Fanny Crosby (Van Alstyne), the blind poet, five of whose hymns are in our Hymnal, in telling the story of her conversion, says that during a revival in the old Thirtieth Street Church, New York, in 1850, several times she had sought the Saviour at the altar; but not until one evening, November 20, did the light come. "After a prayer was offered they began to sing the grand old consecration hymn, 'Alas! and did my Saviour bleed,' and when they reached the third line of the fourth stanza, 'Here, Lord, I give myself away,' my very soul flooded with celestial light." Again, as in her hymns, the blind singer uses here the figure of light to represent salvation and eternal life. The good ship Rothsay Castle was wrecked between Liverpool and Beaumaris in 1831, and nearly a hundred people were drowned. James Martin, a class leader from Liverpool, was clinging to a plank, from which several had dropped into the sea, when suddenly those near by heard, in his voice: "The God that rules on high, That all the earth surveys, And calms the roaring seas. "This awful God is ours, Our Father and our Love, He will send down his heavenly powers After thus fearlessly facing death, he was rescued with a score of others. Professor Dempster, of the Garrett Biblical Institute, and a company of missionaries on their way to South America were chased for three days by a pirate ship. As the pirates approached, the ship's company went on deck, and all of them sang to the tune of "Old Hundred": "Before Jehovah's awful throne, Ye nations bow with sacred joy; While they were kneeling in prayer the enemy lay by, near the side of their vessel, then turned about, and sailed away. John Wesley, about to preach in the market place at Chesterfield, was haled before a magistrate. But before going he said to his congregation, "Friends, sing a hymn while I am gone; I shall soon be back.” And then he gave out the hymn: Why should the children of a King In a short time, while they were still singing over the hymn, he returned triumphant. A remarkable story is told by Dr. Duffield of the hymn, "All hail the power of Jesus' name." The Rev. E. P. Scott, while a missionary in India, started out, contrary to the pleas of his friends, to visit a distant tribe of murderous mountaineers. Upon first seeing him the natives pointed their spears at his heart. Expecting instant death, he brought forth his violin, and played while he sang with closed eyes, "All hail the power of Jesus' name." When he came to the verse, "Let every kindred, every tribe," he opened his eyes to find their attitude wholly changed. This was the beginning of two years and a half of blessed service in preaching Christ and teaching this tribe to "crown him Lord of all." One of the most dramatic settings for the singing of a hymn was the occasion upon which King George of Tonga formally proclaimed his nation to be henceforth Christian, granting to them a Christian constitution. Five thousand natives on Whitsunday, 1862, assembled about their king, sang the hymn (631): Jesus shall reign where'er the sun His kingdom spread from shore to shore, A curious use of hymns is cited by Fanny Crosby in her autobiography, "Memories of Eighty Years”: "When a member of the Soldiers' Christian Union meets a comrade he says, 'Four hundred and ninetyfour,' which is the number of 'God be with you till we meet again' in 'Sacred Songs and Solos'; the latter replies, 'Six farther on,' that is 500, which is the number of 'Blessed assurance.' The famous temperance advocate, John B. Gough, tells of his sad parting from his mother at home to sail for America. The ship, becalmed off Sandsgate, his home, was visited by many of his friends and relatives, and at last by his mother, who had been away during most of the day. When night shut down upon them and the boats were drawing away in the darkness to the shore, all joined in singing: Blest be the dear, uniting love, The Rev. Dr. Samuel West, an old-time New England pastor, once won over his recalcitrant choir, which had refused to sing in the service, by giving out the hymn, "Come, ye that love the Lord," and asking all to begin with the second verse: Let those refuse to sing, Who never knew our God. The spirit of warfare, so alien to the Christian faith, has been sometimes justified and sanctified when applied to a righteous cause; and with its heroisms are often associated the singing of hymns. "Terrible as is war," said Heine, "it yet displays the spiritual grandeur of man, daring to defy his mightiest and hereditary enemy, Death." While the ungodly man, with a grim outward stoicism, sets his face stolidly toward battle, the true Christian, fighting for some sacred cause in the name of the Prince of Peace, advances enthusiastically with a hymn in his heart and ofttimes upon his lips, and scorns death merely as the "narrow stream" that "divides that happy land from ours." In this spirit many times has a German army charged into battle, singing Luther's "Ein' feste Burg" (written in 1529), the better to "fight the good fight with all their might," the good fight of militant Protestantism. This hymn, styled by Heine "The Marseillaise of the Reformation," is known to have been sung by the army of Gustavus Adolphus before the Battle of Leipzig, in 1631, and also before the Battle of Lützen, in 1632. The Huguenots of France frequently used it during the troublous years, 1560 to 1572; and many instances are recorded of its use by regiments of Germans in the Franco-Prussian war. "Fear not, O little flock, the foe," was composed and used as the battle song of the Swedish king, Gustavus Adolphus, in his campaign against Wallenstein for the preservation of Protestantism in Germany. Of several theories as to its authorship, the most probable one, and that accepted by the editors. of our Hymnal, is that Dr. Jacob Fabricus (or Fabricius), the court chaplain, in these poetical lines paraphrased the thought and sentiment of the king, thus giving to the army a hymn, by which they conquered in the Battle of Lützen, though at the frightful cost of losing their gallant and devout commander. Another German hymn of war times is "Now thank we all our God." Some evidence makes questionable the story that it was written as a national Te Deum after the Thirty Years' War (1618-1648). Even though it may have been written during the war, it was undoubtedly used after the Peace of Westphal as a song of deliverance by the German people, who, like its author, had suffered frightful hardships to win the war. Oliver Cromwell's army was ridiculed as a psalmsinging rabble, though his detractors knew well that the very singing of their hymns helped to make them the one invincible army in all Europe. In a later chapter we mention the tune "Caledonia," which the Scottish warriors frequently sang the |