In Tune with the Infinite; or, Fullness of Peace, Power, and PlentyTrine, Ralph Waldo
Religion
In Tune with the Infinite; or, Fullness of Peace, Power, and Plenty
Trine, Ralph Waldo
New Thought
Are you a singer? Then open yourself and let the God within pour forth
in the spirit of song. You will find it a thousand times easier than
all your long and studied practice without this, and other things being
equal, there will come to you a power of song so enchanting and so
enrapturing that its influence upon all who hear will be irresistible.
When my cabin or tent has been pitched during the summer on the edge or
in the midst of a forest, I have sometimes lain awake on my cot in the
early morning, just as the day was beginning to break. Silence at
first. Then an intermittent chirp here and there. And as the
unfolding tints of the dawn became faintly perceptible, these grew more
and more frequent, until by and by the whole forest seemed to burst
forth in one grand chorus of song. Wonderful! wonderful! It seemed as
if the very trees, as if every grass-blade, as if the bushes, the very
sky above, and the earth beneath, had part in this wonderful symphony.
Then, as I have listened as it went on and on, I have thought. What a
study in the matter of song! If we could but learn from the birds. If
we could but open ourselves to the same powers and allow them to pour
forth in us, what singers, what movers of men we might have! Nay, what
singers and what movers of men _we would have_!
Do you know the circumstances under which Mr. Sankey sang for the first
time "The Ninety and Nine?" Says one of our able journals: "At a great
meeting recently in Denver, Mr. Ira W. Sankey, before singing 'The
Ninety and Nine,' which, perhaps, of all his compositions is the one
that has brought him the most fame, gave an account of its birth.
Leaving Glasgow for Edinburg with Mr. Moody, he stopped at a news-stand
and bought a penny religious paper. Glancing over it as they rode on
the cars, his eye fell on a few little verses in the corner of the
page. Turning to Mr. Moody he said, 'I've found my hymn.' But Mr.
Moody was busily engaged and did not hear a word. Mr. Sankey did not
find time to make a tune for the verses, so he pasted them in his music
scrapbook.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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