Another witness is Dr. Oscar L. Joseph who on every Mother’s Day has his congregation sing “Peace, Perfect Peace” Beyond all other hymns, his mother loved this one written by Bishop Edward H. Bickersteth. She often sang it in the family circle. No burden or distraction could interfere with the “perfect peace” which Christ imparted to her soul. Hence, when she died, it was the message she wished to have set over her resting place. So on her tombstone in Ceylon may be found the three words: “Peace, Perfect Peace.” When the members of the congregation hear this bit of family history from the lips of their pastor, they most feelingly sing at his request: “Peace, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin? The blood of Jesus whispers peace within. Peace, perfect peace, by thronging duties pressed? To do the will of Jesus,—this is rest. . . . . . . . . . Peace, perfect peace, our future all unknown? Jesus, we know, and He is on the throne. . . . . . . . . . It is enough: earth’s struggles soon shall cease, And Jesus call us to heaven’s perfect peace.” The sacrificial loyalty to Christ is seen when A Mother Answered with a Hymn A missionary secretary of one of the Methodist churches in England once went to see a mother whose only remaining son had offered himself for foreign mission service. Two other sons had gone to the same country and there they had laid down their lives in the service of Christ and the natives. The secretary sympathetically referred to this pathetic fact, and wished to ascertain from the mother whether the last of her boys was to go with her full consent. The mother grasped the trend of the visitor’s conversation, and, without waiting for the secretary to put the direct question, she very quietly repeated the lines she so often sang in church, which conveyed her spirit of surrender: “Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all.” There was no need for further questioning. The secretary said in my hearing, “I knelt with that mother and her boy and we had a tearful but beautiful season of prayer.” It is not surprising that in the soldiers’ hours of danger, according to _The War Romance of the Salvation Army_, by Booth and Hill,[10] Mother Held Her Place in Their Hearts The night of the St. Mihiel drive was the blackest night ever seen. It was so dark that one could positively see nothing a foot ahead of him. All that was heard was the sound of thousands of feet tramping, through the mud and slush, as the soldiers went to the front. In groups they were singing softly as they went by. One group was singing “Mother Machree.”