Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1888-03-14

IL not nave been pleasanter II you coui
have heard from those lips the praises
Christ? never read anything more beau
tiful than this about child's departure.
The account said, ''She folded her hands
kissed her mother good bye, sang herhymr
turned her face to the wall, said her littl
prayer, and then died."
Oh, if could gather up in one paragraph
the last words of the little ones who hav
gone out from all these Christian circles
and could picture the calm looks. and th
folded hands, and sweet departure, methink
it would be as grand and beautiful as one o
heavens great doxologiesl next speak
Christ as the old mans song. Quick mus
loses its charm for the aged ear. Th
schoolgirl asks for a schottisch or a glee
but her grandmother asks for "Balerma'
or the Portuguese Hymn" Fifty years o
trouble have tanned the spirit, and the keys O
the music board must have a solemn tread
Though the voice may be tremulous, 81
that grandfather will not trust it in church
still he has the psalm-book open before
him, and he sings with his soul. He hum
his grandchild asleep with the same tune
he sang forty years ago in the old country
meeting house. Some day the choir singl
tune so old that the young people do mo-
know it; but it starts the tears down tht
cheek of the aged man, for it reminds hin
of the revival scene in which he participat
ed, and of the radiant faces that loug since
went to dust, and of the gray-haired min
lister leaning over the pulpit and sounding
the good tidings of great joy.
1t was one Thanksgiving Day in my pull
pit in Syracuse, N. Y, and Rev. DAME
Waldo, at ninety eight years of age, stood
beside me. The choir sang tune. said
81 am sorry they sang that new tune; no
body seems to know it." "Bless you, my
son." said the old man, 81 heard that sew
enty years agoP
There was song to-day that touched the
life of the aged with holy fire, end kindled
glory on their vision that olr younger
eyesight cannot see. 1t was the song oi
salvation-Jesus, who fed them all theil
lives long; Jesus, who wiped away theil
tears; Jesus, who stood by them when ali
else tailed; Jesus, in whose name theil
marriage was sconsecrated, and whose resur.
rection has poured light upon the graves o
their departed. Blessed the Bible in which
spectacled old age reads the promise, 81
will pever leave you, never forsake youp
Blessed the staff on which the worn-out
pilgrim totters on toward the welcome o.
his Redeemer! Blessed the hymn book ir
which the faltering tongue and the failing
eyes find Jesus, the old mans song.
l speak to you again of Jesus as the
night-song. Job speeks of him who givett
songs in the night. John Welch, the ole
Scotch minister, used to put plaid across
his bed on cold nights, and some one asked
him why he put that there. He said, ooh
sometimes in the night want to sing the
praise of Jesus, and get down and pray
then just take that plaid and wrap it
around me, to keep myself from the cold. ,
Songs in the night! Night of trouble has
come down upon many of you. CONNER
clal losses put out one star, sfanderou
abuse put out another star, domestic be
reavement has put.ou thousand lights
and gloom has been added to gloom, ant
chill to chill, and sting to sting, and on,
midnight has seemed to borrow the folc
from another midnight to wrap itself il
more unbearable darkness; but Christ ha
spoken peace to your heart and you cal
sing,
"Jesus, lover of my SOUL
Let me 10 thy bosom fly,
While the pillows near me roll,
While the tenn pest still is high
Hide me, oh, my Saviour! hide.
Till the storm of Lire is past,
Safe into the haven guide;
Oh, receive my soul at last.'
Songs in the night! Songs in the nigh,
For the sick, who have no one to turn th
hot pillow, no one to put the taper on th
stand, no one to put ice on the temple, 9
pour out the soothing anodyne, or utter on
cheerful word-yet songs in the night! Fo
the poor, who freeze in the winters colo
and sweter in the summers heat, an
MUNICH the hard crusts that bleed the sor
gums, and shiver under blankets that car
not any longer be patched, and tremble be
cause rent-day is come and they may be Sc
out on the sidewalk, and looking into th
starved face of the child and seeing famin
there and death there, coming home fron
the bakery, and saying, in the presence {
the little famished ones, "Oh, my God. f1ou
has gone up!" Yet songs in the NIGH
songs in the night! For the widow VIII
goes to get the back pay of her husband
slain by the ''sharp- shooter" and knows
is the last help she will have, moving out {
| a comfortable home in desolation, deaf
turning back from the exhausting cough
and the pale cheek, and the lustreless eye
aud refusing all relief. Ye songs in th
night Songs in the night! For the soldie
| in the field hospital, no surgeon to bind u
the gun-shot fracture, no water for the ho
lips, no kind hand to brush away the file
from the fresh wound, no one to take th
loving farewell, the groaning of other
poured into his own grOan, the blasphem
of others ploughing up his own spirit, th
condensed bitterness of dying away fror
home among strangers. Yet songs in th
night! Songs in the night! "Ahr' said on
dying soldier, "tell my mother that las
night there was not one cloud between m
soul and Jesus" Songs in the night! Song
in the night!
| The Sabbath day has come. From th
affairs of ten thousand churches has smoke
up the SAVIOR of sacrifice. Ministers of th
Gospel are now preaching in plain English
in broad Scotch. in flowing Italian, in hars
Choctaw. Gods people have assembled
Hiudoo temple, and Moravian church, an
Quaker meeting house, aud sailors bethel
and kings chapel, and hightowered catht
dral. They sang, and the Song floated O
amidst the spice groves, or struck the ics
bergs, or floated off into the western pinei
or was drowned in the clamor of the grea
cities. Lumbermen sang it, and the factor
girls, and the children in the Sabbath class
and the trained choirs in great assem- blagel
Trappers, with the same voice with whic
they shouted yesterday in the stag hunt
and mariners with throats that only a fey
days ago sounded in the hoarse blast of th
sea hurricane, they sang it. One them
for the sermons; one burden for the song
Jesus for the invocation. Jesus for th
Scripture lesson. Jesus for the baptisma
font. Jesus for the sacramental cup. Jesu
for the benediction. But the day will g
by. 1t will roll away on swift wheels O
light and love. Again, the churches wi
be lighted. Tides of people again settin
down the streets. Whole families comm
up the church aisle. We must have on
more sermon, two prayers, three songs an
one benedictiou. What shall we preach t6
night? What shall we read? What shall
be, children? Aged men and women, wha
shall it be? Young men and maidens
what shall it be? If you dared to break tn
silence of this auditory, there would com
up thousands of quick and jubilant voices
crying out, ''Let it be Jesus! Jesus!' W
sing his birth-the barn that sheltered hin
the mother that nursed him, the cattle tbs
fed beside him. the angels that woke up th
shepherds, shaking light over the midnigh
hills. We sing his ministry-the tears b
wiped away from the eyes of the orphans
the lame men that forget their crutches;th
damsel who from the bier bounded out int
the sunlight, her locks shaking down owe
the flushed cheek; the hungry thousan
who broke the bread as it blossomed int
lornar 1oaves-that miracle nv which ho