A sound of thankfulness and praise is heard, to be
followed only too soon by the strain which tells of mourning and
heaviness: one was taken, the other left to toil on alone. But still
there was a purpose in life, a work to be done, something to live for.
And with lamentation is blended hope.
"The years roll on and the spiritual more and more overshadows the
material. The little spark of the Divine life dwelling in the heart has
developed and permeated the whole being. The soul seems chained and
hampered by its surroundings. Like a bird it beats itself against its
prison walls, until at length it wings its way heavenward.
"And then that ancient hymn, which before had wedded itself in my
imagination to the music, pealed forth in all its grandeur, and I seemed
to hear the songs of men united to the purer strains of angelic music:
'Uni trinoque Domino
Sit sempiterna gloria
Qui vitam sine termino
Nobis donet in patria.'
"The music ceased and we awoke as from a dream, and, remembering why we
had come, rushed up to the organ loft, only to find it in perfect
darkness."
IV.
In relating his experience in the cathedral, and in attempting to
describe the music he had heard, Dr. F. grew excited and even dramatic,
and his voice had quite a ring of triumph in it as he recited the "O
Salutaris"--to my mind, the grandest of all the old Latin hymns, lost
for many years to our Church, but at length restored in our native
tongue.
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