The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1888-03-16
CORONATION"
How It's Singing Saved a Skating
Party From Drowning.

Party From Drowning.
remained in the Office later than
usual one night, staid until that quiet
hour comes-if indeed there Is any
quiet hour in a great busy city like
this-which Is between the time the
laborers are going home from their
toll and the pleasure seekers are has
tening to places of amusement. When
at length did put up the books and
papers for the day l was minded not to
take the broad business street that led
toward home, but Il humber one,
chiefly occupied by little shops and the
cottages of small traders and the bet
ter class of laborers. On this street
there was no jostle of passers on the
sidewalk, no CHATTER of carriages on the
uneven pavement
Most of the persons on the street were
in little groups and were going in the
same direction that l was. I watched
them as they turned and entered an un-
pretending wooden building n few
blocks i'm advance of me. As l neared
il l saw that it was a church, though
much il differed from those imposing
edifices where the rich and fashionable
meet to worship, if indeed they do as
semble for such a purpose. There
were no broad, marble steps, no Orna-
mented columns, no windows of stained
glass, no lofty pointed spire. The old
dIlapidated meeting house on the north
side of Fulton street is very plain. l
approached it and looked in. The in
terror was in keeping with the outside.
There was no frcscoed ceiling, no wav-
ing tapestry, no finely finished pulpit,
no upholstered seats. 1t was Just a
common meeting house. the like of
which can be seen almost any where in
the country.
l stood in the vestibule for n time
with such of the congregation as had
come late. i saw that it was near the
conclusion of the opening prayer, and
that the worshipers were upon their
knees. There was little pause after
this exercise, during which those who
were about me entered and took their
seats. Then the minister rose, and.
without hardly looking at his book,
read, or rather recited, the old familiar
hymn;
IAN hail the power OF Jesus name
Let angels PROSTATE fall
Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crown Him Lord OF all
Grown Him, We martyrs OF our Goa
Who from His affairs call;
Extol the stem OF Jesse's rod,
And crown Him Lord OF all.
aye chosen seed Of Israers race,
We ransomed from the fall,
Hail Him VINO saves you by His grace,
And crown Him Lord of all.
sinners whose love can ne er forget
The NORWOOD and the gall
So, spread your trophies at His feet,
And crown Him Lord OF all
Let every kindred. every tribe
On this terrestrial ball,
T. Him all majesty ascribe,
And crown Him Lord OF all"
The hymn was finished, and the
reader sat down. There was no peal
Of thu organ, no sound of the violin,
but all the congregation sang the
words TO the glorious notes of "Coro-
nation 1 have no appreciation of
music, aud am not affected by it; and
il may be that at this time my feelings
were not moved by the melody of the
singers There seemed to come, min
Cling with theirs, the notes of music
sang long years before by singers
whose voices were then attuned to sing
for "holier ears than ours" They
were not, in truth, the voices of the
young men and women about me that
] seemed to hear, but those Of Deacon
Titus and Elder Prescott snd others,
both men and women, whose songs
and praises / heard so often in the
days of my boyhood. / was not in the
portal of a church in a noisy Western
city. but standing among the worship
ers in an old New England meeting
house.
And so / left the place where ]
seemed to be an intruder, rejoicing in
my heart that though men die, their
songs live on, and the singers them
selves enjoy sort of spiritual exist
ence. But il was not alone the mem
DRY of the dead singers that the hymn
brought back To me, but the recollec-
ton of a scene in which the tune oil
Coronation" played most important
part. 1t was not the at0nement that
thought of. but how the singing of the
hymn had just heard once saved my
life and the lives of others who were
dear to me-
IL was-I do not remember the pre-
else year-but il was when l was about
seventeen years old and was living in
the New England village where I was
born and from which l had hardly evel
been away. 1t was "a pleasant ole
town. built in colonial days, and which
contained few inhabitants who wer,
not descended from the early Puritan
settlers. 1t was situated as most New
England towns are. among the hills
and was on the eastern side of lax
some two miles long and about a mil,
wide. That lake-or pond, as W,
called diminished most of the pleas
ure for the people in the village
There we swan. fished and boated il
the SUMNER and, when the cold o
winter had made solid the surface o