sufferers. He then relates this pathetic incident: "On Sunday, September twentyseventh, 1896, Mrs. Andrews died after a very brief illness, at Weston, Massachusetts. Her sister Eliza left the house in which she lay, and retired to her cousin's, near by. It was a few hours only before she also suddenly, and without pain, taking leave of those dear to her, rejoined her sister." Among Miss Scudder's "Hymns and Sonnets" are several pieces of exceptional value. They certainly rank with the finest hymns of modern times. One of these is called "The Love of God," and was written in 1852. I am sure that the reader will be deeply impressed with its lovely poetic quality and its rich spiritual tone: Thou Grace Divine, encircling all, A shoreless, boundless sea, When over dizzy heights we go, And though we turn us from Thy face, Thou hold'st us still in kind embrace : The saddened heart, the restless soul, But not alone Thy care we claim, And filled and quickened by Thy breath, Another hymn is entitled "Truth," and begins with the line, "Thou long disowned, reviled, oppressed." In strength it is hardly inferior to "The Love of God." But the hymns which Mr. Scudder says breathe the air of divine content, are " Lines for Music," and "The Vesper Hymn." The tender beauty of the former is shown in the first stanza: As the lost who vainly wander, Till we come to Thee our home. But I am inclined to the opinion that the most exquisite of Miss Scudder's productions is "The Vesper Hymn." Of its class there is nothing finer in our hymnology. It is a masterpiece of lyric poetry. It is the fervid and sincere expression of her deeply spiritual life, and all who read it thoughtfully will surely "refreshment find and rest." The hymn was written in 1874: The day is done; the weary day of thought and toil is past, Soft falls the twilight cool and gray, on the tired earth at last; By wisest teachers wearied, by gentlest friends oppressed, In Thee alone, the soul out-worn refreshment finds and rest. Bend, gracious Spirit from above, like these o'erarching skies, And to Thy firmament of love lift up these long ing eyes, And folded by Thy sheltering hand, in refuge still and deep, Let blessed thoughts from Thee descend, as drop the dews of sleep. And when refreshed, the soul once more puts on new life and power, Oh, let Thine image, Lord, alone gild the first waking hour! Let that dear Presence rise and glow fairer than morn's first ray, And Thy pure radiance overflow the splendor of the day. So in the hastening evening, so in the coming morn, When deeper slumber shall be given, and fresher life be born, Shine out, true Light! to guide my way amid that deepening gloom, And rise, O Morning Star, the first that dayspring to illume. I cannot dread the darkness, where Thou wilt watch o'er me, Nor smile to greet the sunrise, unless Thy smile I see; Creator, Saviour, Comforter, on Thee my soul is cast; At morn, at night, in earth, in heaven, be Thou my First and Last. FRANCES JANE CROSBY HE most prolific writer of gospel THE songs is Mrs. Van Alstyne, better known in the books by the name of Fanny J. Crosby. She has marvellous facility for producing the popular songs so widely and frequently used in Sunday schools, praise services, and revival meetings; and it is perhaps true that the world is singing more of her productions in these departments of Christian endeavor than those of any other sacred-song writer. Mrs. Van Alstyne became totally blind in infancy through maltreatment of an affection of the eyes. She was well educated in the New York Institution for the Blind, became a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and in 1855 was married to Alexander Van Alstyne, a musician, and also blind. At the age of eighty she is living in New York City, and occasionally makes additions to her stock of gospel |