Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1908-09-07

goers. the problem arose how we should
prevent them from going away more
confirmed than ever in the course OF
life and thought which they had
chosen. -.
1--WE must interest them with the
singing said Moody. We must have
a hymn which will appeal to every
heart Of them all. What ! want you
to sing is MY Mothers Prayer"
Il began the song-it is scarcely a
hymn-amid the noise of shutting feet
and whispered comment, but before
one verse of it had been sung a silence
fell over that audience SO perfect that
l could almost hear the beating of my
own heart. Then that feeling came to
me that always comes to singer at
one time or perhaps many times in his
career-the feeling that the people be-
fore me were mine and that the song
was reaching them for good.
"While listen to the music
Stealing on in gentle strain
] am carried back to childhood
am now boy again.
IT'S the hour of my retiring
AT the dusky eventide.
AS of yore. by mothers side.
"There are seven verses Of it. sang
them with an enthusiasm such as
had never before felt. The audience
seemed to rise to me, aud when the
last note had died away Moody imme-
diately followed with one of the most
touching addresses he ever preached
in In fa 10 odd ha nd
like whirlwind, and when he ceased
500 of those rude, irreverent unbe-
levers rose up from their seats beside
their boon companions and their ac-
completes in iniquity and asked for
our prayers and the prayers of all
Gods people.
MANY of them came regularly to
our meetings after that, and many Of
them joined churches. We cannot tell
how many were truly converted"
Mr.. Sankey had keen sense of hui
NOR and was not above telling a story
at his own expense. One day in Gene
va, Switzerland, he entered a music
box shop and asked to see some music
boxes. The salesman graciously show
ed him a number, but none were what
he wanted. Have you none that play
sacred music:" he asked.
why" answered the salesman, I'VE
have some that play kind of halfway
sacred music"
'What?" answered Mr.. Sankey.
"Oh, these Moody and Sankey
hymns. l can't imagine what the peo-
pie see in them. but we sell thousands
of the boxes that play them. Here's
one" @
He pointed to handsomely finished
music box, which. on being wound up.
began to play The Gates Ajar For
Me" and then branched off into other
familiar gospel hymns.
I'VE have enormous orders for these
boxes" continued the salesman, from
every part of Europe" and then added
alphabetically. ITS matter of bust
ness You know, with u.s."
Mr.. Sankey smiled and said nothing,
but a moment later lady came hurry
ing up to him and, holding out her
hand, exclaimed, why, Mr.. Sankey, Is
| this your
1t was Miss Maria Havergal, sis
ter of Frances Il. Havergal, the Eng.
fish hymn writer. The polite Swiss
salesman looked anything but at peace
with himself.
Mr.. Sankey never circled over the
| audience with prctentious sweeps of
his eyes. as many singers do who pose
for effect Usually he singled out
some man in distant part of the
building. often in the extreme gallery,
and sang ut him, for him, knowing
that IL he could reach and touch that
single listener he would reach and
| touch all the others
| Just before he sank into unconscious
ness as he was dying. it is said, he
was heard family singing verse of
his fayorite hymn. not one of his own,
but one composed by Fanny Crosby,
the blind hymn writer of Brooklyn.
| Some day the silver chord will break
| And no more. as now, will sing,
But, oh. the joy when / awake
| Within the palace of the King!
Mr.. Sankey never sang n hymn in
the same way twice nor even the sec
ond verse of tune as he sang the
first. He always accompanied himself
on little organ, which he carried
with him wherever he went.
L s.