MARY STANLEY BUNCE SHINDLER

A

S tunable a hymn as can be found in

our church collections is "Prince of Peace, Control my Will," the author of which was Mrs. Shindler, and not Mrs. Barber, as a few books have it. Mrs. Shindler was the daughter of the Rev. Benjamin M. Palmer, at the time of her birth (in 1810), pastor of the Congregational Church at Beaufort, South Carolina. In 1814 Dr. Palmer became pastor of the Circular Church at Charleston, and in the schools of that city Mary was educated. She was married to Charles E. Dana of New York City in 1835, who died at Muscatine, Iowa, four years later. Mrs. Dana returned to Charleston, where she established her reputation as a poet. Her productions include "The Southern Harp," "The Northern Harp," "The Parted Family and Other Poems," beside many successful contributions to leading periodicals.

Mrs. Dana was united in marriage to the Rev. Robert D. Shindler in 1848, at that time professor in Shelby College, Kentucky. In 1869 he began his rectorship at Nacogdoches, Texas, where Mrs. Shindler died in 1883.

Mrs. Shindler's chief hymn is the one already named:

Prince of Peace, control my will;
Bid this struggling heart be still;
Bid my fears and doubtings cease,
Hush my spirit into peace.

Thou hast bought me with Thy blood,
Opened wide the gate to God:

Peace I ask but peace must be,

Lord, in being one with Thee.

May Thy will, not mine, be done;
May Thy will and mine be one:
Chase these doubtings from my heart;
Now Thy perfect peace impart.

Saviour, at Thy feet I fall;

Thou my Life, my God, my All!

Let Thy happy servant be

One for evermore with Thee !

Her life was not without bitter disappointments and sorrows, and her feelings were expressed in the pathetic poem, "Pass Under the Rod," which has been set to music by Mrs. Sue Ingersoll Scott. Mrs. Shindler's "Sabbath Hymn" reveals the pathos of her life:

Blessed Sabbath! how I love thee,
Sacred pledge of coming rest!
Sweetest solace, may I prove thee,
For a heart with woes oppressed!
Surging billows, rolling o'er me,
Seek to whelm my trembling soul;
But thy tokens pass before me,
And the waters backward roll.
Pealing anthems, loud resounding,
Seem like blissful songs above;
In thy temple, joys abounding
Bathe my soul in seas of love :
Prayerful odors, upward stealing
From the altars of the heart,
Heavenly glories there revealing,
Call my spirit to depart.

Faith's bright visions thus unfolding,
Here would I my sorrows bring,

Till my raptured soul, beholding,
Soars aloft on steady wing:

Then, forgetting all my sadness,
Gloom and doubt will pass away;
Drooping sorrow change to gladness,
Cheerless night to glorious day.

In giving voice to poetic inspiration Mrs. Shindler was eminently successful; and frequently she selected some of the most delicious airs and wedded to them the flowing words of her own saint-like and sorrowing muse.

I

JANE EUPHEMIA SAXBY

BELIEVE that I do not permit my enthusiasm to get the better of my judgment in saying that one of the most exquisite hymns on Guidance to be found in English hymnology, is that written by Mrs. Saxby, daughter of William Browne of Tallantire Hall, Cumberland, England. Her first volume of poems, "The Dove on the Cross," was published in 1849, and in this appeared the loveliest of all her hymns, for the text of which I am indebted to Dr. Horder's" Congregational Hymns":

Show me the way, O Lord,

And make it plain;
I would obey Thy Word,
Speak yet again;

I will not take one step until I know

Which

way

it is that Thou wouldst have me go.

O Lord, I cannot see;

Vouchsafe me light:

The mist bewilders me,

Impedes my sight: