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bursting shells. Suddenly the major ""Take care,” he said to us as we stopped to make a more extended scru- put him down on the ground; “look out tiny of the approaches to one of the ex- for yourselves.” ploded tunnels. Then he went over the "We answered I don't know what: para pet. I started to do likewise; but much it mattered about us! At last he he turned and said, “I explicitly forbid was in safety. I hurried back to headyou to follow me!” He ran as far as the quarters, as he had ordered, to fetch the salient formed by the land-slide at the surgeon. other end of the 150 metres of open Meanwhile my comrades who had trench, and there lay flat on the edge, remained with him unclasped his tunic his head just above the crest of the de- and laid bare the little wound in the pression. Evidently he proposed to in- neck, which was bleeding hardly at all,
. spect for himself the construction of the but of which he was to die. He spoke works we had taken. It had all been so from time to time, inquired about the sudden, so splendid, that my comrades progress of the attack, and seemed about me were all a-tremble with ex- again to come to life when they told citement.
him that everything was going well, ‘I was looking in vain in my knap- that the Boches did not counter-attack, sack for my lost field-glasses, in order that they must have retreated a long to get a better view, when the young way to their lines, that there was, all in artilleryman exclaimed,
"“Why, look! I should say that your “The surgeon arrived. There was major is n't moving!”
nothing to be done there; he must be * The idea that anything could have removed as soon as possible from the happened to him seemed to me so ab- trench, about which the marmites were surd that I replied, —
raining down, and taken to the canton““He's just watching; he is n't go- ment. The surgeon poured a little ing to amuse himself by getting shot.” mentholized alcohol on a lump of sugar
““See, now he is moving,” he added. and put it between his teeth; but the He saw plainly what I had difficulty in muscular contraction which followed comprehending. “But he's moving in was so painful to the wounded man a queer way; let's go over there.” that he tried to reject the sugar. Then
"We rushed out to the tunnel. The he said, becoming more conscious of the artilleryman, getting there first, turned suffering which, perhaps, his prostrathe major over on his side.
tion had somewhat deadened, His lips were covered with blood. “I am happy to suffer for France!” He recognized me.
'He bade the surgeon to see to it "“You must notify the general in- that we were rewarded, we who had stantly."
brought him in, - and to give his re“Those were his first words. Then he gards — perhaps his adieux, for I am took some coffee that I offered him and not sure whether he realized that he tried to drink it. An infantryman had was gone
to the officers of his batjoined us, having seen from a distance talion. what had happened. Together we car- 'I had had to go away to carry out his ried him, as best we could, setting him orders. I returned to his side and was down to recover our breath, hampered able to say a few more words to him: by the wire entanglements, being in that I had written to Madame Madelin great haste to get him under shelter, to that he was slightly wounded. He take him down into the trench.
thanked me and entrusted his saddleVOL. 121-N0.1
bag to me, bidding me be careful of it. these accounts are of those which are He thought of everything, of every- not meant for earthly settlement; which body, save himself. During the long can never be settled for a goodly numand difficult journey back to the can- ber of those ardent and devoted young tonment, though he did not speak, hearts. How many things I could tell tears flowed constantly between his you which do not seem incredible to us, closed eyelids. I cannot say why it because we know our leaders and our seemed to me that he was then consum- comrades, but which are, in reality, mating his sacrifice.
incredible, miraculous yet utterly 'Five children and a wife whom he simple.' adored, the prospect of a dazzling future, all the charms of intellect, all the Could anything be nobler and more joys —
vigorous than this outpouring of a sol'He died as we reached the poste de dier- of a battalion, rather — to the secours. We buried him in one of the glory of its commander! In these adcemeteries where they make breaches mirable pages we perceive that it is in the wall to extend them into the ad- from the leader that the whole corps joining fields.
derives its powers, in the strenuous and ‘Speak of him, my dear master. He painful hours, and that it retains a senis of those who are most worthy to be timent of infinite gratitude to him who praised by your voice, which will carry sustains and leads it. When he wrote so far into the future, and which will to me this narrative, which shall not consecrate the memory of those unspot- die, Paul Drouot knew not that I should ted names which we wish coming gen- read it at his grave, and that he himerations to love as we love them self, loyal soldier that he was, would go forever and passionately.
to his rest in the winding-sheet which 'I am writing incoherently; I know he had prepared for his commander. it better than any one; but that must be However great his talent, the poet borne in addition to all the rest. could never have invented, never have
'I have talked about the major and conceived a situation so exalted and so not enough about the battalion. How moving as that in which he was an acprovoked he would have been with me tor during those hours of enthusiasm, for that! Ah! if you knew what an ad- of valor, of friendship, and of sacrifice! mirable battalion it was, what officers Ah! how holy is the door through which - and all that we owe them! But our young friends are escaping!
conspiring, into song. And the songs I
we hear each other humming in sepaI HAVE a friend who always calls rate recesses of the house are ‘Gospel - when he remembers to, for alas! Hymns.' Humming, we converge up
! he sometimes forgets - the Methodist on the drawing-room from our difChurch building in our village, a 'con- ferent retreats; and sometimes we look venticle.' I wish he did not sometimes each other in the eye and say hardily, forget, for nothing makes me so at 'Let's.' Then we sit down and incite peace with my hereditary nonconform- each other to a desperate vocalism. We ity as to hear an Anglican imply, by see how many we can remember, out such verbal affectations, what he thinks of our evangelistic youth, and we sing of the dissidence of dissent. Method- them all. ism is as foreign to me as Anglicanism; We remember a good many, if truth yet, I doubt not, the Epworth League be told; and once I found a rapt huddle sings, in its handsome 'conventicle,' of colored servants on the stair-landjust the hymns that of old were sung ing getting a free 'revival.' Neither of by the Y.P.S.C.E. It is many a year
us has a voice worth mentioning, so I since I attended a Y.P.S.C.E. meeting; think that we must, without realizing and I have an idea -- it is almost a fear it, have reproduced the fervor along - that Gospel Hymns, No. 5 is by this with the words. time Gospel Hymns, No. 10, and that They were cannily arranged, those some of the most haunting melodies Moody and Sankey hymns: if you sing are gone therefrom. Perhaps the 'En- them at all, you cannot help pounding deavorers' are now chanting ‘Hymns down on the essential words. They Ancient and Modern.' But I hope not. wallow in beat and accent. 'A Shelter Oh, I cannot think it!
in the Time of Storm.' We usually begin When life grows very dreary; when with that. It is ineluctable. But oh, the Hindenburg line seems to turn from how I wish that either of us could reshadow to substance; when the Coun- member more than one 'verse' of cil of Workmen's and Soldiers' Depu- Well, wife, I've found the model church, ties has indulged in a new 'democratic' And worshipped there to-day; vagary; when flour has gone up two It made me think of good old times dollars more a barrel and the priceless
Before my hair was gray. potato is but a soggy pearl, deserving I have never heard it sung,
I never to be cast before swine; when another belonged to the Y.P.S.C.E., - but my
' member of the family has broken a leg husband says that he has. My husor had appendicitis — then my hus- band also says that he has heard 'the band (he, too, of yore an‘Endeavorer') trundle-bed one.' I do not believe it, and I are wont to burst, simultaneous- though he is a truthful man. I cannot ly, mechanically, unthinking and un- believe it; the less, that he remembers
none of the words, and that it is only The church of my choosing, if not of I who recall, visually, in the lower cor- my profession, is the same as that of ner of a page,
my friend who talks of 'conventicles.' Poking (perhaps it was another verb) ’mid the
There I sing ‘Hymns Ancient and dust and rafters
Modern' (or that American corruption There I found my trundle-bed.
thereof, the Hymnal) with the most A slight altercation always develops conforming. And certainly, except for here. Why should he be more royalist
a few time-honored chants which they
share with all Dissenters, their hymns than the king? It is not conceivable that it was ever sung; and even he can
are to me ‘ditties of no tone.' My husnot remember the tune; so we join band disagrees with me; but he is not,
; forces in ‘To the Work, to the Work, equally with me, the predestined prey
, ' or 'There Shall Be Showers of Blessing.'
of the brass band. He is better educat
ed than I; has listened oftener at twi(Mercy-drops round us are fall-ing, light to the enchanted choirs of New But for the showers we plead.)
College and Magdalen. He likes the He has an uncanny and inexplicable non-committal melodies of the Hymnal prejudice against 'God Be with You far, far better than the sentimental Till We Meet Again' - perhaps be- parti pris of Gospel Hymns. cause they always sang it for the last I know as well as he does that the sen
But I can usually get him to timental quality is of a sort that ought ' oblige' with a solo - Throw Out the
not to be there at all. I know that the Life-Line'. which I am sure was not music of 'Throw Out the Life-Line' bein No. 5, because we never, never sang longs morally with the music of 'Old it; though I do remember hearing a re- Black Joe,' and 'Oh, Promise Me,' turning delegate to a Y.P.S.C.E. con- and "There'll Be a Hot Time in the vention say that it was the one 'the Old Town To-night.' I know that the people of Montreal seemed to like best." appeal of that tune is sensuous and Somewhere in the nineties, Endeavor- emotional and personal, and, for a ers in thousands sang it all up and down hymn, all, all wrong. I realize that, for Sherbrooke Street, apparently. Well:I church, Gregorian is the only wear; and am like the people of Montreal. It al- that the less you diverge therefrom, ways gets' me, in the dissenting mar- the more decent you are. I, too, prefer row of my dissenting soul; and when Bach and Palestrina, and, for congremy husband has 'obliged' me with it, I gational singing, the oldest Latin hymns am ready to forget the Council of Work- you can get. I can even see that the men's and Soldiers' Deputies. What aridity and sameness of the Anglican can the devil do in the face of “Throw 'hymn-tunes' are more dignified, and
, Out the Life-Line,' and its linked more to the purpose, than the plansweetness long drawn out'?
gent and catchy refrains by which SanBy all of which it is made evident key lured 'wandering boys' back to that, in the matter of hymns, mine is be safe-folded with the ninety and the 'sensual ear. (Not so my hus- nine. And yet, when my husband (by band's: he sings them in the critical request) croons ‘Throw Out the Lifespirit, as he might illustrate a violation Line,'I cannot resist. I am evangelized. of rhetoric. He loathes 'Throw Out the True, I perceived this perniciousness Life-Line,'even while the chorus makes early. Perhaps the white light dawned his voice appeal and yearn in spite of on me when, in Y.P.S.C.E. days, an oldhim. As I said, he does it only to oblige.) er friend (who was in love) confided
to me that the words of a certain Gos- ing them. So it is not all a question of pel Hymn seemed to her not altogether association and the power of youthreverent: they could so easily be ap- ful memories. It is the very quality of plied to a human love-affair. She was the music -- the words were negligquite right, I think. Some of us have ible, when they were not atrocious felt the same about Crashaw and Giles that touched in me, and can still touch, Fletcher. But though the words were, something popular, emotional, vulgar; in all conscience, carnal enough, I be something very low-brow and demolieve it was the tune that did the trick cratic, not to say mobbish. “The senand set her dreaming of her young hero. sual ear.'
Even in youth, I had the sense to For I am his, and he is mine,
differentiate. "Jerusalem the Golden,' Forever and forever.
discovered in another hymn-book than Oh, the yearning of that refrain: our own, was for many years my favoslow and honeyed and melancholy as rite hymn - even during those years ‘My Old Kentucky Home' or 'Way when I was singing 'Beulah Land' and Down Upon the Suwanee River'! Mu- Wonderful Words of Life.' I knew it sically, doubtless, not so good; but was better; I knew I liked it better; I musically of the same school, and sug- knew that it had more to do with religgestive - it, too — of plantations and ion than all the ‘Beulah Lands' ever moonlight and banjos and rich, heart- written. True, the words helped; and rending negro voices. My friend was the words of the Gospel Hymns were right: they are not in the best tradition a hindrance, even then. But my soul of reverence, those Moody and Sankey recognized the validity, the reality of
, hymns. And yet, — here's the rub, the music. “Jerusalem the Golden' rewhy do we remember them, when all mained my favorite until 'The Son of but the most universal of the hymns we God Goes Forth to War' succeeded it in sang in church and sang much oftener my affections; always to be, until I die, than these, have gone beyond recap- my very favorite. And even while we turing? My husband resents remem- sang bering them; he would far rather re
And view the shining glory shore, member more worthy things. But I do
My heaven, my home, for evermore. not: I would not, for anything, lose them out of the rag-bag which is my I had memories of something still betmind. I am not sure I would not rather ter than ‘Jerusalem the Golden': memlose certain stanzas from the Greek ories of an interval in a French convent Anthology, which come to my lips in where we chanted the Magnificat to its much the same unvolitional fashion. proper plain-song. Though, even there From those refrains I reconstruct a — but I shall come to that later. whole moral and social world, even as Cuvier reconstructed his mastodon.
II You remember what the 'Evening Hymn' did for Mottram and Lowndes Not long ago, we had a friend stayin ‘The End of the Passage'? Just that ing with us who was bred a Romanist. "I Know that My Redeemer Lives' does How Moody and Sankey got mentionfor me. And — this is the point — ed, I do not know - but they did; and 'Rock of Ages' and 'Holy, Holy, Holy' our friend insisted that Moody and do not do it; though I knew these even Sankey could not conceivably be so bad earlier, and am still, on occasion, sing- as the modern Catholic hymns. We