The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1893-06-26

aualtorluus were pa rapiurts. lncft
have been s0l0isis and hassos and bari
tones and sopranos whose brilhancy in
concert halls has not been more famous
than their debauchcrics But there is
kind of song. which. like the song of
birds, is divinclv fashioned. Songs Of
pardon. Songs of divine comfort Songs
OF worship. Songs iu the night like
those which David and Job mentioned.
Songs full of faith and tenderness and
prayer like those which the Christian
mother sings over the sick cradle Songs
of a broken heart being healed. Songs
OF the dying flashed upon by opening
portals of amethyst Songs like that
which Paul commended TO the COiOsians,
when he said. "AdmOnlsh one another IN
psalms and hymns and spiritual songs,
singing with grace in your hearts, to the
Lord " Songs like Moses sang after the
tragedy Of the Red Sea. Songs like Deb
orah and Barak sang at the overthrow OF
Sisera. Songs like Isaiah heard the re-
deemed sing as they came to Zion. Oh,
God teach us that kind of song which
thou only can st teach, and help us to
sing it on earth and sing it in heaven. 1t
was the highest result of sweet
sound when, under the playing of Paga-
mini one auditor exclaimed reverently,
"Oh, God!n and another sobbed out, "Oh,
Christi
{ Further, l remark in regard to the song
of birds, that it is trustful, and without
any fear of what yot may come viii you
tell me how ii is possible for that wren,
that sparrow, that chickadee TO sing so
sweetly when they may any time be
ponced on by hawk and torn wing
from wing2 There are cruel beaks in
thicket and in sky ready to Stay the song
birds. HerOds on the wing. ModOcs of
the sky. Assassins armed with iron claw
Murderers of song floating up and down
the heavens. How can the birds sing
amid such perilsl Besides that, how is
the bird sure to get its food2 Millions of
birds have been starved. Yet it
sings in the dawn without any certainty
of breakfast or dinner or supper. Would
IL not be better to gather its food 70 the
day before vocalizingl Besides that, the
hunters are abroad. Bang goes 0 gun
in one direction. Bang goes gun in an
other direction. The song will attract
the shot and add to the peril. Besides
That, yOnder is a thunder-clOud and there
may be hurricane and hail to be let loose,
and what then will become of you, the
poor warbler2 Besides that, winter will
come, and it may be smitten down before
1t gets to the tropics. Have you never
seen the snow strewn with the birds be-
lated in their migratiOn2 The titmouse
mingles its voice with the snow storms as
Emerson describes the little thing he
found IN tempestuous January
Here was this atom In full breath
Hurting defiance at vast death;
This scrap Of Yalor Just for play
Fronts the north wind in waiscOt gray.
For every bird, a thousand perils and
disasters lowering and sweepiag round
and round. Yet, there it sings, and it is
a trustful song. The bird that has it the
hardest, sings the sweetest The lark
from the shape of her claws may not
perch on tree. In the grass her nest is
exposed to every hoof that passes. One
f,f bay hall 81 al b,
the lark's nest. If she sing at all, you
will expect her to render the saddest of
threnOdieS. No, no She sings eXulting-
ly an hour without pause and mount
ing three thousand feet without losing a
note. Would God we all might
learn the lesson Whatever perils,
whatever bereavements, whatever tri-
ais are yet to come, sing, sing
with all your heart and sing with
all your lungs. If you wait until all
the hawks of trouble have folded their
wings and all the hunters of hate have
unlOaded their guns and all thehurricanes
of disaster have spent their fury, YOU
will never sing at all. David the pursued
of Absalom, and the betrayed of Ahitho-
phel, and the depleted of sores that ran
in the night" presents us the best songs
of the Bible. John Milton, not able to see !
his hand before his face, sings for US the
most famous poem of all literature and |
]
ever met have been Christian people I'M |
der physical, or domestic, or public tor
ment. The songs of Charles Wesley |
which we now calmly sing in church. !
were composed by him between mobs
Further, in the sky galleries, there are |
songs adapted to all moods. Themeadow |
lark is mournful and the gOldfinch low |
Gus, and the grosbea1 prolonged of note |
But the iibrettO of nature is voluminous |
Are you sad; you can hear from the |
bowers the echo of your grief Are YOU |
glad yau can hear an echo of your happi- |
ness. Are you thoughtful you can hear
that which will plunge you into deeper !
profound. Are 70 weary you may catch |
resttul air So the songs of birds are
administrative in all circumstances. And |
we would do well to have a hymnology
for all changes of condition. You may
sing your woes into peace and rouse your
Joys into greater attitudes. Upon every
condition of body and soul, let us try the
power of song. The multudinous utter
ances of grove and orchard and garden
and forest suggest most delightful posi-
bilities.
Further, 1 notice that the song of birds
is family song. Even those of the
feathered throngs which have no song at
all, make what utterances they do in
sounds of their own family of birds The
boot of the owl, the chatter of the mag
II,
ming of the grouse, the laugh of the loon
in the Adirondacks, the cackle of the hen,
the scream of the eagle, the croak of the
raven, are sounds belonging to each par
tlcular family; but when you come to those
which have real songs, how suggestive
that it is always a family song. All the
skylarks, all the nightingales, all the gold
tinches, all the blackbird all the cuckoos, s
prefer the song of their own family and
never sing anything else. So the most
deeply IMPRESSIVE songs we ever sing are
family songs. They have come down
from generation to generation. Youwere
sung to sleep in your infancy and child
hood by songs that will sing in your soul
forever. Where was it, my brother or
sister, that you heard the family song
on the banks of the Ohio, or the Alaba-
ma, or the AndrOscOggin, or the Connec-
ticut, or the Tweed, or the Thames. or
the Raritanl That song at eventide,
when you were tired Out-indeed too tir-
ed to sleep, and you cried with leg ache,
and you were rocked and sung to sleep,
you hear it now, the soft voice from
sweet lips, she as tired, perhaps more
tired than you, but she rocked and YOU
slumbered. Oh, those family songsl The
songs that father sang, that mother
sang, that sisters and brothers sang
They roll on rs to-day with reminis-