He
wrought into each note his own sublime faitt
and stamped it with that faiths immortality
Hence it cannot die ! Neither men nor angel.
will let it pass into oblivion.
The bue-eyed girls Of the old "hder land
sang those same strains with all the enthusi
asm of new and holier religion. They had
been bound down to priests, prayer book and
rosary. They had raised adorng ewes to the
spansled image of the Virgin, and bent un.
blushingy before the carved semblance OF
Christ. They had knelt at the dark confession.
al, and placing their lips to its cunningly
wrought portals, told the choicest and most sil
full emotions Of their heart into the ear Of Il G
father contessor, whom they feared sometim, 4
more than God But Lulher in the face of the
fathers, had thrown down his rosary and refus.
ed to acknowledge any intercessor save Christ,
Luther had. as 1t were, nailed his anathema
over the openings of the confessional. Luther
had laughed to scorn the holy relics, pretended
miracles, and saving power of the priesthood
and with daring, burning eloquonce, denounced
lfnlntrV hn mot h,.
then the maids-they went to listen. and re.
manned TO pray aye, and to sing with throb-
bling hearts and fearful eyes, Praise God from
whom all blessings flow"
Can you find a tomb in the land where seal
ed lips lie that have not sung that tune Il
they were grey old men, they had heard OF
sung "Old Hundred" Sinner and saint Joined
with the endless congregations where it has
with and without the pealing organ, SOUNDED
on the sacred air.
The dear little children looking with wonder
ing eyes on this strange world have lsped it
The sweet young girl whose tomb stone told O.
sixteen summers, she whose pure and innocent
face haunted you with its mild beauty, loved
"Old Hundred )" and as she sang it, closed hel
eyes and seemed communing with the angel,
VINO were soon to claim her. He whose man
hood was devoted TO the service of God, and he
who with laltering feet assembled the pulpit
steps with the white hand paced over his labor
ing breast, loved "Old Hundred"
And though sometimes his lips only moved
away down in his heart, SO soon to cease it.
throbs, the holy melody was sounding. The
dear whiteheaded father, with his tremulous
voice. how he loved "Old Hundred I" Do you
see him now, sitting in the venerable arm chair
his hands crossed over the top of his cane, his
slvery locks floating off from his hollow TEN.
pies and a tear stealing down his furrowed
cheeks, that thin, quavering, faltering sound
now bursting forth, now listened for almost in
VAIN II you do not, we do and from such
lips, hallowed by fourscore years service in the
masters cause, "Old Hundred" sounds indeed
a sacred melody
You may fill your choirs with Sabbath prima
donnas, whose daring notes emulate the steeple
ana cost almost as much, but give us the spirit
stirring tones Of the Lutheran HYMN. sung nv
old and young together. Martyrs have halIow
ed 1t; 1t has gone up from the beds of the
saints. The old churches, where generation
after generation has worshipped and where
many scores of the dear dead have been carried
and laid before the altar, where they gave them
selves 10 God, seem to breathe of "Old Humid
red" from vestibule to tower top--the air is
haunted with his spirit.
Think moment of the assembled company
who have at different times and in different
places joined in the familiar tune Throng upon
throng-the strong. the timid, the gentle, the
brave, the beautiful, their rapt faces all beam.